cinnamon.

cookies are expert.
and if you don't like 'em,
you're a fool.
i mean, c'mon!
single servings of sugary sweet treats,
discs of delicious dopeness,
round coins of crumbly currency that pay the toll for unrestricted backstage access
to flavor explosions all up in your big dumb face!!!
yeah.
cookies, y'all.
i make a lot of them.
why?
duh.
because i like things that aren't sh!tty.
don't be dumb.
also,
gluten free jauns aren't bad, if you know what to do to keep them from being doo-doo.
and i do.
because i doo-doo that freaky sh!t,
and i don't need no wheat to activate the hottness.
nope.
i've got a proprietary blend of brown and white rice, garbanzo flour, and oatmeal,
and when i put it all together,
we get ourselves a batch of  fresh baked greatness.
check the cool-morning-glory-type teleport:

cinnamon oatmeal raisin cranberry cookies!
rolled in demerara raw sugary sprankles;
lightly kissed with notes of nutmeg and ginger;
and dusted with just a bit more unmeasured cinnamon,
just for good measure, so to speak,
at the very last minute before baking.
what does that do?
it makes 'em smell like everything nicey-nice,
the way the singsong rhyme says.
duders,
sugar and spice make everything nice.
neighbors,
when nothing seems all that terrific,
and it's getting a little darker and a little colder each day,
we've still got ourselves some cookies.
and that's pretty flippin' terrific.
also,
i'm psyched on the cranberries and raisins,
because twice the dried fruit is, like, double rad.
and i'm pumped that i added in a little creamed creamchee' with the butter and sugar,
to fluff up the ricey niceties of that crumb,
so they stay all soft and chewy forever and ever.
***********
there's so many tattoos on the schedule all of a sudden.
i mean it.
almost as if every day is the worst day,
day after day of cover-ups and camouflage and cheap coffee,
and week after week of lots of those days.
all of that,
just to end the summer season on a low note.
i'm just sayin',
come september,
there will be no work,
and no fun,
and no movie checks to speak of-
so i s'pose there's something to be said for spinning straw into gold,
even if it's the speoiled and spent straw from the floor of a stable.
damn.
it seems like if it wasn't for hard styles,
there wouldn't be any styles at all.
i'm gonna need a whole lot more cookies i think;
never quiet, never soft.....