If you have a tendency to get a little down when the Butcher is out of town and thus spend your Friday night (which is usually spent hanging out with him) watching television alone and feeding your dog pigs’ ears while you tell yourself it’s fine to eat one million Reese’s peanut butter cups as long as you only eat them five at a time and get up and walk to the fridge every time you need to get your handful, do not then lay there in bed in the morning because you have no reason to get up.
You do have a reason to get up, remember?
Dogs love ’em, but they go right through Mrs. Wigglebottom like butter.
Luckily, we made it outside just in time, but not without having to endure looks of complete disdain from the cats.
Now, I know, cats have a tendency to give you looks of complete disdain all the time, but trust me, this one was a look of “You know, when that other mostly bald ape is here, shit like this never happens. Now, where’s our food?”