Not many people know this about me, but I’ve got a specially-abled twin brother living in my basement. Usually, he’s okay, but sometimes I have to chain him up. He goes really crazy over my wife and gets jealous about other things, too, like the Super Bowl.
Honestly, I’m not too bright myself either after all those blows to the head. You ever have one of those days when you forget how to spell the word “cat”? Apparently neither do most people.
After all these Super Bowls, my brother Dom Brady is going nuts. He’s demanding that this time, it’s his turn, and my wife actually agrees with him. I don’t think they understand how difficult my job is, and even though we’re identical twins, people are going to be able to tell the difference. Dom hasn’t been out of that basement in almost 20 years, and before that, he was locked up in my parents’ basement. All of those years without sunlight have done something horrible to his skin, hair, bones, really everything. He looks like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.
But on the other hand, they’ve kind of got a point. He never gets to do anything, and it must drive him crazy watching me make love to my wife. I know that sounds weird, but he begged us to let him watch and we kind of caved and now I can’t get off unless he’s watching. He cheers for me. For us.
And it’s not like I couldn’t use a break. If we had more of a running game I’d let him do it. Definitely. What do you think?
Dear Tom Brady,
No need to feel dumb about not remembering how to spell “cat”. The fact is, the spelling of that particular word has changed 12 times this year alone. See, as God, I’m absolutely infallible. That means every time I make what you humans call a “typo,” whatever I’ve written automatically becomes the new official spelling of the word. Whenever that happens, I just retcon the memories of every living human so they know the new spelling. Well, I guess not every human. Some humans can’t read at all.
Believe it or not, the original spelling of “cat” was “quawt.” The pronunciation used to be different, too. Also, the definition.
So you asked about whether or not you should finally let your brother play in your place at the Super Bowl this year. You mentioned your team’s weak running game but all that really matters is how well he can deflate a football. It takes soft hands like yours to let just enough air out of the ball so nobody notices. I’m afraid your brother may have the kind of hands where it’s best not to let him tend the rabbits if you know what I mean.
Dear Tom Brady,
I have a confession to make. Sometimes when I’m fucking your wife, I take the form of your brother. And when your real brother happens to be watching us, I morph his appearance so that he looks like you. Unfortunately, this is the only way Gisele can get off these days. You’d think my 12-inch flaming hot barbed cock would be enough, but it’s not. And I gotta tell ya, this isn’t great for my self-esteem. But then I remember just how crazy she is. Of course, that’s my fault, too. She really lost it after I turned her legs into gazelle legs. Now, I think she’s finally starting to get used to those things. It helps that I encourage her to kick me in the nads with her hooves during foreplay. She seems to really enjoy that.
Have an uncomfortable question? Need some advice about your deviant behavior? If so, then it’s time to pray. Email your question to firstname.lastname@example.org, and it shall be answered in a Divine Advice column by Jesus and Satan.