I apologize for…what am I supposed to be sorry for again?

I have come to the conclusion that I am a deeply flawed man. Actually, it has been pointed out to me by everyone I know on enough occasions to require mild acknowledgment. So rather than take an introspective look inside myself, and have nothing to atone for on Yom Kippur, I figured I would throw out some random, feel good apologies. They will be more sincere than “statements of regret,” or “If I offended anybody,” platitudes made famous by politicians, but less complete than actual contrition. Like a tragic Greek hero, flaws and all, I offer apologies for my transgressions.

The macaroni incident. I am not ready to talk about it.

As God as my witness, I thought mountain goats could fly.

My Chasidic adult video collection, and my unhealthy obsession with Bea Arthur.

I did not know she was your daughter sir. At least it was not your son!

Death threats against referees are not acceptable, even when they make bad calls that destroy the very fabric of society.

Celebrating Gaza burning. Actually, I am sorry for being delighted by it. Well, no, not really…but maybe I should be.

How was I supposed to know that in Florida it is called Highway 95, not the speed limit?

I never killed Kenny, but I think the people who did are b@stards. Actually, that has nothing to do with anything, South Park is on television right now.

Rooting for the lions on December 24th. It’s not that I mind Christians, I just wish something was open besides bowling allies and Chinese food places. To avoid being charged with hate thoughts, I meant the Detroit Lions.

I apologize for liberals. Somebody should.

Like I am the only one that finds humor in exploding potatoes in the microwave. I did eat the thing afterward, it was a victimless crime.

I apologize for thinking it.

It was a Halloween costume. Of course I don’t normally wear those.

Those are not mine. An ex must have left them here.

Of course I was not with another woman. Those are mine, I wear them all the time.

Commando Wednesday did not seem like a bad idea at the time. I did not expect the underwear lobby to consider a one day a week boycott as an act of aggression.

Ditto for the idea of Pantsless Wednesday. It was not to be implemented in conjunction with Commando Wednesday. It was an either or deal.

I owned a Milli Vanilli cassette. I know, I know.

How was I supposed to know we were being videotaped? Besides, I am a taxpayer, it’s my sidewalk too.

To all my former teachers, it was my parents who taught me that stuff. To mom and dad, it was the school system that caused it.

Mistress Evil…you were worth every penny. I am sorry nonetheless.

I know I should have rushed that guy to the hospital, but my tivo was not working.

Oh, like I am the only guy who understand that a jacuzzi filled with lemon lime jello is sometimes appropriate.

It’s not that books are boring, but Cliff Notes are just incredibly exciting.

It’s not that I sing badly, but many people who hear me are tone deaf.

All the guys in junior high wore mirrors on their sneakers.

I should not have eaten that. I should not have drank that. I should not have said that, done that, thought that, or induced somebody else to say, think or do it.

I forgot what it was. I need a better memory.

I should not have referred to her delectable bits in such infantile terms, no matter how yummy they is.

My parents cannot afford to keep moving addresses and changing their last names.

I apologize for being insincere with regards to all of the above…or some of it…well, most of it anyway.

I apologize for…oh no wait, somebody else did that. I was innocent on that one.

Maybe Suing Santa Claus when I was a boy was heavy handed, but that fat b@stard skipped my home. I still maintain he is an anti-semite.

The pirate digging for buried treasure remark was inappropriate. She was not amused. I used to call it beaversnatching, but that is redundant, therefore twice as immature.

I should not have prevented black Americans in Florida from voting in 2000, but how else could I take part in a great American conspiracy? I was shocked and embarrassed when I found out I made that up and it never happened anywhere.

I can’t help it. Deuce Bigalow Male Gigolo is the greatest movie since Weekend at Bernies. I was wrong to say it was Ace Ventura Pet Detective.

Swearing, especially taking the lord’s name in vain. I can’t help it. Football and sex are important.

I know Pol Pot was evil, but he does look like a warm fuzzy dude.

Ok, I feel cleansed. Purifying the soul is important. There is nothing like a clean slate.

Ok, off to write a quick blog about politics before one of my phone sluts calls. Don’t worry, I won’t touch myself, especially since I do not know where I’ve been.

Oh great. I apologize for that remark as well.

Now, to concentrate on political blogging and phone sluts.


5 Responses to “I apologize for…what am I supposed to be sorry for again?”

  1. Tim says:


    We added your blog to our site and would feel equally privileged if you added us to yours. http://www.thedailyslant.com (“The Daily Slant”)

    Best regards,

  2. I see that you are acknowledging that you are a “flawed man” but no where do I see your apology for “being” a man. :-) Maybe I missed it.

    I love your writing.

    Maggie’s Notebook

  3. Stormwarning says:

    I recently gave this advice to a younger friend:

    You did “it,” no matter what “it” was, you did “it.” Even if you don’t know what “it” is, you did “it,” so you might as well own up to “it,” and take your medicine like a man. You did “it” whether you were in the room at the time that “it” happened or not. In fact, even if you weren’t in town when “it” happened, you did “it.”

    Be a man!

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