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She Told Me to Move Out at Christmas Dinner—Forgetting I Paid Every Bill in That House

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and mean.

The visionary entrepreneur was just a balding, middle-aged con man in a rental tuxedo, getting hauled out in handcuffs while his hairpiece lay on the floor.

I stepped forward and looked down at him.

“Nice look, Brad,” I said into the microphone. “Just as fake as everything else in your life.”

Miller hauled him through a gauntlet of furious donors continue reading …

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