Monday, April 26, 2004

I'm going to be frank. This whole passive/aggressive-game-of-determined-agitation Christian Scrawnwich has been playing is getting older than Limburger cheese (or maybe aged cheddar.)

I admit any wrongdoing, including (non-intentionally) insinuating that your overt passiveness is somewhat of a flaw.

My bad.

And I admit I can get irritating, overdoing the ribbing sometimes.

My bad again.

But this pick-a-fight-when-there-was-absolutely-no-reason-for-a-fight is overdoing the "Please call attention to my anger" act.

Are you going to tell me what the problem is because I'm not anxious to guess. This whole pouting equative might work marvels with someone else, but you're either going to have to confront me or our friendship is officially on the rocks.

Here are your choices: You can either seethe through the doldrums or (excuse the cliche) ride through the storm. It's up to you because even Shotgun Toter has sensed your change of behaviour around me.

I don't know if you're just trying to prove to me that you can be assertive/aggressive/manic depressive, but the bottom line is you've just been unnecessarily rude as of late.

This may sound hypocritical, but part of my personality is what you are (unconvincingly) trying to imitate. If I acted any differently, it would be out of character. You can't expect to "give me a taste of my own medicine" and expect me to realize my supposed faults (if that is, indeed, what you were aiming for) without, subsequently, seeing you under a negative light.

So this is my public apology. I'm sorry for my behaviour and the resulting offense it provoked. But I'm not sorry for being who I am.

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