Friday, January 22

building upwards

3100 blogs later,
and would you just take a quick look at what's going on over here, please?
i mean it;
just for a little second,
check the magenta-type teleport:

c'mon, neighbors!
that's pretty F*ing elite, right?
i'm sayin',
it's NOT just me that's psyched up on that tarty cakey pie-ay-ay,
is it?
because i thought i might be effing up, and getting amped over weak sauce.
i must be losing my grip a little.
no, really.
how else could i be unsure of that red raspberry turbo-hottness right there?
on the ones,
that's the crumbliest coconut flour, caramel coconut sugar, and coconut oiled
lemon zested, lemon juiced crumb crust i've ever had.
i tried a new thing, and i used lemons and coconut and nothing else.
......and it worked really well.
i've got my signature lemon chee'cake sitting on that,
with a dash of lemon oil, a spritzing of lemon zest, and a splash of lemon juice,
to tarten up that tight smooth creamy cake-pie,
but that's sitting over the red raspberry big action!
fresh raspberries, dried raspberries, and raspberry jammie-jam,
all jumbled together into a reddish-pinkish pulp,
with so much body, it's almost ready when it's only halfway ready!
it's thick.
that's what i'm telling you.
is that enough?
how could that be enough?
it's a lot, that's true,
but a lot is never the end of it over here.
it's just the beginning.
we've got homemade triple raspberry lemon-juicy pow-powdered sugary
jam-laced vanilla-bean-kissed compote on top,
coated with a zipzap of zest, because that sh!t is the best......
and even then, we're not finished.
i made sure that it went way up, all the way to eleven, naturally-
with creamy frosting swirls along the outside edge.
that's expert.
it's a new flavor, something to stop your tastebuds for a second,
pause the papillae for a sensory slow-down,
and give them a chance to catch up to all that lemon, coconut, and raspberry overload.
of course,
too much is the right amount.
i activated some lemon-coconut cookie hearts,
and laced the leading side with demerara sugar sprankles,
and placed them in a pattern around the top.
i mean,
once you catch your breath on that forsting,
it's another 'nother sprint into the splurging surges of shark-gluttony.
rules is rules after all.
fancy treats.
i need to make them.
it helps me meditate, in a way,
and pair procedure with professional appreciation and cultured creativity
in a triumvirate of sweetened sugar-rushed finished-product pride.
i made it,
and i can see it,
and i can eat it,
and it looks and tastes great.
when that's what's up,
i feel better.
i built it up,
i'll chow it down.
it's all really happening-
letting food be my medicine,
and overdosing each time i administer it.
warrior poetry is a vision quest, kids.
get with it;
never quiet, never soft.....

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