I would’ve written a blog post a day or two ago but I didn’t. I have no excuse for delaying it, but then again, I don’t need one. See, it’s not my fault — it’s Charley’s fault! Blame Charley.
And I’m sorry for what happened last week. Whatever happened last week that sucked in your life. Again, not my fault. Not your fault either. It was Charley’s fault, I’m telling ya — blame Charley! That winter blast that froze out Texas for a week? Yeah, you can blame that one on Charley, too. COVID, quarantines, shutdowns? They’re all Charley’s fault, I’m telling ya! Don’t even get me started on what’s causing the deep divisions in our country. By now, you get the picture — it’s Charley’s fault.
And by now, you’re probably wondering Charley Who?
Ah, see — there’s the catch. Years ago, in one of those random moments when something weirdly went wrong with no warning or explanation, wrecking everything for everybody, but nobody really made it happen — my friend, Charley, volunteered to take the blame.
Blame Charley for the pie in my face!
Not just that time, but for everything that ever goes wrong. Forever. No matter what. No matter where.
On one condition: never use his last name.
Beyond that, he said he’s fine with being blamed with everything from Original Sin (not Eve’s fault nor the Serpent’s —it was Charley’s fault, same as always) to the Apocalypse. “Dammit, Charley, you really did this time!”
So when things go wrong, don’t fret or blame yourself or whoever else is there. You can always blame Charley instead. Don’t have to use it every time, but it’s a good thing to keep in mind: Easy peasey and works in any sticky situation to absolve you of blame or guilt. Just say, “It’s Charley’s Fault.”
Try it out. Works like a charm. You’ll feel better, I promise you.
Thank you, Charley. I feel so relieved. That’s all your fault, too, I suppose.
Buller's back porch 