We Regret These Errors

We Regret These Errors

Sorrowful Remorse

From the Desk of the Enumclaw Horse

From the Desk of Katie Holmes's Fetus

From the Desk of Former Monorail Director Joel Horn

Dept. of Corrections

I Regret Not Killing Benjamin Colton Barnes Before He Got to That Park Ranger

I Regret Those Girls in Roslyn

I Regret Republicans Giving Me a Bad Name

I Regret That Señor Romney Lost the Election

We Regret These Errors.

We Regret These Erors

From the Desk of Michael Jackson

I Regret Being Consigned to Eternal Damnation with the Guy Who Drew The Family Circus

I Regret Not Taking Out Lance Armstrong

We Regret Mentioning Suicide, Publishing Essays about Suicide, and Placing Visual Depictions of Suicide on Our Cover

I Regret Nothing

From the Desk of J. Edgar Hoover

We Wish to Announce Several Regrets (We Wish to Announce Several Regrets)

What You Think About When You Think About Chile

I Regret What's Happening to This City

That Sculpture Is a Stain on Our Reputation

I Regret Not Being Considered Food and Offer, for Your Enjoyment, This Recipe

A Guide to the Jokes in This Issue for the Staff of Gawker

Please Allow Me to Set the Record Straight

I Regret Rehab

I Regret that Pit Bulls Find My Face So Delicious

I Regret Killing All-Ages Music

We Regret We’re So Dumb

When The Stranger asked me if I had any regrets, I first said no. I'm happy with the year. I played a big role in the Arab Spring and even Occupy Wall Street. How could I complain? I'm not just entertaining; I'm socially useful. But The Stranger is so damn persistent. They kept bugging me for just one eeny-teeny regret. Finally I relented, gave it some thought, and found that something kind of regrettable did happen this year.

You know that cat Macklemore, the ever-popular Seattle rapper? Well, sometime around May, he stopped writing real tweets and started posting all about his shows. I'm mean, it's cool to use me to get up in this world; I ain't going to put you down for that. But Macklemore's self-promotion takes boring to a new level. He tweets on and on about the last tickets remaining to his shows, thanking people who sold out his shows, thanking people for cheering him at his shows, thanking people for loving him so much at his shows, and on and on. Man, I remember the days when we would learn a thing or two about how the Mac was really living. You know what I mean? We'd get tweets about what socks he's wearing or where he just ate on the Ave. Now all we get is: "Only 20 tickets left to our show at The Higher Ground in Vermont...... get on dat." Or: "Chapel Hill, NC you would have made Michael Jordan and Petey Pablo proud last night! Thank you all for coming out! #SoldOut." Or: "This is going down right now... #Boston #soldout #paradise." Mac, come on. Give us the old Mac back. That's all I'm saying. Peace. recommended