Listen, about the other night. I'd like to formally apologize here, on the blockchain, where no one will ever be able to erase or unlearn the important facts surrounding this most sincere request for forgiveness. I am so very, very sorry for so many, many things, but they always say to begin at the beginning, so let's start from there.
I'm Sorry For Misinterpreting Your Request
When you've consumed as much Mountain Dew as I had that fateful evening, things can get a little blurry. I'm not sure whether it was technically really late at night, or really early in the morning, but in my highly-caffeinated state, I took your Paypal message of funds transferred in exchange for, and I quote, "Buttplugs. Cases of em" at its full face value:
Exhibit A
This, I assure you, is a mistake I will not make again. Mostly because I no longer have cases of buttplugs, but I'll get to that momentarily.
I'm Sorry For The Surprise Postal Inspector Visit
I know ignorance of the law is no excuse, but I admit I should have known better than to attempt to ship whole cartons of sex toys pleasure enhancement devices across state lines without first consulting with my lawyer. Actually, my lawyer would have been asleep at the time this all went down, but if I hadn't needed to void the ol' bladder as a result of the copious Dew ingestion previously mentioned, I could have at least checked with . Lord knows that guy never sleeps--he was probably up wrapping Jurassic World toys, or Dr Pepper cotton candy, or (as it turns out) entire cartons of buttplugs.
Seriously, is there anything he won't attempt to resell?
In any case, now that saner heads (and emptier bladders) have prevailed, I fully recognize that mail fraud is a serious matter. Next time I'll have them shipped First Class instead of Media Mail. Hopefully this will avoid any unpleasant recurrences involving clothing removal, lube, rubber gloves, and people who don't respond to the safe word.
I'm Sorry For Denigrating (However Inadvertently) The Postal Inspectors' Intelligence
Mr. Inspectors, if you are reading this, "Bulgaria" is a demand for you to cease activity associated with any and all bodily orifices, not a request to "double our efforts until you stop resisting!".
That's actually "Luxembourg".
I know the two are easily confused on the map, but I would think as people responsible for ensuring the proper delivery of goods in an accurate and timely fashion, you would be at least casually familiar with geography. My apologies for not taking this into account before you became so intimately acquainted with my fellow Steemian, .
I'm Sorry Your Wife Had To See All That
I can think of very little more off-putting than to wake up in the middle of the night to see your husband surrounded by strange and unfamiliar men who are seemingly convinced he may be smuggling contraband within his prostate.
I noted with all due clarity the pain in her voice when she happened upon the scene and said, "Again?!" in that certain way all wives have of saying, "Again?!" when their husbands have done something mind-blowingly stupid.
I watched her swift departure, the slumped and shuddering shoulders, the unwillingness to face the truth of what was happening in her own living room. I felt her humiliation and her shame. I heard her tears, which sounded like peals of uncontrollable laughter, so great was her sorrow. I felt her pain, and I'm reasonably certain you did too.
Well, maybe that was the Postal Inspectors. Again, all the Mountain Dew makes things a little fuzzy. I swear, one of them was using a goddamn Rubik's Cube or something with at least that many corners. I'm pretty sure I didn't jam it up there myself. I draw the line at pool noodles--you know that.
I'm Sorry For The Memo I Left
As a way of conveying my deepest sympathies and condolences, I hope by now you've seen the transfer of 600 Steem from my account into yours. While it's not likely to come anywhere close to paying all the associated fines, I felt it was the least I could do. Unfortunately during the transfer, an accident involving the keyboard and my genitalia resulted in the Memo field containing the phrase, "For sensual massage":
I tried to cancel the transaction, but it was too late. Fearing the whole blockchain will think there's something wrong with me, my only hope was to pen this open apology in the hopes of setting everything right. I throw myself upon the mercy of the court of public opinion and beg for my exoneration. As should by now be clear, neither one of us deserved this, and I vow to be more careful when it comes to shipping large quantities of sex toys marital aids in the future.
The contest rules say I need to push two other people into participating, so here goes: and
, get in here and tell your stories for a chance to make people laugh and win fabulous prizes!
Thanks to all the judges, apologies to , and I'll see myself out.