Welcome to the Melf File
Drew Brees was in the middle of a recent photo shoot, having fun and joking around in between poses that shifted, deftly, from regal to steely, when, without warning, a fuse blew and the smallish room he was in went dark. Like, cave dark.
Panic ensued. There was a good bit of yelling. Assistants bumped into each other. Switches were flicked. Extension cords whipped around on the carpet like serpents until, finally, after an eternity of almost three whole minutes, the lights ...
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