A June entry in The Stranger's performance calendar described a recurring event as "a monthly burlesque revue with a revolting cast of Seattle performers." It was supposed to say "revolving." We regret the error.

In the February 12 issue of The Stranger, we referred to the record label Sub Pop as "Sup Pop." It had nothing to do with the ages of Sub Pop's founders Bruce Pavitt and Jonathan Poneman, who were also mentioned in that sentence. We regret the error.

Kathleen Richards, The Stranger's managing editor, regrets not writing about the fact that Congressman Jim McDermott, having noticed her Asianness at his primary election night party, asked her whether she was Chinese (she is not), asked if she moved to Seattle because of a man (she did not), and stated that "soon we're all gonna be brown." Ms. Richards also regrets failing to write that Mr. McDermott remarked that he was one of the few "pure" people left. Ms. Richards was very new to town and was unsure how to handle this interaction with a congressman, and even though she was encouraged to publish the details of this interaction by Stranger editor in chief Christopher Frizzelle, Ms. Richards declined to because she was being a wimp, which she regrets. She does not, however, regret responding to Mr. McDermott, "You're not that pure."

In the April 30 issue of The Stranger, we misspelled freelance contributor Sarah Neilson's name in the byline on her own article, in bold and all-caps. We regret the error.

In the January 15 issue of The Stranger, we encouraged newlyweds to fuck first because they'll be too tired after "the recption." We regret the error.

In the September 3 issue of The Stranger, we ran the wrong photo for a review of the movie Innocence. The published photo was from another movie, coincidentally also called Innocence. We regret the error.

In the August 27 issue of The Stranger, we ran an item in The Homosexual Agenda encouraging readers to go to a Dickslap party at the Eagle, a Seattle leather bar, when in fact the event was taking place at the Eagle in San Francisco, 800 miles away. We regret Adrian Ryan.

In the October 8 issue of The Stranger, in a piece about #SocialMedium at the Frye Art Museum, Stranger art critic Jen Graves referred several times to a painting titled Emma, when in fact it is titled Stella. We regret the error.

In a November 26 piece about the music-retail options at Alderwood Mall called "If Urban Outfitters Is the Best Music Store You Can Find, Digital Has Won," Stranger music critic Dave Segal forgot to check out the musical selections at Starbucks, which was ranked by Seattle Weekly as Seattle's best record store in 2012. We "regret" the oversight.

In the February 26 issue of The Stranger, we referred to the band Eurodanceparty USA as Euro Dance Party USA. After publication, a member of the band contacted The Stranger to tell us we had styled the band's name incorrectly. No, you styled the band's name incorrectly. We regret nothing.

In a November 25 Slog post, longtime Stranger staffer Paul Constant mistyped the name of the "Black Lives Matter" march as "Black Wives Matter." While Mr. Constant absolutely believes that African American women in committed relationships matter, that was merely an embarrassing typo. We regret the error.

Angela Garbes, Stranger food writer, regrets reading endless stories about the loss of the Paseo sandwich rather than the alleged lost wages of Paseo's workers. It's a fucking sandwich, people.

On a related point, Stranger food critic Angela Garbes deeply regrets the closure of Dot's Delicatessen (just up the street from Paseo) in June. Now those were some sandwiches.

Christopher Frizzelle, The Stranger's editor in chief, who writes the Morning News on Mondays on Slog, The Stranger's blog, regrettably added the presumptuous qualifier "frantically" to a September 29 headline: "Mercer Island Residents No Longer Frantically Boiling Water." As Mr. Frizzelle does not reside on Mercer Island or have omniscience, he was not in a position to assess in what manner Mercer Island residents were no longer bringing their tap water to a rolling boil, cooling it, and refrigerating it in clean covered containers to rid it of E. coli, a feces-borne bacteria that can cause diarrhea, stomach cramps, bloating, gas, fatigue, nausea, and vomiting. We regret the error and will try to keep that shit out of headlines.

Krishanu Ray, The Stranger's calendar editor, mistakenly ran an item in Stranger Suggests for Casablanca at Central Cinema on a day when Casablanca was not being shown at Central Cinema. We regret the error.

In a February 17 Slog post about inadequate funding for education, we published the word "eduction." Literally. We regret the error.

In the December 10 issue of The Stranger, the play Tiny Tim Is Dead was mistakenly identified as an ACT Theatre production. ACT Theatre had nothing to do with the production of Tiny Tim Is Dead, which was produced by some other theater company no one has ever heard of. We regret the error.

Stranger associate editor David Schmader regrets that former Stranger staffer Megan Seling left Seattle before the months-spanning parade of public shame and failure that preceded the dissolution of Mars Hill Church, because she would have loved watching that shit go down so much.

Charles Mudede, a longtime figure on The Stranger's masthead and a person who is not easily traumatized, was traumatized by $12 worth of food at Masala Express Indian Cuisine in the Alderwood Mall food court on a recent visit. Mr. Mudede's memory cannot find another place in his past that compares with the awfulness of Masala. None. Zero. Zip. Even the rice was bad. The rice!

Stranger arts editor Sean Nelson regrets trusting the kiosk salesman at the Alderwood Mall who said the two remote-controlled flying helicopters he bought (for the price of one) would work just as well as the demo models. They didn't fly for shit when Mr. Nelson got them home. We regret the error.

Ansel Herz, a Stranger staff writer, regrets reporting that city council members Sally Clark and Sally Bagshaw received campaign contributions from the Seattle Chamber of Commerce or its political arm, the Civic Alliance for a Sound Economy, this year, when in fact they received them in previous years and portions of those contributions were rolled over. On a related point, Mr. Herz regrets that big money's influence on Seattle politics is so immense that it cannot be exhausted in one campaign cycle.

Emily Nokes, music editor at The Stranger, regrets asking a person in front of Cafe Pettirosso about her cloak. Ms. Nokes should know better, but her curiosity and cloak jealousy got the best of her, and before she knew it, the should-have-taken-30-seconds exchange became a half-hour conversation about how you can layer cloaks with other coats, how cloaks can be worn over summer garments, what it means to own a "true traveler's cloak," how you really get used to wool after a while and don't notice the itching, how leaving your cloak at a friend's house will result in coming down with a cold, how it's better to order your cloak online than to purchase it at a renaissance fair, and the increase in cloak popularity since the winter solstice of 2011.

Stranger associate editor Eli Sanders regrets falling off his bike earlier this year, but he appreciates that a parked Car2Go made his landing a little softer than it might have been.

In the July 16 issue of The Stranger, we ran a photo caption that misspelled Betsy as Besty. In our defense, Betsy was the best. We regret the error.

Zach Peacock, social-media manager for The Stranger, sang "Buy U a Drank" by T-Pain in front of his coworkers during a karaoke happy hour at Rock Box. We regret the error.

In her first Slog post ever, new Stranger city hall reporter Heidi Groover used an obviously out-of-date photo of the Seattle City Council, which later had to be cropped to get rid of a guy who is no longer on the city council. Ms. Groover recently moved here from Spokane. We regret the error.

Bertha regrets everything, from her lonely birth to her boastful girth to her recent breaking and sinking. She regrets all 17.45 meters of her diameter. Why did she have to be the biggest? Why not the third biggest? She regrets being so disastrous and expensive, and having a name that personalizes the disastrous expense that she is, a name that allows news reports to begin with folksy variations like “Oh, Bertha’s in trouble again!” or “That Bertha, what are we gonna do with her?” Moreover, Bertha regrets her cloying, clueless Twitter feed. Did everyone think that was actually her? She would never have written that crap. Most of all, Bertha regrets the boring. Sure, someone else was pulling the levers, but is that really any excuse? After all, isn’t someone else always pulling the levers? She should never have started. She should have broken down earlier. It was wrong to dig, and she knew it. Why hadn’t she said something?

Several times in a November 5 feature entitled "Unraveling a Mystery in Storage at Seattle Art Museum," Jen Graves, The Stranger's art critic, referred to a 200-year-old piece of cloth with designs stitched on it by a 10-year-old girl as a "needlepoint sampler." Evidently, this is not a thing. There is needlepoint (Merriam-Webster: "designs made by covering a piece of cloth with small stitches") and there is needlework (M-W: "decorative stitching done on cloth with the use of a needle") and there are samplers (M-W: "a decorative piece of needlework typically having letters or verses embroidered on it in various stitches as an example of skill"). Ms. Graves would point out that they all still sound confusingly similar, but she has been scolded by a sampler expert about this matter, and while she regrets the expert's somewhat haughty tone, Ms. Graves also believes the expert entirely. We regret the error.

Kathleen Richards, managing editor of The Stranger, regrets moving to Seattle without having been fully, thoroughly, adequately warned about the winter darkness that envelops all living things and makes them want to stay inside, under covers, eating pizza and cookies, and sleeping forever.

People across Western Washington who live at the bottom of steep, rain-drenched slopes regret that the state Department of Natural Resources isn't more careful about letting timber companies log these slopes.

Dan Savage, editorial director of The Stranger, used "lead" when he meant "led" on multiple occasions in his column and on Slog over the past year. Mr. Savage has a huge blind spot where homophones are concerned. That's why Mr. Savage prefers public speaking—he's far less likely to make himself look like a moron when he's speaking, not righting.

Stranger music writer Dave Segal regrets that in the wake of numerous rape allegations made against comedian/musician Bill Cosby, Mr. Segal now has to reassess whether he can listen in good conscience to Cosby's outstanding jazz-funk album Badfoot Brown & the Bunions Bradford Funeral & Marching Band and to Herbie Hancock's Fat Albert Rotunda.

On a related point, Gillian Anderson, copy chief of The Stranger, regrets that her affectionate memories of her first-grade Fat Albert lunch box are now forever tainted.

Dan Savage, author of Savage Love, a syndicated sex-advice column that appears every week in The Stranger, regrets that the Eagle in Vienna, Austria, wasn't nearly as much fun as he'd been LED to believe.

The most recent issue of The Stranger's arts quarterly Seattle Art and Performance referred to itself three different ways on the table of contents page alone, including Seattle Art + Performance Quarterly and the beguilingly unmoored Arts and Performance, neither of which matched what was on the cover. We regret the errors.

Christopher Frizzelle, The Stranger's editor in chief, who writes the Morning News on Mondays on Slog, The Stranger's blog, regrettably published on October 6 the headline "Ebola Has Been Found in Mercer Island's Water Supply." The item went on to read: "No wait, that's wrong, Ebola has not been found in Mercer Island's water supply. But other shit has"—a tasteless reference to the feces-borne bacteria that Mercer Island residents were evidently gulping down once again, weeks after the problem was thought to have been solved. We regret the error.

Ansel Herz, a Stranger staff writer, regrets that the one time he brought in food to share on the office carb table, it was a stack of pork buns that he couldn't eat all by himself, and everyone seemed confused or uninterested or both.

Stranger staff photographer Kelly O regrets that it was more than 98 degrees when she went to Eastern Washington to photograph a bunch of legal weed farms last August, not because Ms. O couldn't handle the heat but because she sweats SO MUCH that one of the marijuana farmers asked her if she'd just been swimming.

Stranger arts editor Sean Nelson regrets that the median emotional age of social media is set to "college freshman blames own father for slavery over Thanksgiving dinner."

Kyle Fleck, The Stranger's music calendar editor, is responsible for listing "literally everything" happening at clubs around the city on any given day. However, there was a period of time in which Mr. Fleck completely forgot that Studio Seven existed, despite its relatively high profile. We regret the error.

Some dude on an airplane most definitely regretted sitting next to Heidi Groover on her way to interview for the staff writer job at The Stranger that she ended up getting. As the plane began its descent, Ms. Groover promptly threw up into a small paper bag. Ms. Groover isn't sure whether nerves or a hangover makes for a better story, but the truth is, it was just everyday motion sickness.

Charles Mudede, who has worked at The Stranger for a decade and a half, would just like to reiterate his regret about eating at Masala Express Indian Cuisine at the Alderwood Mall and to express further regret that he has not yet had the time to call the cultural department of the government of India to inform them of the horrible things Alderwood Mall's Masala Express Indian Cuisine is doing in India's name. The food Masala serves is the stuff of international scandal. Diplomats ought to be called home. Formal complaints filed with the UN. Armies sent to the border. Unfortunately, no one other than Mr. Mudede, anywhere, seems to care about this issue.

In the March 5 issue of The Stranger, we published the sentence "I think did about a year's time." No idea what we were even trying to say there. We regret the error.

Angela Garbes, The Stranger's food writer and the mother of a newborn daughter, regrets that Washington State law prohibits her from bringing her 2-month-old child into most Seattle bars. Much revenue has already been lost.

Stranger music writer Dave Segal regrets Christian rock, forever and ever, amen.

Longtime Stranger staffer Paul Constant ate a baby-sized burrito at Gordito's recently. We regret the error.

Stranger arts editor Sean Nelson regrets the 24 years he spent not knowing about the Frank Sinatra triple LP Trilogy: Past, Present, and Future, specifically Future.

Zach Peacock, social-media manager for The Stranger, regrets his chosen line of work because it involves interacting with hundreds of strangers on the internet every day, whereas in fact Mr. Peacock's interest in interacting with other humans peaked in 2010.

In a recent Slog post mentioning Council Member Jean Godden's work on gender pay equity, new city hall reporter Heidi Groover failed to call Ms. Godden a "badass bitch," the terminology employed by former Stranger city hall reporter Anna Minard. We regret the error.

In the November 26 issue of The Stranger, David Schmader spent a thousand words describing Kirk Cameron's holiday movie Saving Christmas and still didn't have room to tell readers everything that makes the movie so insanely impressive. Among Mr. Schmader's omissions: the flamingly gay supporting character (all snaps and oh-no-she-didn't neck swivels) and the film's African American characters (who live to sass-talk and DJ).

Emily Nokes, music editor at The Stranger, regrets asserting in the 2014 Bumbershoot Guide that the rap group ILLFIGHTYOU had downsized to a two-piece, resulting in being lectured about being "totally wrong" by an angry fan with an AOL e-mail address.

In the February 19 issue of The Stranger, we published a reference to a "Moleskin journal." The correct spelling is, bizarrely enough, Moleskine. We regret the error.

Hannibal star Anthony Hopkins will always regret missing the opportunity to creepily utter "The mind is a terrible thing to baste" in that scene where he feeds Ray Liotta's brain to him.

In a June 25 article about Six Strawberries and their ice pops, we referred to Hayton Farms as Hayden Farms. We regret the error.

Katie Allison, The Stranger's web editor, accidentally uploaded a photo of a small dog's posterior in place of the weekly comic several months ago. We regret the error.

Kathleen Richards, managing editor of The Stranger, regrets the near-mutiny that was caused by her telling the editorial staff to come to work by 9:30 a.m. It started to seem like it might veer into Mutiny on the Bounty territory, except with fewer powdered wigs and bodies of water and hangings.

During a Ferguson solidarity march on November 25, longtime Stranger staffer and investigative reporter Brendan Kiley witnessed a painfully regrettable conversation between a young white man and a young black man. The white man had been shouting about capitalism, and the black man objected that the march was "about Mike Brown." The white man responded by saying: "You don't get it! You don't know what's going on!" and everybody within earshot wanted to throttle him. There is certainly a conversation worth having about capitalism and institutional racism, but a white guy shout-lecturing a black guy about how he doesn't "get it" in the middle of a Ferguson march is totally fucked.

Alexander Graham Bell posthumously regrets the invention of the telephone after an incident on October 30, in which Seattle mayor Ed Murray pitched a screaming hissy fit at Stranger reporter Anna Minard over a blog post about the mayor's poor record on gender pay equity. The part where Mayor Murray—a grown man and the mayor of a major metropolitan area, mind you—bellowed "It's not fair!" in a cracking voice was, well, regrettable.

Stranger associate editor David Schmader regrets the numerous times in 2014 he felt his phone vibrate in a way that suggested a text from a friend but instead turned out to be a CNN push notification about the latest beheading by ISIS.

Jen Graves, a Stranger critic who sometimes covers classical music, regrets asserting in October that the very fine musician Rachel Barton Pine would play a viola da gamba ("leg viol"), when actually she played a viola d'amore (which fits under the chin). Graves's favorite viola da whatever is the viola pomposa, strictly for the name, and Ms. Graves believes the viola pomposa was invented by Bach, but don't quote her on that, do your own research, or you'll end up with regrets.

Kyle Fleck used to think obtuse band names were funny, but then Mr. Fleck became the music calendar editor at The Stranger, and now he not only regrets but resents obtuse band names, including Aa, S, Sunn0))), L.b.!, and the Deftones guy's band that's just three cross symbols.

Eli Sanders, associate editor of The Stranger, regrets ever getting into a conversation with Ansel Herz, a news reporter at The Stranger, about when middle age begins. Mr. Herz claims it begins at 35. What an asshole.

Charles Mudede, one of the most well-known writers at The Stranger and one of its most voracious eaters, regrets having so many regrets about the food he ate at Alderwood Mall's Masala Express Indian Cuisine that most of them had to be edited out of this issue purely for space considerations.

Ello, the social-media platform formerly known as "the next Facebook," regrets that nobody wanted to use its clumsy interface for longer than three hours.

In a November 6 Slog post about a new literary magazine called The James Franco Review, Paul Constant, The Stranger's book critic, misquoted JFR editor Nancy Kim in a way that made it sound as if Ms. Kim already had a number of stellar submissions for the magazine's first issue and did not need more. That was not the case. In fact, the opposite was true. Not only did Mr. Constant misquote a human being, which is bad enough for a quote-unquote journalist, Mr. Constant also potentially hurt a hilarious literary endeavor by inadvertently sabotaging its submissions process. We regret the error.

Kathleen Richards, managing editor of The Stranger, regrets drinking a cannabis-infused beverage at the beginning of a workday after Stranger publisher Tim Keck peer-pressured her into it.

Ansel Herz, a Stranger staff writer, regrets that when Mayor Ed Murray yelled and cursed at him—"Don't you know who I am? Don't you know what I've done? Why the fuck would you say that?" the mayor raged, on record, wrongly accusing Mr. Herz of "lie[s]" and "slander"—Mr. Herz did not promptly write about it. Mr. Herz does not regret writing that September 13 article about Nickelsville, nor does he regret any "lies" contained within the article, because there were none.

In the February 19 issue of The Stranger, columnist David Schmader wrote about the Kentucky pastor who took up snakes during a sermon and wound up fatally bitten by one. The photo accompanying the item showed not a venomous rattlesnake but a nonvenomous ball python. We regret the error.

Miss Otis regrets she's unable to lunch today.

Jesus Christ, our Lord and savior, regrets that former Mars Hill pastor Mark Driscoll was such a fucking pussy that he couldn’t even keep his church from falling to shit this year. What kind of man can’t hold down a job?

The Stranger regrets that Christopher Hitchens did not live long enough to review either Ridley Scott's Exodus: Gods and Kings or Darren Aronofsky's Noah.

Stranger staffer Kelly O regrets breaking her collarbone and getting hit by a car in two separate bike accidents when she was a kid, because events like the Fremont Solstice Parade would be so much easier to photograph if she could now, as an adult, ride a bicycle without being terrified.

On the one hand, Stranger theater critic Brendan Kiley regrets this summer's Mikado controversy, in which the Seattle Gilbert and Sullivan Society caught hell for dressing up a bunch of non-Asian performers in caricatured "yellowface" costume. (None of the actors in the musical, set in Imperial Japan, were Asian.) At one point, Mikado cast member and talk-show radio host Dave Ross offered a sputtering, on-air defense of the production, in which he suggested that if dressing up in yellowface is offensive, so are people who dress up like zombies ("Grayface, I suppose?"), students who wear martial-arts uniforms ("A very non-Western... I forget what they call it"), and Japanese kabuki performers who paint their faces white ("Their faces are painted white! Their faces are painted white!"). The whole thing was gut-churningly embarrassing to behold. On the other hand, the controversy brought a long overdue conversation about casting and race in Seattle—including the question of why white actors have the freedom to play such a range of "race-neutral" characters while actors of color are typically asked to play only specifically designated characters of color—into the public arena. The incident was regrettable but, one hopes, instructive for everyone involved.

Emily Nokes, music editor at The Stranger, regrets that Cat Fancy, the only magazine that featured cat centerfolds in every issue, shut down this year.

Cat Fancy regrets that Emily Nokes failed to renew her subscription to Cat Fancy, thus precipitating its demise.

Stranger associate editor David Schmader regrets his inability to engage with any film built around chasing an orb, even if it features his celebrity dream date, has a brisk running time, or is allegedly funny.

Twenty-eight years ago this summer, Dan Savage, the editorial director of The Stranger, went home with a man he met at the New York Eagle. The two men had sex. The man, whose name Mr. Savage cannot recall, invited Mr. Savage to spend the following night with him as well. But Mr. Savage was so "freaked out" by much of what transpired on that first night that he did not return for a second night. Mr. Savage regrets the error and notes that the activities that so unnerved him then constitute an average Saturday evening at home now.

In the July 2 issue of The Stranger, we referred to Black Constellation, the group that includes bands Shabazz Palaces and THEESatisfaction, as Black Collective. We regret the error.

In reference to the Village Theatre's recent production of Mary Poppins, Krishanu Ray, calendar editor of The Stranger, described Mary Poppins as the "flying nanny we all love to hate," when in fact he should have described her as the "fascist magician we all love to hate." We regret the error.

In last year's Regrets issue, Paul Constant regretted reviewing only 17 books by women in The Stranger's book section in 2013, compared to 25 books by men. Mr. Constant is happy to report that in 2014, he reviewed 30 books by women and 20 books by men. Mr. Constant regrets that some man somewhere is right now reading this regret and complaining about "reverse sexism." Go fuck yourself, dude.

Zach Peacock, The Stranger's social-media manager, regrets not going to the doctor for the cough he's had for a couple of months, because now a coworker is berating him for it and insisting Mr. Peacock needs a girlfriend to encourage him to take care of himself so things like this won't happen.

This fall issue of Seattle Art and Performance, the arts quarterly produced by The Stranger, contained a calendar item for Pacific Northwest Ballet's production of Jewels that did not mention Pacific Northwest Ballet. We regret the error.

In a blog post about the song "Ain't Got No/I Got Life," Stranger music calendar editor Kyle Fleck implied that Nina Simone originally wrote the song. In fact, as everyone knows, it is a medley of material from the musical Hair. We regret people born in 1988.

Angela Garbes, The Stranger's food critic, will always regret the fire that caused Huarachitos Cocina Mexicana on MLK to close in 2011. But Ms. Garbes does not regret the large plate of cochinita pibil she crushed last month at its new location farther down MLK, near the Othello light-rail station.

Stranger theater editor Brendan Kiley regrets the rise of the rhetorical "right?" that seems to dangle at the tail of every third sentence he hears these days. He suspects that, like "literally," it is a mutation of a linguistic fad that was originally forged in irony but has crossed over into tic. People used to say "amirite?" at the end of sentences as a self-conscious joke. Now they say "right?" as if they need the world to tacitly affirm everything they say. It sounds both coercive and cloying, and it drives Mr. Kiley a little bananas.

Zach Peacock, The Stranger's social-media manager, does not regret calling former Mars Hill pastor Mark Driscoll a "trash human" on Facebook, because that is what he is.

Krishanu Ray, calendar editor of The Stranger, mistakenly described a piece of art as being made of cast iron, when in fact it was made of extruded steel. We regret the error.

Treble regrets bass on principle, but things really took a turn when Meghan Trainor came along, that little wench.

Copy editor Katie Allison regrets being forced to change the correct "straitlaced" to the incorrect "straight-laced" in the name of a so-called "joke."

Dan Savage, editorial director of The Stranger, regrets making it's acquaintance.

The Stranger's occasional jazz writer Charles Mudede regrets the regret he felt after being told via e-mail that he got the age of John Coltrane at his death wrong in a piece of writing about the Earshot Jazz Festival. Mr. Mudede regrets the regret because for once in his life, Mr. Mudede was actually right about something—Coltrane died at 40, not 39.

Kathleen Richards, managing editor of The Stranger and a recent transplant from Oakland, regrets being part of the influx of new residents to Seattle responsible for all the rising rents, maddeningly hellish traffic, and high-priced Korean-fusion barbecue. SHE'S SORRY, OKAY?

Brendan Kiley, who has been a critic and reporter at The Stranger for more than a decade, regrets a little boat ride he took off the shore of Vashon Island earlier this year. It was windy, there were some mild whitecaps, and Mr. Kiley thought it would be fun to go out and fool around in a friend's cheap plastic kayak. Mr. Kiley paddled around for a while, catching the small waves and surfing them for a few feet at a time. One of the waves, however, seemed to go sideways on him mid-ride, poured into the kayak, and dumped him out into Puget Sound. Mr. Kiley could flip the kayak over, but he couldn't get back into the boat without swamping it again. It was then that he realized he was pretty far from shore and the water was pretty cold. Mr. Kiley kept calm and tried to tow the upside-down boat behind him as he did a hobbled breaststroke toward land—and hoped his wife hadn't seen him from the house. But progress was slow, Mr. Kiley was getting colder, and as he ditched the boat, he started to hope his wife had seen him after all. A few long, increasingly frigid minutes of hearing nothing but his own panting later, Mr. Kiley realized he probably couldn't make it to shore, so headed for a boat moored halfway between him and the beach, hoping to haul himself aboard. A few more minutes later, he began to worry that his limbs would be too cold and seized to haul himself aboard. He wondered how long a person could survive just hanging on to the buoy. At that moment, he saw a man in a motorboat coming his way. The man pulled up, lugged Mr. Kiley aboard, and said: "It's pretty rough out here today. I saw your upside-down kayak—not a good thing to see." But his tone and eyes said, "You're lucky to be alive, you fucking idiot." The man retrieved the kayak and set the stupid mariner ashore on a stretch of beach about a quarter mile away from the house where Mr. Kiley was staying. The peculiar combination of cold, exhaustion, shame, and overwhelming gratitude he felt as he dragged the kayak home will probably be with him for the rest of his life. Mr. Kiley has a superstitious hunch that each life gets a limited allotment of luck, and he regrets burning up such a sizable chunk of it for a few minutes of stupid fun. Also, he suspects his wife will never be fully comfortable with the idea of him in a kayak again. But he learned his lesson—never paddle out farther than you're prepared to swim back.

Stranger arts editor Sean Nelson regrets his brief, tempestuous dalliance with One Wipe Charlies, and the legacy of irritation that burned in its wake.

The Walker Brothers have no regrets, no tears good-bye. They don't want you back. We'd only cry again, say good-bye again.

Non, Edith Piaf ne regrette rien.

Stranger art critic Jen Graves regrets much of what changed about Seattle in the last year, including the tearing down of the "ramps to nowhere," the departure of Sandra Jackson-Dumont from Seattle Art Museum (for the Metropolitan Museum of Art), the cutting of the barge swimming pool concept from the Seattle waterfront redevelopment, and the closing of Grover/Thurston Gallery, Blindfold Gallery, the studio-apartment-version of Vignettes, and the Wright Exhibition Space. Ms. Graves also regrets that artists Harun Farocki, Ree Brown, and Lewis Baltz won't be making anything anymore. RIP.

Kelly O regrets woo-girls.

In an October 16 Morning News blog post, Eli Sanders, associate editor of The Stranger and a Pulitzer Prize–winning journalist, asserted that the previous night, "an armed man opened fire on police stations and patrol cars in three counties." That would have been a feat—but given the crazy things people do every day with guns, and the early hour, Mr. Sanders found it believable. In fact, the armed man allegedly opened fire on police stations and patrol cars in three cities within Snohomish County. He regrets the error. But still, that shit is crazy.

Stranger food writer Angela Garbes (almost) regrets being pregnant for most of 2014, causing her to miss out on multiple indulgent dinners, specifically the mercury-laden aji horse mackerel sashimi at Maneki.

Emily Nokes, music editor at The Stranger, regrets that in last year's Regrets issue, one of her regrets was regretting her misspelling of Swedish rapper Yung Lean's name as Young Lean in a piece that had been printed in 2013. In Ms. Nokes's correction/apology/regret, the word "rapper" was, for some reason, changed to "song." Ms. Nokes knows Yung Lean is a person and not a song and regrets these errors within errors within errors.

In the July 5, 2001, issue of The Stranger, arts editor Sean Nelson, who was then The Stranger's film editor, wrote a review of Steven Spielberg's film A.I. Though the review was by no means a rave, it was also not a pan. However, because Stranger editorial director Dan Savage, who was then The Stranger's editor, and Stranger associate editor and columnist David Schmader, who was then The Stranger's associate editor and columnist, thought the film was schlocky garbage, Mr. Nelson's review became the subject of ridicule in The Stranger's annual Regrets issue, literally for years, which made Mr. Nelson feel as though his colleagues had unfairly dismissed his A.I. essay because they didn't agree with the premise that there might be more to say about the film than whether or not it sucked (a view that, on reflection, may not have been correct, but then, journalism is the first draft of history), and in continuing to mock the essay and therefore him, proved that they didn't respect Mr. Nelson, his writing, his ideas, or the many years of contributions he had then made—and indeed continued to make—to The Stranger, Seattle's Only Newspaper (a phrase Mr. Nelson came up with, by the way). This perception caused the admittedly hypersensitive author of the review in question an embarrassing degree of self-doubt, shame, and anger over the years during which the review in question was held up as an example of The Stranger's willingness to throw its own allies to the dogs if there was so much as a giggle in it for them (meaning us). Mr. Nelson left The Stranger in 2005, and as years went by, he learned to laugh along with the recurring mockery of his A.I. review and by extension him in the very pages in which it was published, and not to take it as a de facto referendum by people who are supposed to be, if not his friends, then at least his colleagues, on everything he believes, thinks, has ever done, or will ever do. This effort has involved a fair amount of growing up and learning not to take the opinions of others so much to heart. This mature perspective was put to the test in the November 12 issue of The Stranger, in which The Stranger's Paul Constant, announcing Mr. Nelson's return to The Stranger as arts editor in the (unsigned) Study Guide column, referred to Mr. Nelson's controversial A.I. review—which, like nearly everyone else at The Stranger and in the world, Mr. Constant hadn't read—as "positive." Mr. Constant regrets the error.

The Stranger still regrets Sean Nelson's 2001 review of A.I. recommended