I'm clearly on a porn tip today. Jonathan has sent his digital camera in for repair. I hope it didn't contain any dodgy home-made porn like the camera Marcus handed in. Yes, Marcus and I did the first thing that most new owners of a video camera do - we filmed ourselves doing, er, stuff. Then Marcus dropped the camera [not during the act, but a couple of days later, when he was showing the film to his flatmate. And now it's broken.

Many, many years ago, I had a boyfriend called Kobus [pronounced "coo, a bus!"] who lived with his aged mother. He had one of the first video cameras - a huge thing which took full-sized video tapes. Thinking back, I guess he must have done this kind of thing before, because he had all the gear - a tripod, professional lighting, etc. He set the camera up at the end of the bed, and we, well, you know.

One day, he was all alone in the house, feeling a bit horny, so he put the tape in the VCR in the lounge and watched us. Now, here comes the key bit: he then left the tape in the machine.

A few days later, he and I and his mother were in the lounge, watching TV. Mom had the remote. "There's nothing on tonight - let's see if we've taped anything..."

With that, she pressed "Play".

It took a while for me to register just what I was seeing. Bodies. Naked bodies. Our naked bodies. Oh shit. Kobus leapt out of his chair and frantically hit the VCR, shouting, "No, ma, you don't want to watch that!"

"Why? What is it?"

She seemed genuinely perplexed, and to this day I have no idea if she:
a) realised it was two people having sex.
b) realised the two people were male.
c) realised the two males were her son and me.

She did die of a heart attack not long after that, though.