I have some apologies to make. To all of the following people, I am sorry. I have explained why following each person’s name. I hope you will all forgive me.
~ To Eli Manning, for not believing in you. You’ve apparently got more of your brother in you than just his lumpy-but-winning facial features.
~ To George Lucas, for all the shit I’ve talked about you over the years. It’s still mostly true, but after much consideration my feeling is that you’ve banked a lot of good will for giving us the first “Star Wars” trilogy as well as the character of Indiana Jones and Harrison Ford’s entire career. If you want to fuck up your own movies years after they have become cultural landmarks and release crappy cash-in sequels populated by CGI toy advertisements, I guess I can look the other way on it.
~ To Rob Thomas and Kristen Bell, for not watching your excellent series “Veronica Mars” when it was alive and struggling. I will try to make up for this slight by buying the DVDs and having a lot of Bell-centric dreams.
~ To Rob Thomas, creator of “Veronica Mars,” for briefly thinking you might be that other Rob Thomas who sings to me about how a heart breaks and was responsible in part for the suckification of Santana.
~ To my digestive tract, for the amount of cheese I put into you on Sunday. (Apparently this did not bestow supernatural powers upon the Green Bay Packers, though one would think that it might.)
~ To Kim, for unintentionally forcing you to watch a movie (“Glengarry Glen Ross”) that you did not enjoy. At all. In my defense, I will say only this: FUCK YOU, that’s my name! You know why, Mister? ‘Cause you drove a Hyundai to get here tonight, I drove an eighty thousand dollar BMW. That’s my name!
~ To that 10 year old kid I played Halo 3 with online last night, for teabagging you relentlessly until you quit out of the game. The intended meaning of my actions was accurate – I am, in fact, much better than you, and you can’t bring that trash in my house – and it is also true that your voice combines the worst attributes of a dog whistle and a howler monkey. Still, I will feel terrible if you end up committing suicide.
~ To everybody, for not taking out that hit on Tom Brady. We all deserve better than this.
~ To my friends and miscellaneous other readers, for foisting this silly little nothing of a post on you.