I need to change my underwear

So today Billie Joe Armstrong landed on my face...

That's right, I was innocently minding my own business at the Green Day concert when he leaped off the stage, landing directly on top of me, which caused me to throw my hands up and catch him by his ass. I touched Billie Joe's ass. This was not exactly a lifelong goal for me, but it was pleasant enough I suppose. My friend Bethany would have done a goodly amount of things that are not natural or recommended for her to have been in my place, so I feel it would be a dishonor to take it too lightly. The ass to hand contact is not the method that first comes to mind when I consider means of demonstrating your appreciation for somebody, but it will have to do in this case. I hope that Billie Joe recognized the surge of feelings and emotions behind that hand lovingly supporting his buttocks. That ass belonged to a man who singlehandedly created a good portion of the soundtrack to my adolescence, who forced me to listen to good music, and who continues to be one cool son of a bitch. Long live Billie Joe's ass, and may it continue to grace the loyal hands of its admirers with its majesty for years to come.