Brownie bombshell

Ok, yeah yeah, it's called cake days. And I'm cupcake. I got it, I'm basically a bakery whore. Easy to please, just shove some sugar in my mouth and I'll be happy. But seriously, we have to talk about these brownies. I will get the recipe if I have to hold that poor woman hostage or kidnap her children in the process.

So this woman brings me brownies at work. Belated birthday sentiment. Possibly she's an obsessive late night baker like in Grey's Anatomy. Who really cares. I was given brownies. That's one of those shiny silver lining moments in life.

Slightly before a lunch meeting, I'm already starving. The brownies are sitting behind my desk, but I can tell they are beckoning me quietly, like sugar-laced Sirens. I begin to imagine that I smell them, and finally I can't take it anymore. I scrounge up a knife, do the good coworkerly thing and offer the other girl that she can have a little if she's hungry too. I eat my little piece and fall straight down the rabbit hole.

I'm hooked. The brownies might just as well have been laced with crack. There is no going back now. I will never again be able to eat a cheap grocery store brownie. This is what heaven would taste like. As per Twitter, I would ask for these brownies to be my last meal before my execution, and then request that my execution was conducted by burying me alive in more of these brownies. Of course, I would eat my way to freedom, and the death that followed would probably suck, but I would have gorged on my weight in brownies at that point and would cease to care. I would leave this world in ecstasy.

My husband was allowed to try a little of the brownies when they came home with me tonight. He is the typical laid back, understated guy who rarely shows excitement over everyday things. I knew exactly when he tried the brownies though. He came running out from the kitchen yelling "Oh my GODDD!" He then ran up to me and planted a HUGE kiss on my mouth and asked "Where did you get those?!?!" I believe his explanation for how good they were involved learning a new yoga move that allowed him to fellate himself to remove the brownies from his member, even if he snapped his neck in the process. Obviously, we're a well-matched couple if we both relay how good something is by the way in which we would lay down our lives to obtain more of it. Morbid, maybe, but descriptive, most definitely.

So yes, I will hunt down this woman and obtain the recipe if it's the last thing I do. I will leave the recipe in my will to whoever is worthy enough to receive its legacy. Hell, if I really do die before I polish off the remaining batch, I'll leave the brownies themselves in my will. It will be the most anticipated item on the list. I will probably tell my (hypothetical) children about these brownies one day. Cake my ass, I'll take these brownies all day every day.



**The "crack" hyperlink is worth the click-- classic Dave Chappelle. Also, my husband wishes that everyone understand that a teeny bit of embellishment might have occurred to his description of the quality of the aforementioned brownies.