My Gratuitous Apologies…

To my dear friends traveling in the passenger and back seats: I’m sorry for being the “drunk bitch” that had to pull over 4 times to “release”. Oh, and I’m sorry for endangering your lives, and I’m even more sorry that neither of you can drive a stick.

To my dear friend at home: I’m sorry that J gave you the play-by-play of our journey to get home from the club last night. Don’t judge me.

To my knees: I’m sorry for swag surfin’ so hard, that’s just my shit.

To the bartender on the second floor: Bless you.

To the random gentleman that I gave way too much attention to: I’m sorry, if I were sober, I never would’ve even given you a second look.

To my prospective clients: I’m sorry that I keep swaying back and forth. I’m still fucked up.

To my 5″ black suede peep toe shoes: I’m sorry for spilling my second Jack and Coke on you. Blame it on “Blame it”. That’s my other shit.

To my darling puppy dog: Thanks for loving your mommy even when she’s shit-faced. Oh, and I’m sorry for choking you.

To my co-workers: Nah, nevermind. You guys are still drunk too.

To DJ Analyze and DJ Money: Way to go, boys!

To my freshly pressed hair: I’m sorry, I’ll get you right before the weekend is over.

To the girl in the purple dress: I’m sorry I lied and told you that purple looked great on you. It was an effort to curtail “the black girl stare”. That shit was pretty awful.

Thank you and I’m sorry.

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