FAT BUTTS!!!

unless you're seriously awful, or amish,
you know what's good in these streets.
that's riiiiiiiiiiiiight.
shoutouts to that butt emoji!!
🍑
a.k.a. the juicy peach.
a.k.a why was that an o.g. emoticon?
practical applications
anybody?
that's peachy? you're a peach? that's weirdly old-fashioned for modern technology.
dudes,
i've never used the peach emoji to actually mean peach until yesterday.
maybe if i'd lived in georgia, it'd have come up sooner?
that's all irrelevant,
because NOW is the time for butt pie!!!
check the teleport:

PEACH PIE!!!!!
guys,
i have made exactly one previous peach pie,
and it was rubbish.
underripened peaches, creamchee', i think, and no-fives to the outcome.
years later,
and with the focus on butts,
i think i channeled the proper shinto spirits,
and summoned the momotaro magic,
an made something SO dope that i ate a third of it before i even realized what i was doing.
yup.
much like real-life juicy butts,
i was effing hypnotized by the powerful pull of those peaches.
...and easy?
it came together as effortlessly as it went down!
like,
i almost don't have anything to report on how to make it.
the classic Folk Life flake was in effect for the crust.
-
combine, in your trusty and important food processor:
2 1/4 cups flour;
pinch of salt;
10 T very cold vegan butter;
4 T tofutti creamchee';
3 T sugar;
2 tsp vanilla;
non-dairy milk, 1 T at a time, until it clumps and remains sdhered to itself,
wrapped and refrigerated for at least an hour, but preferably a whole day.
word up.
-
rolled and stacked and cut out into all the flowers and petals,
plus a braided edge just to ensure maxxximum sexxxiness.
yup.
i doo-doo that pretty princess sh!t whenever it's pie time.
don't make ugly pies, kids,
i mean, why would you do that?
-
ok,
so, the crust was ready,
and the oven was pipin' at 410℉,
and all that was left was to add the filling....
BRO,
i made the filling the day before!
yeah!!!
exxxactly 8 peeled and pitted fresh sliced ripe peaches,
stewed in 1/2 cup powdered sugar, 2 tsp vanilla, a literal pinch of salt,
and two tablespoons of organic cornstarch, stirred up to prevent clumps.
on lowish heat, until it all started to glop and blop and bubble just a bit,
at which point, i tried a slice, and it blew my mind.
that's when i knew i'd done it right
no mind = good peaches.
i let that chill out overnight,
and baked the hell out of that sweet baby for 30 minutes.
also,
because i am trying NOT to be an A*-hole all the time,
i spread a baby glaze of agave, to affix raw sugar sprankles on top.
too much is the right amount.
y'can't be out here making sad-butt pie.
that's not invited.
***********
so it turns out, i really like peach pie.
and that's lovely.
unfortunately, that's the last bit of good news i'm likely to have for a few-
the next three days are s'posed to be scorchers up here in the woodsly goodness.
which means that allll the vacationing inconsiderates will be around,
just in time for my absolute least favorite time of year:
BIKE WEAK.
(ummmm, no, actually- i'm pretty sure i spelled it right.)
ugh.
all the worst ones.
all the worst ideas.
all the most crowded roads.
what's lamer than a group of dudes all waving to each other with form-fitted dü-rags?
a hundred groups of chaps-wearing chaps eating ribs and crushing breskis,
literally everywhere you look.
yuck yuck YUCK YUCK!
here's a fun fact about the tattoo shop:
if you ask for an unadvertised discount, you definitely don't get one.
but,
if you're also indulging in a vacation that totally inconveniences
every single non-motorcyclist in the entire state?
uh-oh.
that actually costs exxxtra.
hahaha.
yup.
it's the weak-sauce leatherman diaperbaby tax.
and it's kind of a thing.
so,
i've got no-fives for bikers,
and shoutouts to everyone else who stayed home this weekend.
it's all really happening-
the weirdest week, the sausagiest fest, (literally and figuratively)
and the hottest afternoons of th year-to-date.
it's all really happening,
and here i was wondering why my dinnertime vibes were so way off last night.
hard styles and hot food.
fat butts and juicy peaches.
bikers and bummers and big action in-between.
this is What Is,
and there's nothing much more;
never quiet, never soft.....