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Chamois Butter

It’s called chamois butter. I call it “sham WAH” butter. Because I’m French. And that is just how we say shit in France. But I’m told that nothing is more frustrating than working a stop at the Bridge Pedal, when a thousand sweaty men come up to you asking, in earnest, with double-negatives blazing, for Butt Butter.

“You don’t got none of that butt butter, do you? My ass could use some butt butter.”

I can only hope that this started as a joke, and then blossomed into something much more awful and hilarious. I can only hope that there are not hundreds people out there who ask, with a straight face, for something called “butt butter”, and then put said item on their actual butts. Because that would mean that this product didn’t have a sense of irony, that there was nothing clever in the title. If this were the case, it would be the least creative product name since the “pooper scooper” or “I can’t believe it’s not butter”. Which, oddly enough, are both products that could also have ass jokes. But at least ICBINB had Fabio as a spokesperson. What does Chamois Butter have?

Nothing. Except its amazing ability to┬ákeep me from getting sores on my ass. And for that alone, I would buy this product. Even if it were called “Put this in your shorts or you will get sores that will make you question that one night stand you had and whose name you don’t remember”