WordCrap number 1: "I'm sorry, but..." is killing me

I'm sorry, but when you hear someone open a sentence with, "I'm sorry, but...," we all know this one, singular truth: they are not sorry for what they're about to say.

They, are not, SORRY.

This is the first in a series of entries on pretty much anything in the English language that annoys the hell out of me, which I am calling, for now, the WordCrap series. I may change it later if I grow the ca hones to call it something more crass, but for now, WordCrap is the last one on the island.

I'm starting with you, "I'm sorry, but..." You are one of many phrases that are eroding both society as it could be and the lining of my esophagus, as it was. I'm sorry, but what I'm about to say might feel like I'm, as my friend Stevie says, ripping you a new one, but your brand new orifice is something for which, I am not, sorry.

You, phrase, are the equivalent of the southern WordCrap, "Bless his heart, but..." which seems to provide the user with a feeling that they now have the sheer freedom to insult anyone simply because they have used an apologetic phrase first. I have no problem with the insult part. Insult away, by all means. What I have a problem with is that in order to make some phony excuse for the insult (warranted or not), people now seem to feel that they have to preface the statement with you, phrase; they feel that in order to be truthful, they must first lie.

For you, dear user of this phrase: If you are not sorry, please, kind friend, do not say that you are sorry. If you are really sorry, then apologize for your frankness afterward, if you are truly sorry. But odds are you are not. And that is OK.

Examples:
I'm sorry, but that may just be the ugliest baby that I have ever in my life seen. [Sorry? Not sorry. Wouldn't it be more accurate to say, "I'm sad, but..."?]
I'm sorry, but I was here first and you are an inflamed, line-cutting, swollen drinker of my disease-ridden rat's piss. [Sorry? Not Sorry at all!]
I'm sorry, but you look like the bastard child of Dick Cheney and his dog's interpretive dance instructor. [Sorry? Maybe. This one may warrant a post insult apology. Your call.]

And don't get me started on, "Bless her heart, but..." - Southern friends, instead of making a flimsy meaningless excuse to speak your mind about the loved ones you love to hate, why don't you just, yes, you guessed it, SPEAK YOUR MIND. You don't really mean to bless anyone's heart. A heart blessed is not the goal of what you are about to bring to light. What you are about to say is an attempt to wring said person's heart dry, making it devoid of blessings and heart-ish nicey things. So do it, and be honest. As our President says, when it comes to your thoughts, "Shoot first, and - hey - where's my glitter?"

There. better. Number 1 is done. And I am not sorry.