eleven.

damn, friends.
something has slipped my mind....
no?
oh.
okay.
-
well, anyway,
what do you duders know about apples?
i mean,
they're positively september,
that's for sure.
and they keep doctors away,
which isn't all that helpful when you'd like to maybe play doctor a little,
but otherwise is pretty dang good for you.
they're delicious.
no question.
and most of all, they're in abundant super-fresh quantities,
right off of the roadside branches of the woodsly goodness.
that's expert.
too much, too close, on time and in season?
that means they're too dope NOT to get used in today's treats.
real talk.
did i soak chopped walnuts in armed up molasses and vanilla?
yes, i did.
i wanted that blackstrap boomfire to be exxxtra-fresca for your mouth.
did i slow-cook maple-syrupy mcintosh apple chunks into a soft saucy slump?
that low-temp slo-mo jauns makes 'em firm, but so melty at the same time.
mmmmmm.
but,
what about the buttery batter?
oh.
don't worry your little heads neighbors-
i activated it with vanilla soy yogurt,
for a very wet sloppy mix-up that turned into the moistest, juiciest,
spongiest rich breadsly muffin squares i've made in months.
y'wanna see?
ok.
check the teleport:

september means apples.
rules is rules.
...and don't act like that cinnamon sprankle topped
sliver of mack-handed mcintosh isn't some level eleven-type sh!t.
i mean,
c'mon,
that's the date,
and that's the thing.
today is the day, for sure.
a ball-out balls-to-the-wall friday,
and it's the eleventh.
i can't help think i'm forgetting something, though.
still nothing?
oh.
treats are good for you,
and treats are great for me.
when i'm fomenting rebellion, or just formulating a new plan,
the ovenly goodness of the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress has what it takes
to bring me where i need to be.
lucky, huh?
i thought so too.
a baked apple bar is tasty, and hearty, and fruity,
and fall-flavored with full-bodied big action for all my bearded weirdness needs.
also,
after a pounding rainstorm last night,
it finally feels like fall, too.
cinnamon and rain and the first red leaves?
it's all really happening,
and a great many other other changes are too.
more on that as it develops.
*
i'm trying to rebuild my whole entire life,
from scratch.
it's a lot of work.
like,
years later, i'm busier than ever,
and bitterer than oversteeped tea, running uphill on an oversteep mountain.
the gravity of that plight and peril does not escape me.
(puns)
i'm working and working, and moving and shaking,
and arranging and orchestrating, planning and plotting and preparing.
it takes up a lot of time, guys.
meanwhile,
y'all over there worrying about eyebrows?
not cool.
on the ones, folks-
the next woman who mentions her eyebrow game is on point
is getting a hot blast of pre-mixed nair to the forehead,
and gettin' left straight up whoopi-pied, goldberg-style.
is that too far?
i'm steady reppin' the future,
and you're playing games with eyeball awnings?
that's a thing?
i'm just sayin',
if the best you've got to offer is hours of falsifying your F*ing face?
then i don't love you.
eyebrow game on pointless.
not invited.
you know how we get down, don'tcha?
no pretense, no pretending-
real recognize real;
expert recognize expert;
and ducklings don't swan up where we're from-
stay ugly, stay dope,
and if you've got exxxtra time after you've accomplished something with yourself,
maybe then you can tweeze those caterpillars into shape;
never quiet, never soft.....