Cigarettes and Car Sex

Alex. I know it’s uncomfortable to learn, but everyone goes through it. It’s a terrible revelation. I remember when it happened to me. I was ten, and I went for my evening cigarette after having settled down for the night. See, I was restless, and a good pop of nicotine was exactly what the doctor ordered for my insomnia. I had a prescription. So I grabbed my carton of lung poison and headed outside. I know what you’re thinking. No, my parents weren’t in their room whipping each other with leather. I was smoking outside when my dad’s elbow accidentally hit the car horn. That’s right. Your grandparents were filthy, filthy car fuckers. There was an overhead compartment for sunglasses, but Dad kept his condoms there. It put me off so bad that I had to go off  and join law enforcement to put a stop to other perverts like them. Yes, that’s why I  became a Texas Ranger. That night was also the night of my brother’s conception. What was this about? Oh, right. It’s terrible news, but I’m afraid to admit: Yes, your  parents have sweaty, disgusting, mind-numbingly good sex. And we? We are your  parents.