Since last Monday’s post (Maybe Don’t Read This, Mom), I seem to be getting famous for the wrong reason. Okay, maybe famous is a stretch, but I’ve definitely been attracting a horse of a different, glandular color. WordPress shows me how people find my site and guess which three search engine terms have led the majority of them here? “Boobs,” “tits” and “oiled-up boobs.” I’m not making up that last one. My recipes have called for oil and I was born a woman; I guess that’s enough for Google to group me in with NSFW material. So… why fight it? Instead of preserving my dignity and soldiering ahead with foodie goodness, maybe I should recant last week’s statement (about what I won’t do for fame) and show my adoring public what it really wants to see. Hence, it gives me no pleasure to pander to the lowest common denominator with my newest feature: Mammary Mondays.
Click here, perverts.
Waka waka. There, after Friday’s tirade, I think I was able to reach back into my white trash DNA and find the strands of immaturity. Let’s test them out. What’s green and has wheels? Grass, I was just bullshitting you about the wheels. Relieved sigh. Now, let me feed you sweets with a slightly clever, but totally boobalicious name:
Triple Nipple Cookies
- 1 cup butter, softened
- 1 cup sugar
- 2 eggs (see my Facebook for a story about these)
- 1 tsp vanilla
- 1 1/2 cups flour
- 2 cups oats
- 1 tsp baking powder
- 1/2 tsp salt
- 1 cup coconut
- 1 cup chocolate chips
- 1 cup peanut butter chips
- 1 cup white chocolate chips (the chips are the nipples, get it?)
Preheat oven to 350˚. Cream butter and sugar in the mixer. Add eggs and vanilla. Blend. Mix flour, oats, baking powder and salt in a separate bowl. Slowly add to butter mixture with mixer on low until incorporated. Fold in coconut and chips. Drop by spoonfuls onto parchment lined baking sheet. Bake 8-10 minutes until edges are browned. Move to cooling rack. Enjoy!
I know what you’re asking. Was she serious about Mammary Mondays? No. No, she was not. Does that make you die a little inside? If so, I’m mostly sorry, because these sweater cows aren’t coming out to pasture anytime soon.