I’m Humble Pie, and I’m sorry for being so late.

For months now, various pies have been involved in a protracted…well, a big pie-fight, is what it is. I don’t see any need to do this. IMHPO, you don’t need to win pie contests to be a ’good’ pie. You don’t have to bribe judges or smuggle illicit psychotropic materials to fulfill your FUNCTION as a pie.

Not that I’m this great perfect example of a pie, I’m just saying.

I mean, talking from my experience and my experience ONLY, I do okay for myself. You don’t see me out there, in the whole pageantry. No one WANTS to eat me, but everyone ends up getting a slice sooner or later. Just last week, none other than Kenny Wayne Shepherd broke two of his strings in the middle of this awesome refrain. I can’t play guitar NEARLY as well as he can, but I do know a few Sixties songs. Well, he just up and stopped playing to take a big bite out of me. Everyone came up to me afterward and had me confused with Shepherd’s Pie, but my point is that even a homely pie like me doesn’t need 2-minute spots on the television to see the insides of someone’s digestive tract.

I don’t KNOW know Apple or Pear Pie. I’ve smelled them and I would say, personally, that they’re both great pies. That Cow Pie, I’m not gonna really go there, but he’s trying in great quantities and that’s what’s important. In a pie. It has to be there for you. I like to think that I am, because every time you call a girl the wrong name, or think YOU can win all night with Raphael at Soul Calibur 2, or vote for John Kerry, you’re welcome to take a big hunk of hot Humble Pie. I then go to meet my Baker with a clean conscience.

Meet your Baker with a clean conscience. Is all I’m saying.