Friday, December 11


have you ever even had biscoff cookies?
c'mon, neighbors.
they're on that next-level upgrade white people sh!t.
no doubt.
the kind of belgian hottness on par with van damme.
word up.
they're expert,
and moreover,
they turned their signature cookies into a signature spread.
it's cookie butter, and it's dope.
you all know how i get busy already, probably-
but , just for the benefit of anybody who might be new here:
too much is the right amount.
...that's the truth.
and MORE is better, every time.
without any more preamble,
check the biscoff-type teleport:

peanut butter oatmeal squares.
brownie style, with melty creamy dreamy luscious peanutty butts all up in 'em.
they're crumbly, because oats and peanut butter are wont to doo-doo that sh!t,
and they're rich, for the same reason.
they've got alllll the calories,
and all the hottness,
and they are full activated with a triple threat of biscoff big busy business.
biscoff buttery frosting, whipped into airy soft cookie sugar fluff,
filling up the insides.
biscoff spread splashed across the tops, too.
that's a lot of decadence in one bite.
why add the straight-up spread?
to hold on the crushed biscoff cookie sprankles, OBviously!!
cookies, and butter, and frosting, on those already elite right-angled rectangles?
my whole tongue turned off, and i was left speechless from the first bite to the last.
no talking for ten seconds, in a row.
can you believe it?
i ate the second one much faster,
just to prevent a repeat performance.
i've been doing a lot of banking.
not because i have too many stacks of movie checks.
in fact,
just the opposite.
it seems that true responsible adulthood includes a lot of paperwork,
and finances are about the least interesting part of all of that.
the thing of it is-
i'm about to be FORTY.
i'd like to erase the past decade, or at least,
the alarmingly lingering vestiges of my greatest misses,
(and not-so-greatest mrs.  ha!)
and strike them from the records as inadmissably irrelevant
to the present state of affairs in the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
that means tying up all the loose ends,
and whilst tying the knots hasn't ever been what i needed,
untangling the snarls and snags sure does seem to be my forte'.
what i mean is-
i'd like to call my thirties a wash.
i sort of won some,
i definitely lost some,
and now, the season is over.
i'm looking ahead, to another 'nother balder, grayer, older, more busted decade
of well-honed wordsmithing and warrior poetry in motion.
that includes a bunch of bank stuff.
it's no fun, and everybody is always in a hurry to get the forms.
the forms/.
forms, formality, fomorians.....
it's all trying to keep me up at night,
and F* up my days,
and distract and detract from this mutha-effing elevenmas, too.
there's so much that goes into these paperworks,
and somehow, albeit by no means any surprise,
MY paperworkings are the circuitous, overcomplicated, longhanded long ways
away from the smooth electronic jauns of today and tomorrow.
no foolin'.
every step has been a battle for secret documentation,
and verified, signed, notarized disclaimers of veracity and verisimilitude.
when it's all said and done,
each and every article of itemized legally-binding proof of my life
will have been distilled to just the barest boiled-down burly berserker
barbarian battle-beastly blood essence,
and the future will unfold along a single timeline, straight as an arrow,
falling straight down.
i don't even understand half of it,
but i assure you,
it's ALL really happening,
and i've been told that's for the best;
never quiet, never soft.....

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