When I first read this, I read it wrong. I read it as, "I try to convince people that I'm perfect, so it's not hard to admit when I'm wrong." The opposite of what you wrote. I couldn't make sense of it. Makes me wonder how many times I've been wrong because I have read something incorrectly. Knowutimsayn?

What sorts of things have you been wrong about? You come off as... really nice and level-headed.

It must really anger you to admit that you were wrong. Whatever works, though.

Since our first date, babe.

To be fair I had just gotten through reading the million words you typed about a ****ing dog.

Once, I thought I was wrong.

I was mistaken.

Something I've just never had to worry about.

What does it feel like to be wrong about something ?

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"I understand."

Was there supposed to be a question mark at the end of that? Or am I wrong?

It feels terrible. Very embarrassing. Sometimes guilt-provoking if you were disrespectful towards someone while being wrong.

I get it, I think. You were wrong for once thinking you were wrong. :) That's pretty funny.

No?

I was just answering your question.

Do you remember the first time you freaked out on me?

Because I called you an extrovert.

Serious stuff.

I just admit it and move on.

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I didn't read all that but if I'm wrong I usually say... I was wrong :shrug: and Yes, if I'm wrong I own it

I was a bit bully-ish to a couple people in high school. My targets were kind of weird ones, for they were dudes that didn't get made fun of much, but had pissed me off somehow by mouthing off or something. With a couple kids, I pushed it way too far. The guy who was JV behind me in wrestling my Senior year mouthed off to me in practice one time when he was dogging it and I told him to get his ass going, so we didn't have to run extra sprints. He simply told me to **** myself. I proceeded to make his life a living hell in practice and in study hall for the remainder of the year...teased the shit out of him in front of anyone. Or study hall teacher who had a reputation at our school for being a hard-ass, stickler prick even heard it... and let it go on, presumably because some of the shit I would come up with would make him visibly have a difficult time trying to keep himself from laughing...to the point where he'd find an excuse to leave the room.

Was just a total prick to these people. Pushed it wayyyy too far. It got to the point with the mouthy JV guy, where I created a freaking website that ranked and awarded the state of Iowa's wrestler with the best body voted by the cheerleaders...I made up a bunch of names and plugged him, our JV 152 pounder with horrible body acne as the winner. I wrote a blurb on there about how the winner (this guy) was to accept the award on TV at the state finals and would receive a Noxema photo shoot in Omaha, Nebraska. Then I showed him and congratulated him for it in study hall... This was 2001, so the thought that I actually knew how to create a website at that time probably didn't even cross his mind. This freaking guy took it seriously. So did his family. They made hotel reservations in Des Moines and everything. He was ecstatic about this "accomplishment." It wasn't until a couple days before state that his family caught on, via mentioning it to my head coach and my coach informing them that there was no such thing. So they cancelled everything.

All that shit was funny to me at the time...and kind of is when I don't think too deeply about it...however, a couple years after I graduated, I came to the conclusion that I was wrong and pushed things too far with him and I called him up out of the blue, Billy Madison style and apologized for being so mean in high school. I did this same thing with 1 other guy and my Spanish teacher...who I also teased the hell out of.

I remember getting my Spanish teacher suspended once because I let my friends tape signs that had offensive messages on them and in the middle of her lecture, I would get up to throw something away in the trash can near her desk. I did this like 15 times in one class period one day. Messages like, "my penis is infected with Herpes," "I masterbate 30 times a day," "Spanish class is like watching Spanish Fly-doused flies **** each other," "I have a throbbing, enlarged scrotum," etc. When she would notice these signs on my back, she would freak out and grab them off my back and throw them away, almost crying. The REAL shitty thing I did was when sent me to the principal's office. When I met with the principal guy to discuss the situation, I INSISTED that I had no idea that these guys were posting these signs on my back and that I was a victim of bullying (me, the captain of the wrestling team, the 3rd guy in school history to bench 200% of his weight...only 2nd guy that had all of his limbs to do that...being bullied...yeah right...this principal guy was either a gullible dumbass or didn't like my Spanish teacher). To seal the deal, I whipped up some fake crying and pleaded to him that I was so trauma-stricken by the daily bullying sessions I endured in her classroom that she allowed to take place, that I was contemplating dropping out of school. SHE got in trouble for it and was suspended for like 2 days. That's only one of many examples of the shenanigans I used to pull in Spanish class. Such...a....sarcastic.....clowned-out.....prick. And all because I didn't like a comment she made in front of the class about my 1st quarter Spanish project.

I apologized to her last year via Facebook message. These people accepted my Billy Madison-esque apologies, which makes me happy. I was wrong in how far I pushed shit with a couple of these people.

And I wasn't like this, big, buffoonish bully who went around picking at defenseless, nerdy, innocent targets at school...I was very nice to all of these people...people in genreral. Like I said, my targets were not the usual ones...just people that pissed me off somehow provoking me to lash at them....in which I continued to do so for wayyyy longer than necessary.

I was wrong in how I treated those people and feel bad about it to this day, so I guess the overall jokes are on me...?