Sorry is Always Too Late

I've been writing this blog since October and I've said a lot. I wanted to take the opportunity to apologize for some of my actions:

First, sorry to my daughter, who now thinks cardboard air fresheners are necklaces. I will get you the best therapy this country has to offer. Translation: I will take you shopping.

As an aside: She just started peeing in the potty. She says, "I made yellow." She says next time she wants to make pink.

Sorry to the city of Winnemucca. It's a lovely place... to serve a ten to twenty year sentence. When I go to prison I'm going to ask the judge to send me to Winnemucca (I'm not saying I'm a bad dude, that just seems to be our default solution to the great many problems in our nation).

Sorry to people who do not have any sense of identity and mistakenly think that my observations of social behavior are instruction as to "what is normal" and how they, themselves, should behave.

Sorry to sexy grandmas. I just get a little creeped out, that's all. Like I said, give me 30 more years and I'll probably be singing a different tune.

Sorry to Apatosaurus for my bad spelling.

Connecticut can still cram it, as can the police and dentists.