Mea Culpa

Ok, so a sufficient enough time has passed, a sufficient amount of wine drunk, a sufficient obsession with Kris Kristofferson and his newfound humility and philosophy has developed. I realize that my entry of a couple months ago ("What the F(*#?: No to Blogger Hari Kari) was ill-advised, insensitive and all around assholish. My motivation was good, believe it or not--a twisty kind of way to express how much I love and miss those carriers of the heavy words with which I've shared so much over the years. But my methodology was flawed and, moreover, my dogged lack of realism got stuck in my mouth again. I know that everyone at whom I directed my loving guilt trip is a hardworking person with ever-increasingly responsibilities. I also realize that blogging itself is a half-assed way to "stay in touch." It was, however, half an ass that I enjoyed viewing. But the bottom line is that I withdraw fully and heartily apologize for my chastisement of all you wonderful, toiling souls that I could (and just might) pick up the phone and fucking call.