technical difficulties.

cream chee' is a helluva thing.
i mean it.
i don't know if it is even close to real cream cheese.
i'm just sayin',
that sh!t seemed gross to me way back when,
before i was vegan an' all that.
however,
when it's IN something,
like chee'cake or scones, or whatever,
it's undetectably delicious.
does that make sense?
hmmmm.
the thing of it is,
cream chee' puff pastry is flippin' expert.
that's no joke.
and when it's in those little cups of rich, salty, sweet magic-
with the baked-in goodness of all the fatty-fat-fats,
which is equivalent to extra-flavor for the flour?
uh-huh.
too good.
i use my little secret wooden-barbell-type tart squisher-
the one that presses 'em perfect every time-
and i make 'em up extra special.
this time,
i even used cream chee' in the filling.
duders,
check the teleport:

yeah!!
three huge scoops of jam,
blueberry, strawberry, and rasberry,
and a heap of confectioners sugar,
a splash of soymilk, vanilla, lemon extract,
tapioca powder, and cornstarch,
plus the pectin-producing power
of a patch of powdered freeze-dried cranberries,
all in one place,
heated until melted and thickened all over again.
that's the sort of stuff you scoople into something good.
neighbors,
it was going great until i made a mess of the lemon frosting.
ugh.
too much buttery pats, and too much wetness,
and all the sugar i added just made more of the less-rad stuff.
that's why it's all slumpy-lookin'.
i've got a whole pastry bag of it left over too.
dumb.
it doesn't ALWAYS work out more beautifully,
even if it does taste that way.
so, yeah,
i F*ed it up, visually.
i doo-doo that doo-doo buttery sloppiness.
especially when i'm flippin' freezin' and wasting a whole day.
guys,
no jokes,
i took a shower, finally, last night, around seven,
and put the same pajama jammie-jam sleepy layers
that i'd been wearing all dang day right back on.
what?
oh, well, i guess so-
that IS sort of like what a bum does.
i guess i was a kind of hobo-baker-man yesterday.
i made one of the ugliest dinners i've ever cooked, too.
huh?
no. there's no photos of it.
ugh.
after the disappointing frosting situation,
i skipped the pictures of my brown heap of tasty hideousness.
stay ugly, stay dope isn't supposed to refer to food,
but when it applies,
i guess we've got to go with what's really happening.
shark-gluttony and frozen body parts and woodstove-hovering...
all damn day long, and well into the night, too.
***********
i'm staying as warm as i can,
with tingling toes,
and red ears,
and a drippy cold-weather nose,
and i haven't even stepped foot outside in twenty four hours.
it's a hard style,
and a long winter,
and a cold Fortress,
and a bitter wind blowing through this woodsly goodness.
it's better than being dead, probably,
but it's a whole lot chillier than being alive,
that's for sure;
never quiet, never soft.....