We, I, make mistakes here at roundseventeen. And in the continuing spirit of transparency, I take it as my responsibility to own up to those occasional stumblings and attempt to right what was wrong.
Last week, as we all know, was supposed to be the end of the world -- The Rapture. In addition to getting all my business in order I also took the time (since there was very little left of it) to feverishly write some letters and...how shall I phrase this...settle some scores.
Well, Jesus never made it to the party.
And so now I feel some apologies are in order.
To my ex-girlfriend: I'm sorry I posted your name and address on Craig's List. You do know how to show a man a good time, and it doesn't always involve a ball gag, a bouncy room and a recording of James Brown's, "It's Too Funky in Here."
To my former art director partner: I'm sorry I called you a tailcoat-riding, ink whore unfit to own a T-square or the latest version of Adobe CS5.5. I'm also sorry I de-friended you and posted that "recommendation" on linkedin. I hope your boss didn't see it.
To my former Creative Director: I'm sorry I called you a talentless, nagging hack with chronic halitosis and annoying underarm stubble. That letter was meant for a different ex-girlfriend.
That feels good to clear the air.
I feel better.
And I hope you do too.
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