duders,
it's bound to be a sh!t-salad smear of a day.
gotta be.
it's a vacation holiday weekend,
and the roads are already astir with somewhat lost losers,
scouring every inch of the mountains for parking spaces and breakfast spots.
SO many d!ckturds are migrating north for the fourth,
and so many of them are looking to 'get inked'.
that's never a good conversation starter, by the way.
'i wanna get some ink'...!?
ummm, EW.
and because of those sorts of doo-doo buttery bostonian buttholes,
there're appointments getting booked like flies in the ointment,
which is, of course, to say that ruiners are doing what they do best,
in both the giving and receiving chairs, at every other station in the studio.
mmmhmmm.
don't misunderstand me, friends.
i don't hate my job.
i don't.
it's just almost all the elements within it i find repugnant.
it'd be like saying-
i don't hate firearms.
i just hate bullets, and targets, and anyone pulling the trigger.
got it?
feel free to make the necessary substitutions at your leisure.
anyway,
hard styles and losery incense fumes stonering their way into my area,
with a sour soundtrack of at-least-a-decade-too-late-to-be-tolerable
outdated heavy mosh noises,
and brutally limited conversation,
are surely the sorts of suckery i'll be enduring today.
i know i'm a lucky ugly duckling to have a career i can lambast at length,
and still cash in on those movie checks.
i'm grateful for the 'garious glop that finances this Folk Life hermitage of mine.
but i've still got to tell true stories.
y'see,
i doo-doo that hand-feeding back-biting sh!t.
to that end,
i've got stacks on stacks of tatz on tatz,
and per usual, no flipping WAY are those zippity zaps
going to be the just rewards i'm hoping for.
nope.
can't happen.
but,
maybe i should just focus on getting my just desserts, instead.
yeah.
i think that's a wise thing.
because when it comes to just desserts, i'm definitely exerting full creative control,
and unlike the tattoo scene at the studio,
i've also got an absolute and tyrannical stranglehold on all the comings, goings,
doings, and activating that goes on here in my mad laboratorial test kitchen.
yes, indeed, neighbors.
i love how my focus sharpens when the locus is the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
no joke.
later,
there will be plenty of poop to scoop, metaphorically,
while i while away for a while with a scowl and an ascerbic anecdote or dos.
but now, in the moment,
what i've got is unparalleled treats brightening the early morning light.
yuuuuuup.
no amount of workplace dissatisfaction can darken the hot fuego freshness
of a well made treat.
real talk.
in this moment,
regardless of any anticipated problems post meridiem,
there is something totally F*ing expert waiting to get bitten into.
duders,
check the bright-highlight-type teleport:
cookies improve every situation.
two cookies make it even better.
two cookies and something sweet in-between 'em makes it expert.
and sprankles take that whole thing to eleven.
word.
butt-naked rock bloxx are what i baked,
and i rolled every other one in cocoa,
for that chocolate doodiecrankle effect you're enjoying right now.
oatmeal coconut vanilla cookies, soft enough to melt in your mouth,
but firm enough to get a little crawnch on the edges?
yep.
i got that going on.
miniature chocolate chips sprank'd on top,
for a little more of that nicey-nice.
the fudge creme frosting filling in the center really ties the whole super-elite
big business into one cohesive knot of absolutely ferocious new hottness.
guys,
whenever i've got a lot going on,
a session in the kitchen clears it all up.
from start to finish,
the process of producing something great,
and the progress i make in creating carte blanche confections,
serve as reminders that the big picture includes a whole lot more than
just jobs, jerks. and jejune july judgements.
work isn't just for the workplace.
and worthwhile warrior poetry isn't composed solely in conflict.
today is the day, just like every other day.
and today,
the schedule includes tough times, long nights, early mornings,
lost moorings, lost time, and unsavory characters at every junction....
but,
it ALSO has a fresh-baked batch of burly cookie sandwiches.
i s'pose that'll have to do;
never quiet, never soft.....
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