It’s like butt-ah

My daughter's Girl Scout troupe had a bake sale at our church Sunday. Our church has two services, so we had two rounds of sales. In between, the girls diligently readied the tables for the second rush of customers and we parents hung out just out of earshot sharing off-color anecdotes.

One of the dads had a great one about the one that didn’t get away. It was a true inspirational tale for all of us who had those moments where, three hours removed from a conversation, we suddenly come up with what we should have said.

My wife had to make several batches of cookies, so I went to the store to get ingredients. This really snooty woman was standing right in front of the butter looking through ingredients of the gourmet yogurts.
"Excuse me," I said, "can I please get to the butter?" She moved about six inches – still in the way but I could reach what I needed.
I took out five boxes of butter and was about to walk away when I realized it was salted. I needed unsalted.
"I’m sorry," I said to her, "I grabbed the wrong kind. Can I get in here again?"
She leered at me as I switched the boxes. "It’s not going to make a difference," she huffed. "Salted or not, the cholesterol is still going to kill you."
"Oh, I'm not going to eat this," I replied. "We use this as lubricant for anal sex."

On a related topic, I am adding another new word to the vernacular. Those militant snotty elitist know-it-alls who insist that you comply with their view on diet, the environment, fashion, etc:

Snotzis