Shake and Bake!

Alright everyone,

I am tired of poetry aren't you? Let's make something! How about the best cookies in the world...I'm still working on a name but I think mud pies will be sufficient for now. Let me know if you come up with something better.

So first, this is an adaptation of an adaptation, of we might as well say another adaptation...all stemming from Martha Stewart, as everything delicious and decorative does.

What you'll need (for about 18 cookies, give or take):

1 Cup Unsalted Butter
1/2 Cup Light Brown Sugar, packed
1/2 Cup of Granulated Sugar
2 Large Eggs
1 Teaspoon of Vanilla Extract
2 Cups of All Purpose Flour
1 Teaspoon Baking Soda
1/2 Teaspoon Baking Powder
1/2 Teaspoon Salt
1/2 Cup Dark Cocoa Powder
1/2 Cup of Milk Chocolate Chips
1/2 Cup Hershey's Cookies-N-Cream Drops

Okay preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

While you're waiting put the butter and sugars into a bowl, it's easier to mix the butter if you let it sit in the bowl all lonesome for about five minutes so it melts a bit. You can use an electric mixer if you've got one, I just used a fork to mash and stir it all up. You want to reach maximum creamy capacity before continuing. It's a great forearm workout *Bonus*

Next, you'll want to mix the two eggs in one at a time (Sorry for the blur, I must've been way too excited). Then add your vanilla extract and get back to that creamy smooth state!

Okay so, in a different bowl, combine your flour, baking soda, baking powder and your salt. You'll want to sift it and of course, my poor ass just used a fork which is just as effective I promise! 

So don't get crazy and dump the dry mix in all at once because if you'll be stirring until the end of time. Stir in small portions and you'll start to see the cookie dough density form, 

which is always exciting for me! If you're a sugar cookie only kid stop here and skip to the baking process. 

Now, if you don't like dark chocolate let me assure you these are not bitter by any means. If you're skeptical or just don't like chocolate cookie dough (I know it's weird but those people exist!) you do not have to add this. I personally can't live without it. Stir it in!

Again, let's say your crazy and you don't like Cookies-n-Cream drops, or you don't like chocolate chips but chocolate cookies are totally cool. Stop here and skip to the baking part. Otherwise....

join the rest of us "normal" sugar addict kids and overload on the goodness :)

Now, a word about these crazy genius drops that Hershey and all the other bars are coming with. You can get creative and use just about any drop/chip combo out there but here are my warnings before you get crazy:

The reason why the drops work so well and give the cookies the cream filled awesomeness is that they don't have the candy shell like M&M's. You can totally make a chunkier version with the actual candy bar but you'll have to buy about three regular sized ones and do a lot of chopping but hey if you wanna chop, chop on. 

So here's where I got lame and completely forgot to take pictures the rest of the time, even after they were done! I didn't realize until they were gone! 

But don't worry visual learners, it's all easy peasy from here!

Take a cookie sheet, if you don't have any parchment paper, no worries, throw some flour on cookie sheet and smooth it all over (just a little bit, doesn't need to look like the North Pole). 

Drop spoonfuls of batter but keep them a couple of inches apart so they don't get attached in the heat of the moment and you have to go and separate them later. Cookies are grudge holders and they will take that sweet goodness straight to your waistline. If you want the "cream filled" kind of cookie just make sure the drops are mostly covered by the batter. 

Bake the cookies for about 15 minutes, could be more depending on your oven but I like them soft and gooey. You'll want to let them cool for a minute after you take them out then put them on a rack (or a paper plate) to cool off. 

Store them in airtight containers and if you want to keep them softer for longer throw a piece of bread in with the cookies.

Any Questions?????

Oh yeah, don't forget to eat them.

:)

Next time I'll show you how to make one of these:

Pale Feet

let's live on the ceiling

the dustless surface.

           

           my hair would have volume.

           my head would blow up.

when it falls to the floor

we won't have to live

in the red mess.

           i'd kick the light

           or trip over the door.

no matter what the mess

we won't have to step in it.

           But we would see it

           when we look up.

how often does one

look up?

           we are right now.

we're talking

about living in it.

Rosy Tomato

An 88 cent bargain
netted sheen sharpie red,
foam topped
jolly giant
great vine green,
with a skinny white rope
to hang by.
Straight to the shower
your coarse red bod
buffed my
white desert span.
Back-forth brushed wet
scraping my skin
ever so kindly.
Even dry you still
carry
cocoa butter aroma
back
to warm water drops.
Drop you to find
your upside down
is right side up
You, Loofah,
Are no tomato gimmick
but a rose of
twisted tool petals
gathered to scrub
beauty
free of dead flakes.

Ode to the Pickle-in-a-Pouch

I was shitting straight vinegar
When I declared in my heavy sweaty head
Van Holten's full of it and
I'm full of you. You
Who claimed to tart and tang me.
You did. But
Don't think
I don't know your
Pickled plan of sour destruction.
Sat your lumpy keester on
a bottom convenience shelf,
Inconveniently catching dust for two
Years stewing up
A pickled pinch of
heavily salted Hulk huge revenge.
Every bite dripped with your bitter anguish.
Weighing in at a serving size of five,
You took the expiration date
To the acidic hell I
munched and crunched you into,
Etched it across my innards
And put me in my porcelain Priam privy.
It is fool's mate, Trojan pickle,
I resign.

Orphic Loaf of Luck

She dreams the aroma
Sweet potato bread baking in the oven
Awaiting the illustrious instant, the full bloom of her beauty
Sugar
Flour
Crust
To be munched by thirsted tongue and cheek

Taste buds groping every privy pillowed pocket
Porous soft sponge fills
And ecstatic crevice of pure cut cold hunger
Each molared morsel of baked batter is swallowed

Slowly to be sure

Every last drop of her enjoyed extremity is
Ravished Consumed

Loaded libido since
Potato peeled
Buttermilk boiled
Spoon stirred
Yeast yell in euphoric enthusiasm
S t r e t c h i n g sWELLing
Into her calescent curvaceous contour

Slow slips of steam sing her seductive siren song
Summoning only those under ravenous sensation's spell
To hear her whispering earful of erogenous exploitation

Untitled as of yet...

In Greek mythology, they speak of the House of Rumour. This house has no walls, only sound waves that are carried throughout the world and end at Rumour's house because she hears everything. The following quote by Bill Cosby and the Greek story combined have led to this poem, which is currently untitled.

"End the name of your child with a vowel, so that when you yell the name will carry." - B.C.




"Where are you goin'?"

She asked her curious and curled apple dumpling,
Wandering far into thicket and field
Away from mother's buzzing house of tall tales
And dying fact.

Hands beaten by tall grass curtains
Short ottomans of thigh high bushes.

She runs too fast for mother's sweeping ears.

Wind whipped and watered eye trail decamp to
Mist leaf and blade with the soaking sonnet of privy.

The tear drop turned dew drop chorus
Fills Rumour's ears of chaotic commotion.

Sounds settling, leave no soft murmurs of
Ambition's mud soaked footsteps.

A Sip for a Nibble, a Jab for a Stab

The cannablistic comportment of stars
Likes their food
Hot
Both in toothsome touch and taste.
Gravity holds his tongue
As the last noodle is sucked dry.
Cue the brown dwarf.

I am
Syrup smog of black tar underneath the fifteen car pileup you
So carefully caused
Suffocating you
With a reminding force of why we stop at red lights.
Laugh.
It's the only way you'll get past that six digit figure.

You enjoy the commemoration which I enjoy
Of wine
Of whine
And of wane.

I am
Nicked magnifying glass
Slow churning weapon of choice for your countless ant massacres.
They pass the gasoline torch that is their arm.
Recall
Igniting the revolution that is their colonial independence.

I am
The earache your mother's affectionate astral vocal chords can never absolve.
Leaving your ear canal with the strangled burn no q-tip can itch.

You are
The crack in my waffle cone letting the dreams of my mudslide delight drip away
And you've misplaced me in the Black Rock Desert.

I am
Desolate dog that has found his one pound of joy for the day.
You are
Delectable rat that has given me rabies.

A life for a life is suitable.

You
Are the snore that continues to rock the coffin of my composure while
I
Am the vexatious burn that hugs your now flaccid neck
As we swing to the tune of end's song.