i guess tart tuesday has become kind of a thing.
it's not as if i don't know what i'm getting myself into.
i do something a couple times,
and before too long?
it's just one more thing that i just do.
or, more aptly,
one more thing i am compelled to keep doing.
the pricetag for participation is not very steep,
but it is very exact.
you want the big action?
then you gotta get big busy.
the object, neighbors, is always more.
more fun, more treats, more art, more words, more hugs and kisses;
MORE of ALL of THIS.
and that means finding more time to make more moves;
meager moments made massive to manipulate that expert magic
into the frustratingly finite minutes that each day stingily provides
as a tick-tocking timebomb timetable countdown
for producing maximum activation all the way off the margins,
past the one-to-ten-and-back-agains,
and taking it up to eleven.
i keep saying the same sh!t every day, in subtly different ways, y'all,
because that's what i do.
one of those impelled propulsions into competent, if repetitive, communication.
headlong and mouthfirst like a puckered-up kissy-face missile into the world
of words and deeds and worth and merit.
i doo-doo what i do in order to have something to talk about.
storytellers without stories are a waste of time, and breath.
i guess tart tuesday really IS kind of a thing, for now.
i baked myself silly again, too.
my oatmeal graham cracker cookie crust cups
used way more ingredients in greater amounts,
and only yielded up five more individual treats.
i don't get it either, duders.
i guess i packed in all the extra hottness,
and they're just chock full to the brim with concentrated crispiness?
they sure taste like it, so that's good news.
check the royal purple reign of these bloobs via teleport:
blueberry-creme custom-blended whipped-up filling?
you know how much i like to make sure it's fancy.
wild blueberry goobieblops on top of each little sexy cup of crusty sweetness?
a little bit of citrus is the not-so-secret ingredient, too.
a splash of lemony extractives takes the blue in those berries up a notch.
ridiculously delicious results occur immediately.
powdered sugar dust makes sure that if you weren't already getting that
'damn, these look like they came from some serious gourmet-type jauns' vibe,
you might be an A*-hole.
i'm not saying you are definitely an A*-hole,
but, the signs do kinda point towards that.
but if you can't hang out with sweet tarts and purple-hued blueberries,
then you can't hang out with me, either.
i do what i do.
i have to.
as a side note,
this post makes #2027- that's the F*ing future;
never quiet, never soft.....