Overheard in New Orleans

My dear husband and I were in New Orleans a few days back, walking back to our hotel after a lovely dinner.  We were near the arena where the Pelicans play, and the game had just ended so the streets were full of fans.  We passed by a young man in his early 20s having a telephone conversation.  As we walked by, we heard him say:

"Yeah, I don't know what was up with him.  At halftime he just goes, 'My butthole hurts.  I'm going home.' And he just left."

This is how I will announce my departure from everything from now on.