The Fugdon Sisters

Maybe it's the gin talking, but I think I'm falling in love with the Peldon sisters:

Look at them! Brown Peldon is wearing a jaunty James Spader in Pretty In Pink If He Were A Girl Whose Grasp of Current Trends Is About Six Months Behind The Rest of Us-type fedora and clutching her bedazzled-Coke bottle handbag, and Blonde Peldon is...being supportive in a midriff-baring satin top? I don't know.

They just seem so happy together. Can't you imagine their lives? They've got money from...something...and so, instead of working, they spend most of the day trying on a series of increasingly shiny outfits, jumping on their respective beds, and brushing each other's hair. Later, there's probably some crying about, you know, their empty, empty souls or something, but then there's probably also some sunbathing and a pedicure so it all evens out.

I smell a Peldon sisters reality show, people. And it smells like a potent cocktail of peroxide, Nads and sweet sweet desperation.

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