where the writers are
I Did Not Have Sexual Relations with That Jar of Peanut Butter
Peanut Butter

First of all, let me say that I am not resigning from office.

Secondly, there is a perfectly logical explanation for those photos.

But I am not here to deny things. I am here to deny things, and then come clean and propose a plan for the future.

I want to begin by saying that I have made mistakes. The remorse I feel will always be with me. I should not have kept the incident with the Argentinean stripper and the jar of peanut butter in the Four Seasons Hotel lobby to myself. I should have told my family and my friends about it. But honestly—really, this time, honestly—I wasn’t eager to share my lapses with those closest to me, because I didn’t want to hurt them. (The total strangers I sent all those texts to are another matter.)

I have let my constituents down, and for that I am deeply sorry. Also, God, I want to be clear that I know I have sinned against you. I owe you big time. Oh yeah, and my wife, too.

I don’t want to ever be caught in this position again—not to mention that position the other night in the airport bathroom with the sequined clown costume.

So how do we move forward? Where do we go from here?

Today I am announcing that I have officially hired a doppelganger to handle those little “appetites” of mine that recently become so embarrassingly public. This doppelganger—let’s call him Herbert—will act the more frivolous and obsessive desires of my subconscious while I focus on the things that matter most to me: work, faith, family, and charitable acts. So, while Herbert walks into the Opera wearing nothing but a top hat, knee-high white socks, and black patent leather shoes, I will be at home working and reading scripture with Kathi. Kathi is my wife, by the way.

Henceforth, when you see someone who looks like me doing something really absurd, like painting himself bright orange and jogging down Market Street with a toy light saber in his hand, you can assume it’s Herbert you are seeing.

“There goes Herbert, again!” we can all say, trusting that I, Sam Barry, the future mayor of San Francisco, am chortling along with you at Herbert’s zany escapades. It can even become a saying: “He’s pulling a Herbert!” we’ll all say, laughing heartily. And rest assured that in the interest of public safety I will make appropriate arrangements with the police: should Herbert’s behavior get out of hand or should he seem to be in danger, they will quietly pick him up and drop him at my office, where he can search the Internet for some new friends.

Comments
2 Comment count
Comment Bubble Tip

I loved this blog, Sam!!!

But tell me Sam, do private parts look different on the Internet???
What about a cell phone? I know that it would be off to confession for me if such pictures appeared on my Itouch and I touched. You have a great sense of humor >>> I love your blogs!

Have a great day!

Mary Walsh

Comment Bubble Tip

Thanks!

Thanks, Mary!