I’m actually crying on my keyboard, big drops of brain rain from my head plopping down onto the letters before me.
That was three fat teardrops in a row landing on the ‘X’ !!!
I’m leaving it there for you to read because it really does seem like a sign to me this rough and tumble morning; a really weird sign of things to come.
I suppose, in a way, my wife and I now must face the music. We are the only responsible ones.
We are the ones who made the video that has somehow made it onto the internet.
People always warn ya: ‘don’t record yourselves in the bedroom…you never know where that footage might end up!” But, did we listen? Did we heed their wisdom?
We were dumb. Green. Naive. Driven by our own twisted desire to watch each other, to observe ourselves in action on the mattress in the privacy of our own bedroom after a couple of glasses of wine one Saturday night.
But now, our choice has returned to haunt us, like some vindictive ghost hovering over the bed. Today, we regretfully join the embattled ranks of the stolen ‘tape’ crowd.
I’m talking Tommy Lee and Pamela Anderson
And Paris Hilton and what’s-his-face.
I’m talking Kim Kardashian and Ray J.
And Hulk Hogan and some woman who slept with Hulk Hogan.
I feel violated. WE feel violated. We ARE violated. Hell, if you watch this thing, YOU will feel violated too
Please don’t be like the others here, friends! Please DON’T watch this stolen tape of me and my wife in our most private moments in our bedroom!
Resist this actual raw uncensored in-your-face live action footage, if you possibly can!**
Thank you, loyal readers and takers-of-the-high-road.
We love you in our time of need.
** Only a freaking Level 5 tornado shooting out of a brontosaurus’s ass could keep you away.
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