They make us write these regrets columns every year about things we allegedly regret, and I always just front and talk trash like, "Ha! Regrets are for suckers... FACE!" and then peel away in my hip tricked-out convertible roadster while knocking over Old Man Huckleberry's corner fruit stand and flipping everybody the bird ("You whippersnapper," he hollers!). But honestly? I'm such a big fucking liar. I regret fucking everything. Every goddamn thing! Every little thing I've ever said, ever done, or ever thought about doing, and everything I didn't say or do, and everything else, too. It's pathetic. I just want to die about it. OH, HOW I WISH I WERE DEAD! DAMN YOU, REGRET! DAMN YOU FOR KILLING ME WITH SUICIDE!

I'm totally shitting you. JE NE REGRETTE RIEN, suckers! (Ha!)

But whatever. I'll play their little game. I REGRET THINGS! OH, BOO-HOO-HOO, okay? They include things that other people did, and things I think other people should regret they did, and may or may not include things that happened a long time ago, more recently, in the future maybe, and only in my head. And so let it begin.

I deeply regret "corporate personhood" and all Republicans—but you knew that. I regret that I'm a TOTAL PSYCHO MAGNET also, and that there are JUST SO MANY FLIPPIN' PYSCHOS FOR ME TO MAGNETIZE. (Vote for public mental health services, people—I beg you!) I regret that one or two people are big turds in the punch bowl that is life (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE), and stealing that dude's dog. I really regret unmanageable hair (all my life), and stealing that wine from QFC that time and being all like, "DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?" I regret having WAY TOO MUCH SEX ALL THE TIME and not calling my mom more to not tell her about all the sex. I regret not saying, "MERRY XMESS/HOLIDAYS, BIG GAY SEATTLE, I LOVE YOU!" and writing a regrets column instead. OH THE REGRET! I CAN'T STAND IT!

Suckers. (Ha!)