no coffee,

just cake.
duders,
what happens when i don't have apples?
because what at first glance i thought were pommes
were actually a pile of pommes de terre!
well, for starters,
i need to rethink my red pontiac potato situation,
and maybe also look a little closer at my pantry in the wee hours of the morning.
and also,
i don't get to make apple cupcakes.
aww.
i could've just gone with it, and used up what i did have handy,
but 'tater cupcakes would've sucked all the balls of ever.
so instead i made weird-yogurt oatmeal coffee cake as an alternative.
and i made it all up, from scratch,
because what are recipes, and what is giving a F*?
check the coffeetabletalk teleport:

yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup.
neighbors,
plain unsweetened soy yogurt made this the lightest, tightest, and freshest jauns
to hit my oven with a fistful of bubblin' hot dopeness in at least a whole week..
huh?
oh, yeah, i know-
i'll freestyle some new flavor activation business when i'm feeling forced to.
and i confront my kitchen situation as a metaphor for all my other situations.
meditative process, with creative problem solving, and complicated methods
measured out one by one eyeball-estimated teaspoon at a time.
yeah.
i doo doo that improvisational improvement sh!t.
oh,
and it's got buttloads of oat flour, and dark brown sugar in the crumb,
and twice as much oats, and quadruple the confection-type powdered sweetness
in the coconut-laced vanilla-sprankled streusel!
so for the most part,
i guess it's a pretty flippin' good thing my early morning assessment
of the fruit to root ratio was as far off as it was;
otherwise,
i would never have had the wherewithal to wallop the batter with that bitter yogurty
b!tchbaggery swagger, and then shoot it off the charts,
to eleven,
with that crumbly yumbly topping.
sometimes,
i even impress myself.
***********
it's back to the grind today, kids.
after a couple of days off, darting out and about,
trying to up the ante on the XI-mas feeling in the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
...and good F*ing luck with that, by the way-
no tree, no trimmings, no stocking for me-
whoa now-
there are yule socks hung by the chimney with care, y'all.
because, obviously, i'm not a complete A*-hole;
c'mon.
just not mine.
it's still stashed away next to it's equally (maybe moreso) absentee partner,
in the seasonally appropriate cold storage container in the closet.
awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww, man!
and since filling up my own would be about as sorry sack-o'-sh!tty as it gets,
it'll stay interred until such time as things get better.
(read as: forever alone)
hahahahahaha!!
every day is the worst one,
it's ALL really happening;
never quiet, never soft.....