Dear Sweetie Pie,
Baby, I’m really sorry about Valentine’s Day this year. I know I screwed up. The enthusiasm and spirit were there, but I made some egregious errors in judgment. And for that, I apologize. I really hope we can get past this and enjoy the upcoming Presidents Day, or perhaps March’s National Poison Prevention Week. But, just to be thorough, I wanted to specifically apologize for the following incidents from yesterday…
I’m sorry I used an emoticon when I texted you yesterday morning. I was hoping you’d find it silly and cute, and I didn’t realize that it would immediately shrink my penis four inches.
I’m sorry that when we were passionately making out in your bed I grabbed your ass and yelled, “Oooh, the McRib is back!” I know it ruined the moment. I’m just really excited about the McRib coming back.
I’m sorry that I waited until you were in the mood again to reveal that I had bought lambskin condoms. When the counter guy at 711 called them “the RC Cola of condoms,” I thought he meant it as a compliment.
I’m sorry that I convinced you that “Du Hast” by Rammstein was my parents’ wedding song. That is not true. Also, heavy metal is not “considered the music of romance in my parent’s homeland.” My parents are from Brooklyn. I don’t even know what “Du Hast” is about, but I saw the music video once and I’m pretty sure it’s not love.
I’m sorry that I installed Norton AntiVirus on your computer. I didn’t realize that it’s actually far more annoying and malicious than any virus could possibly be. You have to admire their audacity, though. I mean, they’re just shameless.
I’m sorry that in the middle of dinner I swore that if we didn’t start watching the Jack Black version of Gulliver’s Travels “in the next ten minutes” that I would “literally kill myself.” I was being very melodramatic.
I’m sorry that I made you leave the restaurant before we finished eating so that we could get to the video store before it closed.
I’m sorry that halfway through the Jack Black version of Gulliver’s Travels I tried to kill myself anyway. It was really, really bad though. You looked like you were considering it yourself, actually. In fact, I’m almost not even sorry about this one.
I’m sorry about the new nickname I came up with for you. I was just trying to be cute, and I swear that I’ve never heard that word used as a racial slur before.
I’m sorry that I didn’t want to watch it with you, but honestly, I just don’t like How I Met Your Mother. I’m not trying to diminish your enjoyment of it. But I’m just not a fan, okay? So stop looking at me like that.
I’m sorry that all I got you for Valentine’s Day was $100 worth of Netflix stock. That was a mistake, both romantically and financially. If it makes you feel any better, my only other idea was to get you pair of JNCOs. And let me tell you, they are hard to find nowadays.
I’m sorry I used the “Valentine’s Day was created by greeting card companies” cliché as an excuse for my shoddy homemade card. However, this might have worked if I had given you a thoughtful handcrafted card instead of a rushed attempt at a sonnet written on the back of a Chipotle receipt.
I’m sorry I kept yelling “Hoo-ah!” constantly throughout the day, buy I finally got around to seeing Scent of a Woman over the weekend.
I’m sorry I blurted out that Clay Aiken was gay without saying “Spoiler alert!” first. I really thought you’d heard, or just intuitively knew.
I know you can forgive me for these minor, yet cumulatively substantial blunders. You know I can do better. Just you wait till the 18th — it’s National Battery Day, baby. Get excited.