[Another challenge from iScriblr. Of all the ones I’ve done so far, this one is clearly the most recent]
I looked into the mirror this morning and I realized that I had wronged you greatly; in fact, it was the most greatly that I’d ever wronged you… the greatliest wrong of all. And, I’m not the kind of a guy to tries to escape responsibility by claiming ignorance or, on the other hand, claiming supreme and arcane knowledge. To fully reflect on what I’ve done, I have to look deep inside myself… and when I do, I see a lot of things that I don’t like: Last night’s lasagna, my small intestine… the watermelon seed I swallowed as a child that holds, fifty years later, at three inches in length; but, if I look deeper, into my SOUL, I see much worse. I see a childish petty man who would do ANYTHING for attention; plus, that same man is standing on my large intestine contemplating my watermelon sapling. But, enough about people and organs who aren’t me…
I embarrassed you, last night. I laughed out loud when you told people what you did for a living; but, keep in mind, I was laughing with you. Not the PRESENT you, but the you who will one day look back on this and laugh… possibly embarrassing me. I already forgive you for that because I am a man of great forgiveness and understanding, no matter what goofy stuff you spout just to test my patience.
Yes, I drank a lot. Looking at myself, or reflecting, I can see completely how my exhausting the open bar might’ve drawn unwanted attention. I would’ve borne the brunt of everyone’s anger if only I hadn’t been outside in the fountain. Thank you for pulling me out and for the CPR.
Finally, I crossed a line when I introduced the cocktail waitress to you as “your replacement”. I crossed a second line when I held her against her will in the cloak room. But, even you will admit there was very little need for the hostage negotiator. My point is, I crossed some lines but there was a LOT of lines I didn’t cross… there always are. I’d say that they are practically an infinite number of them and I could’ve named them, last night, had I been sober and not under arrest.
So, after reflection, I see that I have a lot of work to do on myself—who doesn’t? But, I do hope that you will consider accepting my apologies because I love you so much and because my lunch isn’t going to make itself…
Oh man, that last line. Better be wearing a cup because there’s a kick in the balls coming.
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I was married for twenty-five years… I’d have to have them sewed back on, first…
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Oh, then I’m afraid it is too late. According to the Institute of Facts Not Science, the average time a woman will carry around a set of balls in her purse is six years. After which, she throws them off a cliff. It is likely your balls were consumed by either a Seagull or a turtle.
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Well, at least they did some creature some good.
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You would be on a crash course diet if you lived in my house
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Once in a while, I have to channel someone kind of evil.
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🙃
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Oh wow.. What a candid reflection!Loved it! 😉
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