Friday, August 5

augustus bloob.

wild blueberries are everywhere up here right now.
and i mean, like, everywhere.
my yard has low bush small guys,
and tall bush big balls,
and all along the roadsides of the woodsly goodness,
there are little sapphire spheres doing what they do best.
which is, of course, to say that they're delicious, dope, and super expert.
in keeping with the season,
i decided to do up some blueberry treats,
and let the hottness of a cool chee'cakey cup
make the next couple of days and nights all a bit bluer,
but somehow still a whole lot happier.
check the teleport:

that purple perpetration is distracting, duders.
on the ones,
i have to come clean and say that i love blueberries,
but that purple stuff is NOT my favorite color.
don't misunderstand me, now-
i rep a purple shirt like nobody's business,
but when it comes to blueberries,
they're only antioxidated on the skin,
but they're pure jimi hendrix within.
awwww, man.
the bottom half of anything worth snacking on has to be expert.
those are words to live by.
graham crackers, coconut, vanilla, soymilk, and vegan butter.
that's the stuff.
two full sleeves of those crax, and a handful of unsweetened flakes,
with a TON of butterish, melted, and drizzled into that dusty bowl.
i pressed 'em into shape,
and baked 'em in a muffin tin for 11 minutes at 350F.
that's it.
it's the INSIDES that really turn it up, though.
half a cup of fresh blueberries, 2 tablespoons of crushed freeze-dried blueberries,
a generous squeeze of lemon juice, a quarter of a lemon's zest,
one and a half packages of vegan creamchee',
1/2 cup powdered sugar, 1 tsp vanilla, and 2/3 cup tapioca,
all slowly softened up together over low heat,
until the purpliest pulp of creamy, dreamy, gooey, no-bake magic
was fully ready to set up and go for it.
that's what's good in the 'hood these days.
i got you those freshest-of-fresh-picked bloobz on top,
offset by surrounding swirls of powdered blueberry-activated creamchee' frosting,
all of which was ferociously elevated to a new high-water mark by a liberal
application of powdered sugary sprankles.
too much is the right amount,
and sexxxy treats are the kind i need to eat.
it's the season for it,
which means it's the right time to doo-doo that freaky sh!t;
more personally compelling:
baking up the goods helps me organize my thoughts,
and make sure that i'm on track.
on track?
yeah, man.
i've got to keep the tasty treats happening,
so i can continue to achieve more-refined skillsets with my skillets
and remain inventive, within my steady stream of invectives.
y'feel me?
i'm on a path, here.
a trek into a signature vegan style of foodmaking and baking
that is defined by my continued productivity.
thinking is rumored to be doing something,
but honestly,
you can't eat thoughts.
productivity is key.
my respect is reserved for the doers, duders.
and i can't rightly do the opposite of what i'm saying, can i?
no way.
that's not the way of the worthy warrior poet-
we only tell true stories about really real life,
and only because it's all really happening-.
rules is rules.
and that's the whole point.
i've been leaving work early these days.
i don't mind it so much.
i mean,
i'm still working six days, i just bounce before last call at the zipzap shack.
no way am i shirking a damned thing.
i do the work, i tattoo the people,
and then i rush home to crabtree.
i kinda HAVE to.
without a dog-watchin' partner around,
my little dog needs plenty of one-on-one added and extra attention,
and really,
we both need the exercise.
he could be left longer, but that's not very cool,
and it feels irresponsible not to accept and assume the responsibility
that is tacit with pet ownership.
i get up in the night, i get up in the morning, i go out on the walks,
and i feed the little F*er,
and in exchange, he keeps me too busy to mope around.
we have a relationship, y'know?
he's my dude, and i'm his papa-dad.
the big guys watches the little guy,
and vice-versa.
i suppose it's a fortunate symptom of an unfortunate circumstance.
we do what we do, each according to his infinite nature;
never quiet, never soft.....

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