A note to Gingers

I'm so sorry.

I suppose I should explain that I am only sorry to about 90% of you. Life has been hard on you. It's going to continue to BE hard on you, but hey.. don't curse God. I mean why bother? Your existence and the life you are forced to lead KINDA proves he doesn’t exist, or at least that he/she doesn't care about you.

To catch the non-RonMcDons up, Raggedy Anne & Andy tend to be flecked with little freckles, all which must be somehow committed to memory in case a new one should appear. I imagine it must be like staring at the beach and noticing a new grain of sand, or picking out a middle-aged divorcee in the staff room at WalMart.

Did I mention the beach? Sorry Rusty, no beach for you. Chances are you skin will burst into immediate flames, consuming you, your clothes and your loved ones in a violent flash of dermal destruction. Luckily as an amber your loved ones will consist mostly of your family (who made you what you are) and people who routinely call you mean names like Bush-Fire, Agent Orange and Lil Orphan Annie.

It's also a fairly well accepted fact that Match-heads have a 10% chance of being drop jaw beautiful and a 90% chance of being hideous. This rule only applies to women, by the way. If you are a male redwood... your best bet is to become Hindu and better off next life.

So it is with sympathy and compassion that I offer this heartfelt apology to what life has and will deliver to you as a Rusty Rooster.

And for the remaining 10% of Jessica Rabbit style redheads, remember every day is a blessing... at least until you hit 32.