Bitch? Not Butch! Oh, Man I need Glasses! And probably to join AA

Hey there! My name is Butch. B-U-T-C-H.  Let's be clear. That is my name that people call me.  I'm proud of that name.  I’m a 38-year-old lumber-mill worker from out in northwest Montana.  Now some of my friends call me by the nickname “Crazy Butch”, which is way better than “8 Finger Butch” which is my other nickname cause as you can guess, I only got 8 fingers left.  As my boss at the mill told me, I lose one more finger, they got to let me go, cause I won't be able to keep up with the tree-flow.  That's cool.  I now know not to go into work no more if I'm more than what I deem a "six-pack buzz."  You know what I'm saying?  Frosted Flakes and one Light Beer for breakfast and that's it!     I got my nickname Crazy Butch how I compete and often win the weekly "Whiskey Shot Wednesdays" at Garbo's.  I was so good I had won 15 weeks in a row.  You'd think 15 weeks in a row would be the record, but no!  On the wall, there's a photo of an icon, Sam, from the 1990's. Sam was a 300 lb. gal, w