AN OPEN APOLOGY:

An Open Letter to Everyone At Automatic Slim's on the Night of December 31, 2005-January 1, 2006:


Dear Everyone,

I am sorry. The only excuse that I can muster was "I was fucked up." Now, I've already sent out a preliminary "I'm sorry I grabbed your boobs" text message to my friends whose numbers I had. To everyone else whose boobs I may have grabbed, including Margot's, the Slim's bartender in the skimpy Bikini - I am sorry. I'm sorry I grabbed your boobs.

Yeah. I was just really fucked up. The bartenders remembered me from last year, we all loved each other, I tipped them over fifty dollars...we all know where this is going, right?

I was. Dr. U. U. U. N. K.

That explains the dancing. In reality, I hate dancing. Not when I'm drunk, I guess. If I'm dancing - just stay away from me. Offer me no encouragement. Just let me find something else to do - like smoke cigarettes, and talk to the Bathroom attendant.

I'm seeing the digital pics roll in. It's not pretty. Mouth open. Always yelling? Sunglasses? God, I was in rare form. Anyone else I may have offended, I'm sorry. It really wasn't me out there, it was eleven Redbull and Vodkas. And some shots. And godknowswhatever else. Note: Please see The Brewer Patriot's blog for the realization that we can't drink like we used to anymore...

Anyhoo - I guess that's all I wanted to say. I sure hope I was fun...and I've already been assured I wasn't "that bad" or whatever... but still. Seeing the pictures elicit the hide-under-the-sheets embarassment and random flashbacks that come with any good blackout.

Please don't cross me off the party invitation list quite yet. I promise I won't be so nuts next time...