Frank here. While living abroad and around the country, whenever I received a link
about something that had happened in Tennessee, I knew it couldn't be
good.
Brace yourselves for this one, the story of the Bud-Light-drinking, Christmas-present-stealing, cross-dressing 4-year-old who just wanted to visit his daddy in prison.
How do so many stories that originate in Tennessee consistently find that sweet spot between the sad, hilarious and bizarre?
Brace yourselves for this one, the story of the Bud-Light-drinking, Christmas-present-stealing, cross-dressing 4-year-old who just wanted to visit his daddy in prison.
How do so many stories that originate in Tennessee consistently find that sweet spot between the sad, hilarious and bizarre?
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