How Do You Make A Public Apology? Not Like This
Hey, Jesse Watters. You're in the news again, but not for being bafflingly racist against Asian people this time. Instead, you scolded a crowd for booing Ivanka Trump, chiding them for being disrespectful. And in that same moist, smug breath, you let plop out: "But, uh, I really like the way she was speaking into that microphone." To prevent any misinterpretation of this as an innocently unintentional innuendo, you smirked so greasily that your lips slid off your face.
Then, perhaps feeling the vague sense that "maybe I shouldn't have made a coy BJ joke on the heels of Bill O'Reilly being fired for sexual harassment," you jittered your oily fingers against a keyboard and beat out this masterpiece:
Now listen, blowjob mic guy. Can I call you Blowjob Mike? Cool. Listen, Blowjob Mike. You know this is bullshit, we know this is bullshit, you know we know this is bullshit. This as much an apology as a dollop of warm mayonnaise between two pieces of limp lettuce is a sandwich.
An apology has three basic ingredients:
1) Owning up to it
2) Being sincere
3) Not revealing that you are a colony of rats operating a man-suit
"I warned you assholes that this gig was too good to last."
You unfortunately failed to meet any of these criteria. To see an example of how it's done, you can look at Chris Pratt's recent apology. He said a pretty stupid thing about how Hollywood doesn't represent blue-collar workers, then, realizing it was actually a pretty stupid thing to say, tweeted "That was actually a pretty stupid thing to say." It's simple and minimalist, and people loved him for it. In fact, people might like him even more now, because it's so rare to see a public figure apologize so succinctly and sincerely. And he did it in a single, swift utterance. He didn't have to apologize for the apology, because he apologized in the first apology. Yes, it's true, it helps that he's more handsome and likable than you, but it is also massively important that he decided not to be a rampaging dicknoceros in his mea culpa.
So look, J.B. Watters. Can I call you B.J Watters? Cool. So look, B.J. Watters. I've got some advice for your next apology: Don't do it. That's right, just kick back, slap some more Axe on your scalp, and skip it. No matter what you do or how you apologize, people will see it for the turgid river of horse poop that it is. Because you see, Jesse "I Just Blew Myself" Watters, you are one of those rare people who can't make an apology without making it worse. Like United Airlines or human blobfish Alex Jones, you ooze insincerity out of every pore. Every time you make excuses or say you're sorry, it only underscores how actually not-sorry you are, and that you are a greasy hangover shit in human form. Just keep quiet and hope that you'll fall into the sweet merciful obscurity of people not caring all that much about you and your dumb show. Unless, of course, that's what you fear the most.
Katie Goldin is not sorry for her Tweets.
The proliferation of beer pong and craft beer may have you think that we're living in one of the peak times to get drunk, but humans have been getting famously hammered for millennia. Like a frat house's lawn after a kegger, history is littered with world-changing events that were secretly powered by booze. The inaugural games of the Roman Coliseum, the drafting of the U.S. Constitution, and the Russian Revolution were all capped off by major parties that most attendees probably regretted in the morning.
Join Jack O'Brien and Cracked staffers Carmen Angelica, Alex Schmidt, and Michael Swaim, plus comedian Blake Wexler, for a retelling of history's biggest moments you didn't realize everyone was drunk for.
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For more, check out The 5 Most Obnoxious Ways People Screw Up Apologies and 6 Types of Apologies That Aren't Apologies at All.
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