going bananas over chocolate.

holy sh!t!!!
post #2222 right here.
that's bananas, huh?
it sure is.
but anyway, guys,
i'm pretty sure chocolate is good for you.
i think that is still a real thing, right?
no?
c'mon.
well, it should be.
anyway, i know some stuff.
for example-
banana bread is good;
chocolate is good;
chocolate chips are good;
and baby things are so cute!
what's a worthy kitchen commander to do with that info?
get some baby-sized chocolate chips,
add 'em to some banana-based batter,
stir in some cocoa powder,
add it all into mini loaf pans because lots of baby breads is good,
and sprankle some big crystals of really raw sugar,
and a generous gratin' of german chocolate shavin's on top.
obviously.
what else would i do?
don't be so stoopid.
how's that for expert?
uh-huh.
check the proof-in-pictures-type teleport:

pow!
nothing activates the bananarama jammie-jam jauns
like adding a bunch of brown stuff to it.
yeah.
i can't stop eating them.
they're just too damned good.
for serious.
i'm maybe getting the hang of this baking thing.
hahaha.
false modesty is for suckers.
expert recognize expert.
if you don't know, then you aren't.
***********
sleep is for A*-holes.
at least,
that's what i told myself at two in the morning,
staring out into a bright and snowy blue glow,
miles away from slumber,
scratching and shaking and quaking with moonlit berserker energy.
yep.
full moons have an effect on me.
savage red-alert hypersensitivity,
blue moonbeams,
and quicksilver threads of spirit and memory and snow and everything.
all at once,
a smorgasbord of barbarian bluntness,
irascible irritability,
shredding and spitting and freezing and burning,
frostbitten werewolf wintertime warrior poetry,
unfolding in my racing thoughts,
and keeping my eyes from finding rest.
styles are hard these days and the nights are long.
the wind is howling, and so am i.
this is how it all unfolds,
baking, and making, and doing and undoing,
shedding layers and shedding selves,
and shoveling and shoveling and shoveling.
piles of snow, piles of food, piles of sh!t.
real life doesn't care about sleeping;
never quiet, never soft.....