That Type

This morning as I was buttering my bagel I noticed something I like to do.  I like to take on the crumbs left behind in the butter and put them on my bagel.  If there's smeared jelly in the butter, I'll take that too!  I am not afraid of a little ABC jelly on my bagel.  I'm no germ-a-phobe. What I am is an esthete.  I care too much what things look like to others.  I don't want the next person (whoever it may be-I wasn't expecting Martha Stewart in any time today, but you never know) to see the crumbs or peanut butter or jam in my butter.  I don't like the way that looks.  Like ghetto, mish-mash, family butter.  Everyone just leaves their messes around here for me to clean up.... EVEN in the butter!  And I just fall into that trap over and over and give a man a fish.  I don't teach anyone to stop messing up the butter, I just absorb it onto my bread of choice, day after day.  But the butter looks great!  

As I spread my crummy butter onto my less than worthy bagel this morning a song came to mind.  That "I'm that type a guy" song by LL Cool J.  What can I say?  I was a teen in the eighties.  I tried to recall the lyrics thinking I could switch them up a bit and insert words about slutty butter and Bimbo bread.  (a little reference from our childhood for you Shauna).  I was thinking "I'm the type a gal, who spreads the crap on her toast.  Why do I do it?  'cause I need therapy the most." 

 I had cause to smile thinking that all I could remember about the real lyrics to that song was something about how someone is the type a guy who gives her money to shop.  What does that say about me?  I must have had big aspirations as a teenager to marry a big spender someday (joke's on me there!).  So I checked out the song lyrics online and I must say this to Mr Cool J.  Shame on you!  That is one naughty song!  How dare you think it's okay to infuse the youth of my day with the idea that one should be looked up to for doing things like- doorbell ditching.  No wonder I turned out this way.