Parfait, mom-may? — Chocolate, Baileys and Strawberry Parfaits

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I’m horrible at giving gifts. I don’t know what anybody wants and what a “thoughtful” gift is. If you want a card, though, I can be meaningful as fuck and write you a sonnet that will make you sob.

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Don’t be triflin’ me — Chocolate Raspberry Trifle

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I was originally going to open this up with some cute and beautiful paragraph about how gorgeous and lovely and wonderful the summer has been to me. You know, those kinds of openings that make you think of sandy beaches, bonfires, warm friends and cool beers?

Well sorry, hi hello and welcome newcomers to the anti-baking-blog baking blog. Summer in New Jersey has been nothing but freezing cold rain, sweaty humid days interspaced with me still having to wear a goddamn light jacket outside and IT’S JUNE JESUS CHRIST NATURE GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER.
I’m a 23 year old woman!! My life is basically unorganized, chaotic and inherently stupid but baby weezus, you’re making ME LOOK GOOD AND THAT’S SAYING SOMETHING.

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I like it (almost) raw, baby — Strawberry-Blueberry Raw Vegan Cheesecake

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So I went out drinking last saturday. (Is this ever a surprise anymore??) But this time I went out to NYC with Whiskey! I haven’t really gone out too much in NYC, and this was also the first time we went out together as sisters. Aaaand it was fun! Except not really, because it was kind of hard for me to get my honey hunting game on with my sister and all of her friends watching me make out with strangers, no less.

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In September Drinking — Horchata

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Get it? Get it guys? Look, I’m being witty and linking my blog post name to a real song by Vampire Weekend! For those of you who don’t want to click on the link and watch a video a 22-year old linked you (can I blame you?) the song is just called Horchata, and the chorus (is it the chorus??) is “In December drinking Horchata”.
I mean if you really think about it, it’s kind of ridiculous considering according to the never wrong encyclopedia, Wikipedia, it’s a summer drink… and well it makes sense. You drink this shit cold. Trust me, it’s kinda disgusting when it’s hot. it’s sort of…. jizzy. am I allow to say that on the internet or am I going to be throw into super jail?

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Because some things can’t be translated — Serradura, or Sawdust Pudding

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I’m pretty proud of myself. I woke up early the other day. That’s right, you heard it here. I woke up early! Woke up at the good hour of about 12pm. At least, that’s what I think. The earliest text I sent that day was about at 12:09pm, so I’m guessing 12-ish is correct, figuring I have to work in the time I spent playing phone app games, checking my snaps, and pining over boys who will never love me on facebook.
It’s a hard morning routine, I know, but somebody’s gotta do it.

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