“Thoughts on my Ass!”

Hey, Billy. Been a while.

“Help! Fuckin’ giants, man!”

Those aren’t giants. They’re basketball players.

“Either of ’em LeBron?’

Obviously not.

“Fuck ’em, then.”

Sure. Where you been, buddy?

“The islands, man. I only come back to the mainland when someone pays me to. Wait, I know who this guy is. Walton. I know this fucker.”

For, like, 40 years.

“I got my mind on other stuff. Preoccupied as shit.”

About what?

“Relix is publishing an article about all the skank I plowed. They talked to the skank, Ass!”

That’s not good.

“They talked to the skank!”

I heard you.

“There’s all sorts of stories in this thing. The time I jerked off into a plant in front of some skank.”

You made a woman watch you masturbate?

“Made her? It was her fucking idea! She was at the salad bar shoving celery in herself. She was on her period. Called it a Bloody Mary.”

Ew.

“I don’t even know where they found half these chicks. I didn’t even know most of their real names. Like Bus Locker.”

Bus Locker?

“I kept her in a bus locker.”

Oh, Billy.

“She was into it!”

Well, that’s fine. It sounds like you’re talking about consensual perversions here, Bill.

“I didn’t consent to some of it. I liked it, but I didn’t consent to it.”

I don’t think this article will affect your reputation.

“It’s the principle of the thing. A gentleman never tells.”

You literally wrote a book about your adventures in skank town.

“Yeah, but I’m not a gentleman.”

True.

“And it turns out that the skank aren’t gentlemen, either.”

No, they’re skank.

“I expected more.”

You shouldn’t have.

“I am laid low by that which I love the most. I’m like a Greek tragedy, Ass.”

You’re not.

“You know what a real Greek tragedy is? Running out of lube when you’re banging one of them. They’re all about the butt.”

We’re done.

“See you on tour.”

Okay.