My butt is sore tonight. It's 4 am and I just got home from work-related butt-kickings. Ten hours of butt-boredom followed by four hours of butt-panic, all in a state of butt-exhaustion and near butt-delirium.

And then, when glorious butt-release was finally mine at 2:30 am, the car service cabbie who was entrusted with the tender transit of my butt homewards TRIED TO TAKE ME TO FUCKING MASBETH. I opened my weary butt-eyes and was like DUDE, THIS IS SO NOT RIGHT. He was nice enough, said "Sorry, I'm kind of new at this." Yes, my butt could have guessed that.

So a fifteen-minute butt-ride turned into an hourlong tour of the rather eerie 3 am backroads of Queens. And the missus's butt thought my butt was dead in a butt-ditch.


But my butt has butt-wine, and kitty butts that need pettinz, and thank the Great Butt in the Sky I don't have to go back in tomorrow.

I hope your butts had a better butt-day than my butt did, ButtThinkers.