I am sorry that you are so bothered that I cited the public service announcement on your blog about STGRB as a mere mention in my post. I am sorry that you feel this link inclusion somehow personally attacks you. I’m sorry that you’ve chosen to introduce yourself to our readers in such a way, and I’m sorry you did not receive a pleasant reception to your self -imposed unpleasant beginning here.
I’m sorry that you can’t tell an individual (me) from a group (whoever you seem to be lecturing or attacking at the time), that you choose to treat me like the enemy and that my politeness seems to irritate you. I’m sorry you lost your temper with others, called them names and threatened them. And I’m sorry if I seemed ungrateful when you say that you “defended me” behind my back when I was being bullied, harassed and treated unethically at STGRB when I need no such defence and I apologize for offending you by not obeying your direct commands to email or ring you privately.
I’m sorry that you were “lured back” to this blog and I’m sorry that your many detractors got the best of you. I’m sorry that you don’t understand the concept of personal responsibility and I’m sorry you’re offended that I don’t take up for you when you fight with other people. I’m sorry you’re upset that I don’t censor others when they address you. I’m sorry you’re upset at being moderated when you’re not and I’m sorry the hypocrisy of this – that you want me to do to others what you won’t have me do to you – seems to miss you.
I’m sorry that you don’t know a good deal when you see one or that you can’t seem to follow simple directions when they are presented to you. I’m sorry that you feel you’re being censored when your comments post visibly on this blog. I’m sorry that you can’t keep track of your comments long enough to notice that you’re not being moderated – unlike your own blog or STGRB, both of which are heavily moderated and often edited – and I’m sorry the thought of being moderated is so upsetting to you that you would react instead of simply patiently waiting, hitting refresh or contacting the blog to inquire about any perceived delays in comment posting.
I’m sorry you dislike it that I called you out for talking trash about me in public.and gave a thorough account of how unreasonable and unstable your performances have been here. I’m sorry that you feel the need to insult me when I am courteous with you. I’m sorry people call you a racist and insist your remarks toward women are derogatory because you make slurs like “Mexican bitch” or refer to a young black woman as a monkey. And I’m sorry your idea of defending yourself is Pee Wee’s Playhouse “I know I am but what are you?” and that it doesn’t work.
I’m sorry that you can’t answer a direct question when it’s posed to you, won’t stop talking about a teenager who clearly wants nothing to do with you and that you’ve still confused no moderation with its opposite, being banned. I’m sorry you’re upset that someone keeps calling you a pedophile (the accurate word is Ephebophile) and I’m even sorrier that the person who keeps doing that is you.
I’m sorry that you don’t know the meaning of the word constructive and that you have work so hard to justify your own hypocrisy. I’m sorry that you think black people are monkeys or that your comeback to Ann Somrville was completely lame and wince-worthy.
I’m sorry you continuously confuse the posting of domain registration information entered knowingly and willingly into the public domain with actual doc-dropping. And I’m sorry that I deleted the details of your life that other people posted on this blog and closed comments entirely to ensure your privacy, hopefully stopping a full doc-drop from spreading across the internet faster than a tsunami can take a small Pacific island. Oh yes, and I’m sorry I did this hours after you insinuated that you would hunt and drop Cheri’s private information, which no doubt shows what an unethical hypocrite I must be to help you.
But wait, there’s more!
I’m sorry I have been courteous, polite and well-behaved while debunking your allegations and exposing your lies. I’m sorry I did it with actual evidence, including your very own words. I’m sorry you and your ilk are allergic to screen shots and can’t seem to register them. I’m sorry you can’t construct an argument to save your life, can’t think or type your way clear of an open field and that you get your uppity backside kicked in every debate you stupidly fumble into.
I’m sorry I inspire loyalty and you don’t. I’m sorry people like me and they don’t like you. I’m sorry people believe and trust me and they’d rather be boiled in oil than risk asking you what time it is. I’m sorry your detractors are wittier and more interesting than you are. And I’m sorry that you feel the need to not only regurgitate your half-baked stories but change them at your whim and hope no one notices. I’m sorry they notice and call you on it every time.
I’m sorry I’m a woman. I know that bothers you. Actually, I’m a pretty woman and that probably makes it worse for you. Okay, I’m sorry I’m a smart and pretty woman, and that you react like a screeching Gollum in search of your precious ring because I still refuse to be alone with you no matter how many times you command it. And I’m sorry it upsets you that I won’t allow you to control me.
I’m sorry that you lied about your age to score a mate you could have fathered. I’m sorry your self esteem is so poor that you feel you have to date teenagers to make yourself feel safer. I’m sorry that women who are old enough to buy and smoke cigarettes frighten you. I’m sorry you pretended to be this model because you’re ashamed that you really look like this and I don’t know why you’d feel that way.
I’m sorry you don’t think you’re good enough the way you are.
I’m sorry people don’t like your books. I’m sorry they make fun of your music. I’m sorry they treat your poetry as of it’s a live broadcast from The Vogon Mothership. I’m sorry you’re lonely. I’m sorry you’re hurt. I’m sorry you’re angry. I’m sorry you brought this entire disaster on yourself, from your time spent at Goodreads until now. I’m sorry that you’re your own worst enemy, that you don’t like being you and that you hate your life. And I’m sorry that you insist on taking it out on everyone around you rather than find some happiness in this world.
In short, Mr. Bryant, I fully and completely apologize for my kindness, courtesy, understanding, fairness, compassion, empathy, pity, respect, integrity, ethics and good manners.
It won’t happen again.