Saturday, November 12


i effed up some cake the other day.
i did.
i used excessive butterish and coconut oil,
and the matrix of fatty-boombatty slipperiness undermined
the oven-rise of each and every muffin-top in the tin.
i'm serious.
that rarely happens-
i'm nor bragging about it, i'm just reporting the facts-
and as a baker unused to defeat,
i have to say, i was bummed out.
so much so that i immediately set out to restructure and improve upon
my initial plans for chocolatey-chipped success.
more about that some other time-
i didn't have the heart to waste the bottoms of those dark chocolate failures,
as the cups of cake were lookin' pretty sexxxy-
but their facepieces were busted in,
in all the most beat-up ways.
so i removed the sunken, semi-burnt tops,
and crumbled 'em up into knobbly, fudge-style cakey bits, and pieces.
that's smart.
and i took that and i rolled it up inside of a whole other 'nother treat.
i make mistakes, but i spin them into gold.
it's just the story that's golden skeins of yarn,
pulled from the catastrophes of just being me-
but in this instance, we can all actually eat the dressed-up mess-up.
check it out, via teleport:

wordimus prime, neighbors-
i got that problem solving situation going as well as could be hope for.
i also have these buns making my mouth so happy.
monkey-bread style?
no problem.
yes, it adds another 11 minutes of baking,
also yes, it adds depth and complexity to the caramelization process.
real talk.
what's the recipe?
first, ruin some muffins.
make the dough, bro.
it's like this:
3 cups flour
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 tsp salt
1 T fast acting yeast
2 tsp wheat gluten
+ 4 T butts melted in 1 cup of warmed non-dairy milk,
with 1 T ground flaxmeal
and 2 tsp vanilla
don't make the milk too hot, or you'll kill the yeast.
warm is good; stick with that.
let that rise for ten minutes post-kneading,
and roll it our so you can fill it with 1 cup brown sugar,
creamed with 4 T butts, a pinch of salt, and vanilla, too.
smear that across the surface of the dough,
and then crumble up about 1 1/2/ cup of cake crumbs,
complete with incidental chocolate chips,
and roll it up.
cut it into 10 slices, and stack them up in a 9-10"
greased and floured nonstick springform.
bake that whole baby b!tch for around half an hour,
checking for frequently after the first 20 minutes
for bubbling trouble and browned edges, at 375F.
it's good for you, and it smells amazing.
when it was slightly cool, i double drizzled it up.
yup. 2x the drizz,
for 10x the dope.
a cocoa and powdered sugar combo icing, exxxtra-thick and uber-chocolaty,
and also straight-up pow-pow'd icing,
because too much is the right amount,
and that's especially true of sugar.
maybe not,
but it's still all really happening.
chocolate chip chocolate cake breakfast rolls notwithstanding,
it's been a brutal berserker barbaric blood-boiling cauldron
of werewolfen supermoon savage stormswept wintry winds
and overwrought-iron mettle-testing mayhem these last few days.
i can feel it pulsing and coursing coarsely across the surface of my skin,
and the swollen septum of my broken nose is already practically a snout,
so it's only a mater of sprouting (more) unfortunate fur before i'm
a full-blown disproportionate battle-beast for longer than usual,
and in larger doses than during most months' illuminated lunar tumescence.
that's some sh!t.
mostly, that means i'm a whole lot faster, and possibly funnier,
and more fluently flexing my forced-focus fury
in louder, fresher, and harder styles,
every damned day,
and especially each and every night.
i'm irritably excited;
i'm exuberantly inciting illicit and explicit conversation;
i'm punchy and quarrelsome,
i'm querulous and combative in equal measure;
and it's all unfolding in the brightest version of these interminable evenings.
full moons make for the best of the worst times.
i'm glad i'm barely cognizant of the specifics,
but these generalities have got me considering colloidal silver supplements.
the other silver bullets,
be they gunpowdered,
or worse, a cold can of coors light,
are never options.
this is it.
no thank you.
no me gusta;
never quiet, never soft.....

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