The Butcher and Mrs. Wigglebottom

In the morning, I get up. I throw on my overalls and my handy timmorgan.com t-shirt* and my big orange jacket, which I stole from the Butcher, who once had a goal of having a totally orange wardrobe, and I walk the dog. I come back. I eat some breakfast and surf the internet. Then, I head upstairs to take a shower and get dressed. This appears to be the dog's favorite moment of the day. Sometimes, she sits at the top of the stairs with her paws just peeking over the top step and her big bat-wing ears perked up. Often, she's sitting right by the Butcher's door, looking around the corner to see if I'm coming. She does this because, some days, we antagonize the Butcher while he's trying to sleep. I'll open the door to his room. She'll go leaping up on the bed. I'll say, "Get that boy. Get that boy." And she'll look at me so excited like "I know you want me to do something and I bet it's going to be fun, but I have no idea what the fuck it is, crazy woman. Should I step here? Should I bark like this? Ooo, what if I did my weird howl?" And I'll say, "No, lick that boy's face." And she'll step all over him to come over and lick my finger. Once he's sufficiently stepped all over, I will sing him a little song I spontaneously make up. This morning, I sang "Give me twenty dollars and take me to work./ I want money for lunch and you know it wouldn't hurt/ to treat the Professor since she watched out house. Give me twenty dollars and give it to me now." He said he didn't have twenty dollars. "What did you spend all your money on? Alcohol?" "Booze and floozies, B., booze and floozies." "So, I have to eat peanut butter and jelly yet again?" "Damn straight." "Fine." "Get in the kitchen and make your lunch." "Fine." "And make me some lunch while you're at it." "Fuck you." "Yeah, I thought that was pushing it." [Edited to add: Hey, I have $60 in my checking account. If I can find someone who can go to lunch at eleven it's "fuck you, peanut butter and jelly" for me! Woo hoo!] [Edited again to add: Lunch with the Professor and the Cowboy-riding Girl from the Office! Now, if I need to throw things at people, I have one perfectly good peanut butter and jelly sandwich to wing at them! Life is good.] *I figure, this way, if I'm run over, the police can contact Tim and ask him for a list of his customers and quickly narrow it down to me.