Must have just realize whatever went on at those slumber parties at the never-land ranch was not brotherly bonding.
He’s got the haunted look of a man who knows exactly what “Michael Jacksons’s One” means.
Take 1 part Danny Bonaduce, and mix in 1 part Willie Aames. Let sit for…oh, 50 years?
It’s never lupus.
Just before you go to sleep tonight, picture this standing right beside your bed.
Those ladies at the Chippendales take what they want when they want it.
If that fivehead follows its natural progression and becomes a sixhead, he’ll have producers knocking down his door offering Frankenstein roles.
What the hell? Wasn’t he all buff a minute ago?
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