ROCKBLOXXX

neighbors,
it's cookies that i love.
for real.
and not just any cookies-
i'm talking about MY cookies.
yeah.
the number one chief rocka,
the boomshakalakas,
the rumpty-dumpty bump-shakin' baked greats that really get it
going on and on and on until the break'a-break'a dawn jauns-
oh yes, yes, y'all-
i'm talking about albie rock bloxxx.
yep.
and when i make 'em,
i tend to really get into it, and get after it, and get busy with my big business.
check the teleport:

c'mon.
that's expert.
and if they're not your thing, that's cool.
you just failed the taste test.
however,
you aced the bad-taste test so rejoice in your doo-doo butter,
while we snack up on all those flavorful discs of hottness and oats an' that.
word up.
original coconut oatmeal chocolate chippers are so flippin' good
that i freak out about 'em all by themselves and terrorize a trio right off the jump.
so when i dip half in dark chocolate,
and then bifrost-blast a rainbow bridge across my victuals
with that asgardian sprankles activation?
that's valhalla for my mouth.
mmmm.
therefore, if i add cocoa,
and make chocolate coconut oatmeal chocolate chip cookies,
i've effectively upgraded the chasis, for a more luxurious model.
that's worth exclaiming delight,
or at least adding confectioners stencils indicating as much.
that's right.
that's be plenty, if i wasn't so obsessed with taking things too far.
but i am,
and too much is the right amount......
so i mixed in some peanut butter, as well.
yuuuuuuuuup.
peanut butter chocolate coconut oatmeal chocolate chip.
with cross hatching made of chocolate.
seriously,
you're excited, am i right?
dozens and dozens, dished out while the rest of y'all were dozing.
that's my thing.
i want to maximize my time,
i want to maximize my results,
i want MORE of everything,
and that goes double for cookies.
rock bloxxx aren't for nibblers,
and they aren't for single-cookie indulgers, either...
if you don't want at least three,
you clearly don't understand what a rock block IS.
would you like to know HOW these blocks hapen?
okay:
two sticks of butterish,
2 cups of brown sugar,
a cup of applesauce,
a tablespoon of vanilla,
half-a teaspoon of salt,
a quarter cup of maple syrup,
crushed coarse oat flour, plus rolled oats, and/or whatever kind of oats you'd like,
coconut, pulverized, and coconut, flaked,
plus lots of flour, like at least three cups....
so you've got around four and a half cups of flourish stuff,
plus teaspoonfuls of baking powpow and baking soda....
once all that is ready,
then you can freak it off with chips or chunks or bumps, or blops,
or whatever else,
and chances are, anything you choose is the correct decision
it's fast and loose,
and it's open to input from the makery bakers who F* with 'em.
that's what's so effin' expert about my method-
going farther, taking it further, and then continuing a few steps past the edge
will only ever reward you with even more elite treats,
provided you make them from golf ball-sized balls,
and bake them at 375 F, for like 12-13 minutes.
hahaha.
*
maybe i need an appointment book?
or a day planner?
i think i'm misusing my time.
otherwise,
how do i explain always being awake,
but not getting nearly enough done on any given day?
an improved efficacy in my application of energy and effort;
that's what i want.
i s'pose more than four hours sleep would be required for that?
losing four hours to fugue has got to be worse than sleeping an extra two.
that's simple math.
i want to get just a bit more accomplished.
i think i'd actually rest easier if i did.
uh-oh.
that's a chicken-egg scenario, isn't it?
well, that figures.
i mean,
i don't ever really mess with either of those things,
and i'm willing to bet that's the unmessed-with answer i'll reach however i approach it.
womp womp.
wide awake, and not-asleep.
those are the two states of matter in the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
it's a haunted house, of sorts,
but,
i think it's simply all the uncounted sheep that are bleating inside the walls.
hordes and herds and flocks of unfinished fleecing,
turning stiles and hopping the fences between day and night.
that's what's up, and also, i'm what's up,
and that's early and late.
my lids are heavy, and my bags are packed, underneath my eyes,
and my opposite-angled almond eyes?
they're open, because sleep is not a thing over here;
never quiet, never soft.....