Addendum:

For those of you wondering if I'll be okay now the press has leaked that my wife is having a child with her undercovah lovah... it's okay. Really, after a few black-and-tans, I will be completely fine. Though I've been exposed to the entire world as a cuckhold, my heart will go on and on like a Celine Dion song.

At first I raged, I cried, I punched my exorbitantly expensive yet delicately tasteful pillows. I even had an entire 80's movie-montage of sappy love dirges, complete with Ben & Jerry's. Oh, wait, scratch that-- that's so common. It was Godiva chocolate ice cream. You know, the kind with the little heart-shaped caramels?

I digress.

It was hard to hear, but now that I've visited the latest metrospiritual guru, I acknowledge that all good things must come to an end, and Angie must follow her bliss, even if that means leaving me for some no-name actor. At least he's kinda cute. Not as cute as me, but there's no accounting for taste. I wish her the best, and I hope she's happy, and maybe they'll invite me over for threesomes every now and then. She says she's considering naming the child after me in honor of our love.

But just between you and me? Eh, I'm over it. I've already moved on. Look at this boy. Isn't he precious? He even sings!