She baked cookies for her sons when she got mad,
When they were finished she then would feel glad,
Her two children would eat these ire filled treats,
Full of sugar and fury they would take to the streets,
With their tummy's full of fuming baked goods,
Causing nothing but trouble they soon became hoods,
Just like a junkie who can't quit his drugs,
Those darn kids grew into a couple of thugs,
One son robbed banks the other was a bookie,
The lesson, of course, is don't bake anger cookies.
This silly poem is part of an idea for a vegan cookbook that I've slowly been working on. The idea is to have a book of silly, food related, stories and delicious recipe's for vegan junk-food. (Two subjects that are dear to my heart.) Yes, it's true. The Unknown loves to cook.
Do you love to cook? Do you love it more when someone cooks for you? Do you want to leave some love?