I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this. It’s been eating me alive to keep this next bit of truth inside. But after everything I’ve not really seen or read or even cared about, the time has come for me to step forward and admit what I’ve known all along.

I am the woman who did not sleep with Jesse James.  There–I’ve said it. I feel better already, and I’m guessing the TV cameras will be here any minute.  In addition, I am the woman who never had sex with Tiger Woods, John Edwards, Mark Sanford, Eliot Spitzer or the next egotistical moron coming down the pike. It’s possible, the way things are going, that I’m the only woman who didn’t have sex with these jerks, but the jury is still out on that.

Honestly, it’s hard for me to keep track of all the married men I haven’t had sex with, so you’ll excuse me if I don’t list them all.  Surely there’ s a book deal in this somewhere.  There is a reality show I’d like to see–women giving the brush-off (or something more emphatic) to married men who don’t have the balls to admit they shouldn’t be married anymore.

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