Have you ever had a really good friend, maybe a few years older, with whom you did everything together? You did each other’s hair. Did each other’s nails. Fought fascist militaristic governments together. Negotiated free trade deals with each other. And then, something happens. Your bestie develops a new set of priorities, and you aren’t one of them. And they become quite bizarrely bitchy about it. For reasons unknown, they take their soft wood lumber and go home in a huff.
Only at the Star.
