tight bundt-holes

treats!
yeah!
neighbors,
there's something special about a spongy little cake.
y'know?
when the butters melt just right,
and you get a crumb with enough air in it to loft it up,
and keep it soft.
when the sugar profile is delicate, instead of toothachy overpowering,
so the overall texture is springy and springtime fresh?
you need that in your mouth.
yes, yes, y'all-
good cake is good for you.
when all of that crumby creation is in effect,
and the batter is right there, extra whipped and ready,
and you've got the right tools for the job,
-which is to say, personal-pocket-sized fan-shaped pans-
then you've GOT to freak it off with some spiral-style dented-dead-center dopeness.
yup.
that's the correct combination of components needed to bust out those
baby b-holes in pure bundty fashion.
for real.
check the bundt-pleats-type teleport:

vanilla paste, and lemon oil, and lemon zest.
that's the way to doo-doo that cakey sh!t.
the interior taste is subtle, understated, and expert.
the icing?
even more so.
confectioners sugar, vanilla, lemon extract, and sweetened meyer lemon juice,
glazey, and crazy, and not-that-tart, yet definitely lemon activated, to eleven.
so,
how do we take it higher up?
farther, and further, past the reaches of a tasty treat,
and into the realm of a necessary overindulgent shark-gluttonous gastric grand gala?
for starters,
we add lemon zest sprankles.
OBviously.
and thennnnnnnn,
there's that frosting goobieblop in the indented wrinkle-dot vortexes
of those worthy warrior hurricane eyes.
yuuuuuuuuuup.
coconut creme, and ground coconut, and coconut oil,
with sugars and butters and vanilla,
and a lot of whippin' it into shape,
an the very next thing you know?
we're living in the future.
wordimus prime.
i'm all about this baking life, bro.
that's no joke.
it's in there, pulsing like blood.
pounding like drums, and pounding like headaches,
and hard-style pounding like a john henry-fightin' self-destructive pyrrhic sex machine.
huh?
it's inescapable.
inextricable.
inevitable.
you give me some flour, and i'm going to turn it into something.
my infinite nature demands it,
and nature wins, kids.
there's always a good reason to fight back,
just never a victory.
in this instance,
the consolation prize is a faceful of b-holes for all the A*-holes
who choose to wage war against their true selves,
and barricade their berserker selves behind a baked good or two.
the thing is,
with enough sugar, the bitterness bumps up a level,
just to find balance in the force.
i think that's probably a real thing.
a neverending blood feud battle with your inner self?
yeah.
with pots and pans as peacemakers?
yeah.
and more of it every day, forever and ever?
looks like that's the forecast.
what did you think infinite nature meant?
c'mon.
lemony sunshine,
and coconutty richness,
and spongey cakes underneath...
that's a good start to today-
now we'll rush and attack, and see how it ends;
never quiet, never soft.....