blocks and blocks...

no baking?!

ok.

but what about stovetop block rockin' radness?

yeah?

yeah!!

no bake cookies are so expert.

even if the full force of a raging oven isn't required;

they've still got a measure of metaphorical hottness,

even when you keep 'em in the fridge to set up and stiffen.

no baking doesn't mean no activating, neighbors.

i make 'em exxxtra-rich,

with MORE of everything in the original amount of space.

that makes the finished product so dense,

and so dope,

and so peanut buttery and chocolaty.

actually,

that the only way they could be better 

would be if we fired in a whole lot of coconut to the mix.

mmmmmmmmmm.

i doo-doo that coconutty buddy sh!t,

and i did it this time, too.

that's right.

check the teleport:

c'mon!

coconut flour, oat flour, whole oats, shredded coconut,

fancy peanut butter, regular melted butterish pats,

vanilla, sugar, soymilk, cocoa and chocolate chips,

all together in one big bowl,

everything touching up on everything else,

and making a greasy goobieblop extravaganza for my face?

mmhmm.

that's right.

i like it like that.

and because the blarpity wax-paper poopcrinkle drop style 

leaves a lot to be desired in terms of presentation,

you know i'm mooshing all that mixture into molds,

so that the visual effect affects the whole experience.

don't be dumb.

if doing it is good,

overdoing it is better.

that's the rules-

too much is the right amount,

and halfway decent is nowhere near the destination we're reaching for.

word up.

***********

treats are my thing.

whenever something is up, 

or i'm just a little out of sorts,

or upside down,

or inside out,

or tied in knots,

i get into some treat-making baked(or cooked) greatness,

and it all unfolds into orderly sequences of fortunate and unfortunate 

cause-and-effectiveness.

that's real.

treats make linear blueprints out of the inroads and back alleys of my brain,

and create rules out of chaos.

that's dope.

sugar rushes and toothaches notwithstanding,

i'm pretty sure this is my way of translating secret universal plans into warrior poetry.

my rosetta stone is a mixing bowl,

and my code of hammurabi is written in half-cup measurements.

there's a message in everything-

i'm gonna keep stirring until i find out what it is;

never quiet, never soft.....