ROCKBLOXXX 4LIFE!!!!

i got my cookies.
neighbors,
i got 'em.
and i got 'em good.
oh, yeah...
and when i say i got my cookies?
i mean that in all seriousness.
yup.
rock bloxxx.
my cookies.
i can't stay away from this recipe for very long.
...they are my favorites, after all.
and every single time i make them,
i remember right away why i try to wait a while in between batches-
because too much is the right amount,
especially when it comes to the bloxxx.
yup.
three is the minimum serving size.
and multiples of three is more than likely the actual level of consumption.
they're too temptingly tasty,
and they just go down so smooth,
you take a bite, and the next thing you know,
you're six deep into a binge of fresh-baked barbarianism.
no, no hyperbole.
that's real.
so,
i take a few weeks off from the berserker battle-bloxxx-rockin' beastliness,
and give my psyche time to psych itself up for another 'nother round
of cookie monstrousness.
dudes,
i mean it.
i could do some real damage to my whole body,
without even meaning to,
if these cookies were always available.
and the thing of it is-
i have the means to make that a reality-
the ingredients, the recipe, the wherewithal, and the drive-
thankfully,
some small self-preservation instinct usually asserts itself before i
stir up another 'nother couple of dozens of these crucial baked greats,
and shark-glutton myself into a less-recognizable corpulent blob of humanity.
yup.
awwww, don't worry, guys-
i doubt you have the same trials with self-control and portion control.
you'll be fine if you crush a quick trio, i'm sure of it.
-
not everything i make is always expert,
but rock bloxxx are a long-standing labor of love,
and if anything is worth a sh!t in this world i wallow in?
uh-huh.
it's these.
check the teleport:

wordimus prime.
i used chunks AND chips.
rules is rules, man.
we can't be out here with the weak-A* diaperbutts, can we?
i wouldn't recommend it.
at least,
not if we're lookin' to activate these cookies as well and truly as they deserve anyway.
they seem so unassuming.
just a bunch of stacks on stacks on stacks.
but, that first bite will bring you into the fold, friends.
coconut?
check.
oatmeal?
check.
brown sugar?
check.
vanilla bean paste?
checkity check check.
mmmmmmmmm.
do you want to make these?
ok.
here you are, here you go, and you are welcome-
-
* 
ROCK BLOXXX!!!
-
1 cup brown sugar;
1/2 tsp salt;
2 tsp vanilla bean paste (sub vanilla);
1 stick + 2 T vegan butterish;
^creamed together, and whisked up with:
3/4 cup applesauce;
3 T maple syrup/agave.
to that sloppy mudslide, you'll be adding:
2 cups a.p. flour;
1 tsp bakey powder;
1 tsp bakey soda;
1/2 cup fresh ground oat flour- from old fashioned rolled oatmeal;
AND
1/3-1/2 fresh ground unsweetened dry flake coconut;
AND all the chocolate chu]ips and chunks you think you can fit.
YEAH!
make that into dough, yo.
you've made cookies, you know the drill.
roll out golfy ballers and flaten 'em a bit, too,
so that yo can bake the for 13 minutes,
at 375F,
and then enjoy the holy-ever-lovin'-livin'-sh!tballs outta every last bite.
-
maybe you won't like them at all-
maybe you don't even like the sound of them.
is that you?
i hope not,
but if so,
congratulations,
you're definitely an A*-hole.
***********
my back is still on the outs.
what a huge bummer that is.
i'm hobbled and humbled and a little humiliated
by my inability to move with efficiency.
i'm limping around,
trying to get things going,
trying hard to keep things positive,
and trying harder, albeit unsuccessfully,
to impose the power of will on a very steadfast won't.
ouch.
i've lost a week, and that's pure sh!t.
i haven't taken a single second to sit around, though.
that's be like giving up.
my body is just going to have to figure out how to heal on the fly,
because there is very simply to much i want to get done.
and on top of all that,
i'm over here pigging out on a pile of perfect cookies.
jeez, sometimes, i even impress myself.
i'm wrenching out in every way, and i wasn't even paying attention to it.
my infinite natural tendencies are competing
with the finite tendons and tensions of my physical form.
you  think you've chosen the wrench, kids.
but,
really, when the dust settles and the smoke clears?
it's the wrench that always chooses you;
never quiet, never soft....