I want to thank you all for overlooking my unfortunate addictive behavior. I know it's been hard on everyone, and for this I sincerely apologize. I now know that I am, and will forever be, a sex addict. It's a terrible burden that so many very attractive women are receptive to my magnetic, animalistic and savage masculinity. I have no excuses. It's wrong of me to take advantage of the poor creatures who become enraptured by my laser-like stare, and then spontaneously tear off their clothes -- a sound I hear in my nightmares now -- while whimpering little puppy noises as they drag their manicured nails up and down my back as I defile them behind the Xerox machine. It is something I am deeply ashamed of, and I'm sorry.

I owe my apologies not only to those poor women who I have taken advantage of, but also to their husbands and family members. In one particularly regrettable incident, I needlessly and callously allowed a colleague of mine to debase herself when she cornered me in the mailroom during a working lunch. Then I compounded my guilt when her young summer-intern daughter fell victim to my inappropriateness just as I was leaving for the day. I owe her a special apology, because the tattoo she insisted I inscribe on her wildly undulating buttocks with a Bic pen and a paperclip was not my real name.

Stephen Kling is a grizzled veteran of the advertising wars...read more

I've tried to fight my addictions, but I am only human, and I have failed repeatedly. I want to apologize to all my fellow members of Alcoholics Synonymous for my unintentional backsliding. While most of the several hundred people who attended my Memorial Day Beer Bash seemed to be having a good time, and even though Father Montoni has not been seen since climbing behind the wheel of Mr. Feldman's BMW 7 series with Audrey Weinsacker, a mother of four who looked truly stunning wrapped in that turban and nothing else, I know I deeply disappointed my closest friends once again, and for this I can never be forgiven. Nor do I expect them to, not after they hoisted me upon their shoulders and danced the Conga so uninhibitedly until dawn. For the destruction of my neighbor Mr. Finley's lawn and irrigation system, I also apologize. I never realized the destructive effects of so many high-heeled shoes stomping rhythmically to the beat. It is a performance I will not repeat, and I am deeply ashamed.

As far as my workaholism, and my addiction to earning prodigiously large amounts of money, I want to apologize for that, too. I have repeatedly -- and I say this with the utmost shame and humility -- bamboozled and frustrated many less talented Wall Street financiers with my superior skills, and I have materially benefited as a result. For this, I owe many people an apology. To make amends, I have donated 10% of my last year's earnings to a foundation that will bear my name, just to remind me-and the wider world-of my inexcusably bad behavior.

Lastly, and most painfully, I want to beg everyone's forgiveness for my unfortunate delusion that I am a saint, or other important religious figure. It was neither my right nor place to forgive the sins of others, when my own sins were so egregious and easy for all to see. It was improper of me to encourage Mrs. Sackowitz to rise from her wheelchair and walk for the first time in thirty years; her children were justified in their anger when she left the house without telling them and walked around the neighborhood for an hour. Likewise, Mr. Sackowitz's advanced prostate cancer was not something I should have involved myself in; his doctors were correct to be offended, and I beg their understanding at my inappropriateness. Mr. Sackowitz's subsequent fathering of triplets with their young housekeeper, Matilda O'Flynn, and the ensuing breakup of his marriage, is properly laid at my doorstep, too. I see now that Mrs. Sackowitz's affair with fellow marathoner Ubi Obawa was also an entirely understandable reaction, and I wish them well in their new matrimonial union.

I apologize to you all, and grant you the gift of eternal life -- damn, that just slipped out, and I'm very, very sorry again....read more blogs