I can also do this

10 Apr

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I can bake. Yep, it’s true. The above beauties (the picture blows, but fuck it, I am not a photographer) are Oatmeal Strawberry Bread with flax seed.  The brown clumps on the top that look like pebbles of poo, yeah that’s brown sugar, I am not much for aesthetics anyway.

So yes, I can bake and I do it well, at least that is what all of my increasingly plump friends tell me (my fault, most of my baked goods don’t have healthy crap in them like strawberries and flax).  Now readers, I know what you are thinking, “Damn she has a foul mouth and she can bake?!” The truth is yes.  Yes, with that deadly combo, you better believe my husband is one lucky sumbitch (that’s redneck for S.O.B., in case you aren’t fluent).  My baking is especially popular when he takes his sleeping meds which make him crave sweets like Yogi Bear craved stolen fried chicken.

I started baking before I started cussing, so you know what a master I am at the art of the cuss word, imagine how fucking amazing my baked goods are. I love baking for sure. It was something I did with my now crazy grandma on the farm (love ya, Grandma P) since my mom is a horrible baker.  Over the years, I have somewhat perfected several amazing baked goods, including “Liz’s Fucking Awesome Chocolate Chip Cookies” and “Yes, That Was an Orgasm in Your Mouth, Cheesecake.” It is mostly family and neighbors who benefit from my talent/obsession; yes, obsession because I have to get it just right or it goes in the trash.  I am a damn baked goods perfectionist, okay?

In reality, baking helps me clear this cluttered brain of mine. It’s soothing and therapeutic and all of those other ridiculously exaggerative (hey, I invent words now, behold the power of my badassness) adjectives.  Unfortunately, I also like to eat my craft, so that is why the neighbors and kin wind up with it.  My pants do like when I eat sweets. If I didn’t have a job, I would be okay with that since I enjoy being sans pants.

Alright, enough of cussing and baked goods and bragging about myself for one night.

Eat it,

E

P.S. I am also one hell of a cook, but more on my meat later, (see what I did there?).

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