It’s tale as old as Biden’s left hip.When young, beautiful starlets marry handsome boy-band hunks, we yearn for every detail of their fanciful fairytale, sipping the sweet Champagne of their effortlessly sexy story.When they inevitably divorce, we gorge on their misery, ravenous for tawdry titbits and dirty laundry, desperate to apportion blame, to say we saw it coming from the start, to appoint a victor and villain in the sordid split saga.
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