In an attempt to atone for my sins this weekend, I've written up a few open letters of apology to those affected by my dumbassery...
Dear Guy On Subway: I'm sorry, but your outfit was really stupid, and Jessica and I simply had to have a picture of it. We hope for your sake that you were on your way to a costume party.
Dear Lesbians: Maybe it was all the sangria, but I'm not quite sure what I was thinking when I attempted to funnel three beers -- especially considering I've never funneled anything before, and I don't really drink beer. Regardless, I apologize for covering most of your party guests in cheap beer, and I fully understand if I am not invited to the next gathering.
Dear Domini: Sorry I keep getting drunk and taking pictures of your boobs. I'm sure the novelty will wear off. Someday. Maybe.
Dear White People Who Got the Cab We Wanted: I feel really bad about implying you took the cab because you were racist, and telling you that "you better get your act together for Black History Month". That was somewhat inappropriate.
Dear Avenue A: I'm sorry my friend vomited all over you. That must have sucked.
Dear Emily: Wow - I can't imagine why I walked up to the guy you were talking to, even though I had never met him before, and told him "Dude, you are totally her type, you should tap that ass. You totally could if you wanted to." Hope that wasn't awkward, considering he was your good friend and all.
Dear Friend of Emily: Sorry if I scared you. But seriously, you could hit that if you put a little more effort into it.
Dear Patrons of Bar #2: I know what you're thinking -- "He probably should have stopped drinking before he thought it was a good idea to start doing the Electric Slide in the middle of the bar. By himself. Poorly." You're probably right.
Dear Anyone I've Forgotten: If I don't remember it, it doesn't count. Screw you.