What’s the thing that comes after despair and before devastation? Because that’s what I’m going through right now as I’m come to terms with the fact that the Taylor Swift and Harry Styles sex tape is a fake. Just when I thought I could finally put my feet up and relax to the sounds of two young people having contractually obligated sex, I get informed that the tape doesn’t exist. (The limit does not exist!)
Like the rest of America, I always look forward to ending my week with a salacious star-studded sex tape that comes from dubious sources. And like the rest of America, I go through all the stages of grief when I find out that it doesn’t exist. What’s the point of living a life where all the sex tapes are lies? That’s a rhetorical question. Don’t answer it in the comments. Instead just reflect on what it means to you and your family and your future.
And while you reflect, keep this tidbit from the Today Show in mind if you see a link for the alleged sex tape floating around the interweb.
“Clicking on the video link doesn’t show you anything salacious. Instead, you’ll be drawn into a morass of surveys and scams that may ask you for your email address, your mobile-phone number and your name and address, or offer you dodgy-looking games and browser toolbars.”
A morass of surveys and scams. A MORASS! That’s the worst part of this whole mess. The word morass gets used. Ugh. I don’t know what I’m going to do with my day now. I guess work, but that’s like totally lame for a Thursday.