Thursday, December 17

the XI cookies of XImas-2&3

gluten freedom.
i'm not personally glutarded,
but i know a few unfortunate souls who are.
i'll bet that's a real b!tch-A* bummer every single day.
or, at least,
every single day except today.
mmmhmmm.
i made some XImas treats in the spirit of being nice to those
who are genetically disappointing in the digestive dopeness.
yeah.
i'm secretly nice, sometimes.
check the gluten-free-type teleport:

yay!
don't even front on that spruce and acorn accent.
you LOVE that crackery white people stuff.
i know you do.
don't lie.
but,
more importantly, what do you know about four kinds of coconut in one cookie?
nothing?
no problem.
allow me to introduce my wheatless coconut macaroon snowballs, y'all.
flour, flake, sugar and oil, all coconutty,
\and all in there waiting to be tasted and appreciated.
round rocks of rice floured freshness,
with a perfect blend of sweet and salty and sensual succulence,
truculently treading the limits of expertism with every bite.
that's a thing.
and also,
because i know that my neighbors in the woodsly goodness go gaga for 'em,
my version of no-bake bombs, for everybody else to lose their sh!ts over.
coconut, oats, peanut butter, cocoa, melted chocolaty chips, the works.
i'm about that treat life, friends,
and i know what's good.
for instance,
those sprankles.
yeah.
it's a F*ing holiday, and it has a color-scheme.
i mean, c'mon.
it's bad enough pruple found it's way into autumn,
but let's not let it get involved in any crimbo times, ok?
word up.
*
there's more, of course, but i feel like pacing myself.
i've got so much to do,
and i'm totally out of time to do it.
i gotta run, now,
and get some other other sh!t underway.
it's all really happening,
a bigger than big picture,
a larger-than-life little lonely life,
which sure seemed so insulated and isolated,
until it stretched past the edges of the frame that contains it.
i'm busy.
i'm battered.
i'm bruised.
and there's sooooo much more ahead.
this is it,
and it doesn't seem to show any signs of slowing.
real life unfolds and the pace picks up,
until it's an anti-origami undoing revealing secret missives
on the paper that's been doing double-duty as an invisible blueprint.
complicated either way?
i think that's the recipe for being expert;
never quiet, never soft.....

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