i will now, yes, think about butter.

and as i think you shall get a barely edit version of what goes through my head.

take your average stick of butter.

it is, truly, a work of art.

just picture it, now, if you will. laying there, silently, on a butter platter. golden, glistening, being held up in the sunshine that streams in the kitchen window on a fresh comfortably warm spring morning by the arm of a heathily chubby toddler girl with that oh so lovable twinkle in her eye.

how can you not think that a beautiful sight?

what? do you not like toddlers, huh?

do you kick every kid you see?

meany.

but, yeah.

(sidebar: my big toe on my right foot has an obscenely long toe nail)

(sidebar note: that was just a big lie. i take damn good care of my toe nails. thank you.)

god damn, i'm just all over the place. im not spending enough time on butter as i should be. so im gonna stop, come back perhaps later, and see.

cause i truly believe butter deserves a good period of pondering.