Now that the euphoria commensurate with my newfound (and, no doubt, fleeting) celebrity has dissipated just a bit, I’d like to take a moment to discuss my recent appearances on the Maury show. Viewers of my first segment, which aired on 2 December, will no doubt have noted the forceful certainty with which I defended my conviction that my gentleman friend at the time, Rebel, was in fact the biological father of my infant daughter DeRebelle. Several of my statements alluded to what I then considered to be the scientific impossibility of an unexpected outcome to the paternity test results we were to receive later in the episode. Indeed, you might recall me being restrained by several security personnel while loudly suggesting that Rebel ought to “step the fuck up.”
Well, emotions were certainly raw. Although I was, to be completely fair, responding to repeated, malicious (and altogether false) accusations of being an “overstuffed ho bag” and a “soggy meatball sub with melted ho cheese,” I do regret my contributions to the heated temperature of our conversation. And it goes without saying that I deeply regret the heel of my shoe allegedly being used to forcefully disengage the chain connecting Rebel’s earring with his nose piercing. Pending court action dictates that I say no more about this unfortunate outburst of violence, except to reiterate my dismay at it allegedly having occurred. More importantly, however, I’d like to dispel the mistaken (although certainly understandable) assumption that my insistence on Rebel’s paternity somehow masked an attempt at willful deception on my part.
I’ll be the first to admit: I’ve got some egg on my face. Francis Bacon once remarked that “a man who begins with certainties will end in doubts.” Lesson learned. Surely I wasn’t helping matters when on my next Maury appearance, which aired 4 December, I asked that paternity tests be conducted on no fewer than six gentlemen. Mea culpa. But now that I’ve got out my Bartlett’s, I must plead for a bit of indulgence by way of Nietzsche: “‘I have done that,’ says my memory. ‘I cannot have done that’—says my pride, and remains adamant. At last—memory yields.”
While my lapse in recollection may be understandable to many (and to some of you, if I may, perhaps even familiar), my intemperate conduct on our segment that day was regrettable by any measure—and I would like to apologize, not only to Maury and his viewers, but also to Opie, Bryanique, Diamond Mouth, Mookie, Kevin B., and Kevin S. It’s not that my behavior was unprovoked. To the contrary, few among us have been challenged to maintain a civil standard of discourse while being called a “wrinkly wet garbage bag full of ho,” a “dirty napkin covered in ho sauce,” and a “ho loaf,” all on syndicated television. It was a difficult test, to be sure—but it was one that I failed all the same.
I hope that the viewing audience will accept these humble words as they’re intended, and honor me with at least a small measure of their understanding and forgiveness as I plan the conduct of additional paternity tests on future episodes of Maury. I know I’ll better acquit myself during my next appearance. I think that Maury believes I can. I hope you will too.