Apology #1
Your hair is dumb. You have the dumbest hair I have ever seen, and we can’t hang out for that reason. I made a vow or something like fifteen years ago, a vow that I’d never degrade myself by hanging around irresponsible haircuts ever again, and I won’t break that vow, ever. Sorry.
Apology #2
I’ve been elected Governor of Delaware. State law says that dealing drugs is illegal, and since you are my drug dealer, we can no longer be friends. Yeah, bummer.
I’ll take a dime bag. Sorry.
Apology #3
Three-thousand years ago, in the deepest of the Amazon, a child was miscarried by the Goddess Asima Si, the Bakairi Goddess of river and fish. The deity-child was then buried at the foot of the biggest tree in the entire forest, and a chant was bellowed for a thousand years over the foot of his grave by a Bakairi tribe dedicated to chanting and doing hallucinogens and other cool shit.
Three-thousand years later, that very tree was clear-cut and made into ranch land. I totally just ate a cow raised on that land at Dairy Queen, and now I’m cursed, and now I think I’m going to kill you with my Powerbook. I’m sorry it has to be like this. It’s not you, it’s me. Sorry.