At the risk of sounding like a bitter, barren old shrew, your kids aren’t that cute. I can tell by the way you’re smiling and applauding them that this is their first time throwing their own garbage away in a public trashcan, but I don’t need to be a part of this milestone in your child’s life. Please save the lessons and the exercises for home or the classroom and keep them out of my local Panera.

Listen. I’m trying not to sound too terribly accusatory here. But you guys have caused me no small amount of irreversible psychological damage over the years. Observe: Don’t Break the Ice, Don’t Spill the Beans, Don’t Wake Daddy. “Don’t do this! Don’t do that!” Your board games are ripe with such negative language—and during the formative years, no less!

The recent boom in the “politics of personal destruction” has created a need for effective public apologies to be rendered by those cultural icons caught being naughty. The following speech, which was presented live on Gotham City television by a contrite Caped Crusader, may serve as a model for apologizers everywhere:

BAT-APOLOGY

The passing this week of Flushing delicatessen owner Fillmore Weinreb might have gone unnoticed were it not for his improbable claim nearly four decades ago that he, and not Neil Armstrong, had in fact been the first man on the moon, along with his cat, Max.

Jonathan, what does one actually do with an MFA in Creative Writing?   That’s right, bitches!  In case you all didn’t hear, I finally graduated with an MFA, a master’s degree in the delicate art of making shit up. Of course, this is usually a wonderful topic at parties.  Once an MFAer is identified, everyone

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