If I had a nickel for every time someone chalked up a series of bad decisions to “daddy issues” I’d probably be rich. A whole Diet Coke rich. That’s a lot considering every striptease is met with a series of *tsk tsk tsks* and a general inquiry as to where that woman’s father was. I’m not going to get into a discussion about the parental effects on a child’s decision to disrobe for a living–which I, for the record, believe is a perfectly valid and intelligent way of putting oneself
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