Voltaire et Brownies


I got a hankering for brownies today.  Sadly, I did not have the energy to take a shower and change out of my pink pajama pants, and I certainly didn’t want to be dirty pajama girl in the grocery store, going to buy a box of brownie mix.  So, instead, I baked a batch from scratch and got on Facebook.  The same friend who shared Frankenstein Drag Queens from Planet 13 with me yesterday had shared another song today.

Today, the song he shared was Voltaire – Death, Death, Devil, Devil, Devil, Devil, Evil, Evil, Evil, Evil Song.

No, really.  It is.  And it’s also fabulous.  Now, unlike FDQFP13, I am familiar with Voltaire and I love him.  I won’t go into detail giving you his bio.  You should just check it out here.  I’m a fan of primary sources, and also – confession – I just do not have the energy to write much or well these days.  Hence the reblogging of my tattoo artist’s Facebook shares.

I should be ashamed of myself.  And yet…Nope.  I’m just not.

Anyhow, check out the song, then make some brownies from scratch.  All the cool moms are doing it.

Homemade Awesome Sauce Brownies…Squeee!

24 T (3 sticks) unsalted butter – hey, I never said these were good for you.  Just that they were good.

3 c. sugar

1 1/3 c. cocoa powder

2 t. vanilla

6 large eggs

2 c. flour

2 cups add – ins of your choice

1.  In a medium sauce pan, melt your three artery-clogging sticks of butter.  Once they’ve been successfully disincorporated into a quivery mass of greasy yellow sludge, whisk in your sugar, cocoa and vanilla.

2.  In a separate bowl, beat your eggs like they just stole your car and pooped in the back seat.  Do it.  Get all that aggression you’ve been saving out.  Makes you feel better.

3.  Now, pour the chocolate mixture into the eggs and beat all that hot mess until it’s indistinguishable.

4.  Pour the aforementioned hot mess into the bowl that you should have assembled previously, which contains your flour and add – ins.  Today, I chose chocolate chips and shredded coconut, because I’ve completely given up on myself and I no longer care what the calorie content of anything is.  You might want to go a different route.  Walnuts and a few souls of the innocent, perhaps?  It’s up to you.  That’s the beauty of this recipe.  Lets you be creative.

5.  Now, if you don’t want to clean anything up when you’re done, too bad.  Because you’re still going to have a sauce pan and some bowls and utensils dirtied.  But you can lighten your load by lining a 9×13 inch pan with parchment paper before dumping the batter in it.  If you’re just hardcore like that, and you don’t give a fuuuuuuuuuuuuck, then go ahead, player.  Just spray some Pam in there.  Or lube it up with some KY.  I really don’t care.  Don ‘t do any of that if you want to scrape your brownies out of the pan with a chisel.  That’s fun too.

6.  You’re almost done.  If I can do it, so can you.  Just pop those brownies in a preheated oven (350 degrees) and bake for about 30 to 40 minutes.  When a toothpick can penetrate their beautifully moist surface and be withdrawn clean as a Mormon teenager, then it’s time to pull them out.  So do that.  Then try to control yourself.  It’s going to be hard, because they’re going to smell good.  But think of them as the underage girl that works at the chicken hut.  Hands off a little longer, there, killer.  Just lean in real close and sniff them every once in a while.

When they’re Kool and the Gang, go ahead and eat those bad boys.  And watch some Voltaire while you’re doing it.

Love you, WordPress.

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Frankenstein Drag Queens From Planet 13


I just wanted to share the song that my husband is currently growing quite tired of.  A friend of mine shared it on his Facebook this morning and I loved it.  That’s right.  I didn’t just like it.  Loved it.  I looked up a bunch of their other songs on YouTube and didn’t care much for most of it, but this one just combines the elements of punk and a soft enough version off Wednesday 13’s voice that it hit my ear perfectly and I can’t stop listening.  Although my husband wishes I would.

To quickly update:  Babies are growing.  I’m growing.  I’m growing tired of being pregnant.  Think my pelvis may shatter at any moment.  Anemia exhaustion is unlike any exhaustion you’ve ever felt.  Still can’t see out of my left eye.  I no longer have calves or ankles.  I just have cankles.  Or hocks, if you prefer that image.  My OB thinks I’m going to go into labor before the scheduled C-Section, which at this point would be A Okay with me.  My cats have been acting weird and hovering over me for days.  I’m hoping it’s a sign that I’m going to go into labor soon, although I think it’s more likely that I’m just more aware of the presence because we’ve cut back on their food-per-feeding amounts in an attempt to curtail the mess around their bowls.  We just feed them more often now, with less in their bowls at a time.  Because they are actually not feline at all – they are pigs.

Okay.  Enjoy the Drag Queens.  They didn’t get me bright eyed and bushy tailed this morning.  That’s just an impossible task.  But they did kind of give me a little happy spike.  So I hope you enjoy them as well.  Bye Bye.