all caked out in battery buttery best-case barbarian bars?
neighbors,
i'm not trying to allow anything less than taking it to eleven
to happen inside my preheated ovenly arena for this entire flippin' year.
yeah!!
check the teleport:
the peanutty butter made the cakes just a little teeny tiny bit crumbly,
but a smattering of two sizes of chocolate-style chips held 'em together
like the burly bricks of better-than-you-deserve that they clearly are.
that's a good start, guys,
but the object is always MORE.
so,
i whipped up some creamy peanut buttery creamchee'-cut cocoa-laced
smooth-as-you-please superthick and turbo-elite frosting filling for 'em, too.
and then i drizzled a dark chocolate ganache like tiger stripes of warpaint.
actually, it made them look like rectangular bee butts,
but that's pretty flippin' cute, isn't it.
awwwww.
yes, it is.
anyway,
that wasn't enough, either.
so there's even more frosty freshness goobieblopped on top of each one,
and then,
just because i know the rules-
there's shaved german chocolate sprankles, for extra added awesome.
expert is the name of the game up in here, y'all.
and that's the only way to keep it really real, and Folk Life luscious,
while the temperature is terrible,
and the wind is trying to kill us!
i'm not going to die of tundra destruction,
because my guts are heated with these rectangles of absolute hottness.
that's no joke.
the furnace is fired up, in my basement,
and also in my heart.
my blood is boiling and my fingertips are icicles,
but there's cake enough for everyone,
and that's good news for people who like that sort of thing.
i bake, i break, i give, and i take.
it's all really happening, friends,
and that's the whole point;
never quiet, never soft.....
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