This is an apology. I didn’t mean it in that way.
I was reading the internets this morning as I rode to work and these internets included one of my and your favourite blogs, Carlomania.
That is not actually the beginning of the story.
It technically begins a handful of years ago, when Carlo was born.. Or not really. Maybe it begins when I was born. Back in the good old days.
After our respective births, we proceeded to meet and become close friends. We are so tight, my dear reader, that when her young boyfriend, who, due to my maturity I shall refrain from calling Lil Bow Wow, unleashed on me, poking merciless fun at me, flinging insensitive and cruel jibes at my innocent person, jibes that were drawn from my relative advancement in years, to whit, my being of distinguished age, calling me “Gandalf The Grey” to be precise, and thereby hurting my feelings, and I confronted him, tears in my eyes, quivering from the pain of the heartache, and I said, “How could you bruise me so? Were we not brothers? How could you?” and he said, “It wasn’t me who said it, it was Carlo,” I instantly forgave it all, thinking, if it was Carlo, then I cannot be mad. She was just joking, obviously. Carlo is incapable of saying or doing anything malicious to me. She’s my tight.
Besides, this was Carlo making fun of my age. Using a pop culture/ movie reference. This opened a huge bottomless can full of worms that I was going to delight in spewing for as long as it would take me to get bored.
I got bored eventually even before I began trawling for photographs of Eseza from Emiti Emito, and thought that it was time to look for other venues of amusement. Maybe, I thought, I could provoke OD to expose himself to my arsenal of pregnant man jokes. He has a glorious pot belly that is just begging for it.
Now, we get to this morning. Please take a moment to read Carlo’s lament:
I walked onto the plane that would take me to a distant Asian destination (Singapore) and the air hostess smiled and says, ‘I have something for you here’ while handing me a kiddies bag. A kiddies bag!!!! For crying out loud, do I look 10?
I responded to it this way:
It’s because you carry your Bratz dolls in your hand luggage, Miley Cyrus.
I sniggered as I hit save. These things amuse me very very much. You have no idea.
But then blogspot did something weird. The comment appeared without identifying me. It looked now like some cowardly wuss was making mean-spirited anonymous attacks on people. Which was wrong.
And I got to thinking, that maybe all the delight I take in calling my young little friends The Lil Rascals was not entirely pure. Maybe I was being mean. Maybe I was being spiteful.
Maybe, and by now I was weeping in shame, I was bullying! Bullying the little ones! I am so ashamed. That is not the type of person I am, really. I am not. I honestly do not ever mean anyone any harm. I am not a bully!
So, this post is to apologise to everyone, especially to Carlo. Please know that I have nothing but the utmost respect for you as a person, a grown up and an adult. You are an intelligent and sophisticated woman and if anyone was ever to put a gun to my head and force me to surrender the awesomeness of being a guy and told me that I had to chose which woman to become, you would be on the list of women I would be.
Except, of course, a few years older.
It's Stephanie. From Full House. Remember? Catch up, kids. Catch up.