Brown sugar saver

I recently bought some dry water kefir online. I soaked it in brown sugar water for 4 days now and it's still sweet. Should I change water now until it's sour or should I wait until it's sour and go straight into first fermentation?? What is a sign that the first fermentation is complete?

Look what i found in Manchester!!!

Cinnamon Spiced Apples
makes 6 cups
Ingredients
1/3 cup sugar
1/4 cup packed brown sugar
1 tablespoon cornstarch
3 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg
6 large Granny Smith apples, peeled and cut into eighths
1/4 cup butter, cubed
In a small bowl, mix the first 5 ingredients. Place apples in a greased 5-qt. slow cooker; add sugar mixture and toss to coat.
Top with butter. Cook, covered, on low 3-4 hours or until apples are tender, stirring halfway through cooking.

Hi, so I 21f so about a year ago I was diagnosed with focal awareness seizures, prior to that I had them for a few years every so often, it was do rare when it happened I thought it was something else so I never got checked out. But now that I have been diagnosed, I go through episodes where I'm fine for a while then all of a sudden, boom. Multiple seizures, multiple a day, pretty much every day. They're the weirdest experiences. I see dreams/deja vu, and it feels like my blood is vibrating inside my body and it feels like as if my entire body if over a fire roasting and I smell chemicals and get very sick and usually have to go potty after, they such but sometimes theyre pleasant, like once I was in my basement and I saw my basement but it also looked like I was in ancient japan, it was so vivid and detailed. So im thankful they're always somewhat beautiful and not scary. But I'm currently going through one of those waves, I have been having them every day for almost a week at this point, yesterday had about 7 the day prior I had 14 or 15, and the days before that I didn't keep track but I knew it was at least 3, it is 8:20am where I live and I've had 2 so far and I'm fighting off a third one. I can only fight them off for so long before they happen. After the day where I had about 14 of them I noticed my taste changed, everything taste really sweet like there's brown sugar on it, and that would sound pleasant until your eating something like shrimp and all you taste it sweetness. And it's not even a normal sweetness either its, off. But because of that I haven't been eating because everything taste bad, I'm forcing myself to eat some strawberries right now but they taste like strawberries after you throw them up, sweet, but like, idk acidy I guess, it's just unpleasant. I have upped my medicine dose (advised by my dr) and it hasn't helped much, I have an appointment on the 5th to see him so we will see if he can help me. But until then, does anyone have any recommendations to help try to stop or reduce the seizures and possibly any food recommendations for when your taste gets altered like this? If you read this far thank you so much for taking the time to help, I genuinely appreciate it. Thank you 🥺

I met Luna on a train two years ago. I’d just escaped from a toxic relationship, so romance was the last thing on my mind, but then she sat across from me in the carriage and asked about the book I was reading. She had a copy in her bag and wanted to know if it was any good.
I'd never felt such an instant, effortless connection with anybody before. I took a chance and asked her to dinner, and by the time the waiters cleared away our desserts, I already felt comfortable being vulnerable around her. So we went on a second date. And a third. And next thing I knew, we were planning our second anniversary.
In all that time she never gave off any 'creeper' vibes. Until a few months ago, when I stayed the night over at her place...
She'd gotten up early to use the bathroom. I grabbed her laptop off the side desk so I could catch up on some work e-mails, and the incognito tab was just sitting there. My first thought was: either she's having an affair or she's got a secret fetish.
What I found instead was a Google account with a photo album called ‘Michael’s EX’. In it, there were 427 photos of my former girlfriend turned psycho stalker, Sadie. This included shots of ‘Sadie the stalker’ with her family, screenshots of her passport—the works. On Facebook, Sadie's latest post said Moving to the Philippines, and since then she’d become a social media church mouse, so how did Luna keep her under surveillance? And how did you even get PERSONAL ID from a person halfway across the globe?
Down the hall, I heard the bathroom door swing open. Quickly I closed the laptop and pretended to be asleep until Luna planted a kiss on my lips. “Wakey wakey Bugs.”
I faked a stretch. “Morning Lola."
(At school, the other kids christened me ‘Bugs’ because of my cartoonishly large front teeth; I called Luna ‘Lola’ because of her blonde bangs and heart-shaped face.)
“How about we grab a fry for breakfast?” Her smile didn’t seem genuine, more like she was wearing a mask.
“Crap. I forgot I’m doing overtime today, I’ve gotta get to work.” With that, I shot out of there faster than a bullet train to Tokyo.
Because I didn’t wanna believe the worst about someone I cared so deeply about, I didn’t contact the police (not that anybody could’ve guessed what Luna was up to) and made excuses whenever she asked to meet, delaying the decision whether to end our relationship.
At night, I couldn’t sleep. Every time a hedge rustled outside, I’d run to the window and pull back the curtain only to discover a black cat skulking around the garden. I put this down to my previous relationship leaving me with a mountain of unresolved PTSD.
Sadie the stalker also seemed normal until we moved in together. After that she started picking fights if she caught me talking to another woman, even just distant relatives or childhood friends. The screaming matches went from weekly to nightly, only ever ending when I conceded to her every wish and gave her full access to my phone and social media accounts. I literally needed to grab my clothes into a bag and run away one night, and then I started hearing noises outside my new apartment. And although I never found any evidence, I was pretty sure she’d broken in at one point because the books on my side table were suddenly out of order one day. What hurt the most was Luna knew all this and still acted the way she did.
Right as I reached my lowest point, my close friend Gertrude called and said, “The universe is telling me you could use a sympathetic ear.”
I told her the universe didn’t know the half of it.
I’d met Gertrude—aka my surrogate mother—on a flight to London. Passing over Wales the aircraft hit heavy turbulence, and the grey-haired hippie in the seat next to mine squeezed my hand so tight that my fingers turned blue. After we levelled off, she apologized and said, “So what’s calling you to London?”
“A job.”
A few glasses of wine from the service trolley later, she blurted out, “You know your aura is strikingly similar to my husbands.”
“Uhh, thanks. Where is he now?”
“Oh, he burned to death in a house fire.”
Gertrude’s eyes started welling up. To take her mind off the subject, I said, “I lied earlier. I’m going to London because I fell in love with a Londoner.” I pulled up pictures of Sadie (back in her pre-stalker days) on my phone. “We met in Italy. She looked flustered trying to read a map book so I offered to help. Next thing I knew, we were planning a trip to this place called Orvieto.”
“Michael, I need to know how this story ends. Gimme your number.”
Since then, we’d met two or three times a year.
I laid the whole mess out over pizza. It was the first time since finding the Google account I didn’t feel hidden eyes crawling all over me.
Just as I wrapped up the story, over in the corner booth, a family burst into a chorus of happy birthday. A waiter appeared carrying a chocolate cake, capped by a giant candle that looked more like a flare. Gertrude tensed up.
“So what do you think about all this?” I asked.
She looked back at me and said, “It’s possible your reaction has been a touch on the dramatic side.”
“DRAMATIC??”
“Well consider things from Luna’s point of view. Your last relationship lasted for, what, three years? Maybe she felt threatened.”
“I don’t believe this.” I grabbed a cigarette from my pocket, but Gertrude snatched it away.
“You know how I feel about you poisoning your lungs, Michael.”
“Don’t you start. I got enough of that crap from Luna.”
Gertrude always encouraged me to work through my romantic problems. Ultimately, I decided her love of fairytale romances clouded her judgement and ghosted Luna instead. But I couldn’t escape her shadow. She always felt close. In fact, it got so bad that at a friend’s costume party several weeks later, my eyes kept compulsively scanning the crowd as if she was there in disguise, ready to pounce.
I stood off to the corner until, over the sea of heads, I spotted a beautiful stranger dressed as Jarlath the Goblin King. I took a shot of liquid courage and made a B-line towards her.
Halfway across the crowded room, beer splashed across the front of my Ziggy Stardust outfit.
“I am so sorry,” a female pirate said, patting me dry.
“Don’t worry about it.” Every time I tried circling her, she moved to cut me off.
“I am such a klutz. Why don’t you come into the kitchen so I can clean up this mess?”
I put my hands on her shoulders and steered her out of the way. “It’s fine. Trust me.”
Approaching Jarlath from behind, heart slamming against my chest, I said, “Well this is awkward. One of us is gonna have to change.”
Jennie had bright blue eyes and dimples impossible to miss. Ten minutes into our debate about David Bowie’s greatest album, I said, “You know Absolute Bowie are playing the Half Moon next week. I could take you?”
“Sorry. I’m going with my boyfriend,” she said with a sympathetic smile. From beside the buffet table, the pirate stared daggers in our direction.
“No worries,” I replied, despite the fact I was brimming with jealousy.
The next day, as I jogged off my hangover, a brown-haired lady cut across my path and we both went spinning to the ground.
“Flip, sorry.” I rushed to pull her up by the hands. “I’m like a bloody zombie lately.”
She did a doubletake. “Ziggy, right?”
There was no mistaking those eyes. “Jarlath?”
“Well, Jarlath or Jennie. Eithers fine.”
“Right. Well, sorry again. Enjoy Absolute Bowie.”
Before I could jog away, she said, “Hey, so that guy I was seeing? Turns out he’s a total prick.”
Jennie and I went for coffee. Coffee morphed into drinks. Drinks morphed into a steamy make-out session on my sofa.
But as she covered my neck in soft kisses, my stomach turned. It felt like cheating. So, I put the brakes on things and said, “I can’t do this. I’m really sorry. You’re amazing, but I just got out of a serious relationship…and…it’s just…”
“Hey, don’t worry about it.”
We agreed we’d let our connection blossom in its own time.
Jennie had a playful mystique to her. Within a handful of dates, we’d developed inside jokes and could tell what the other was thinking. But Luna’s imprint was hard to shake, to the extent I almost mixed up the two ladies’ names multiple times.
To detox, I suggested Jennie and I spend a romantic weekend in the Lake District, because after two days of hiking and kayaking my ex would no doubt be a spec in the rearview mirror.
Hours before we set off, however, Luna’s mom called. She wanted to meet and wouldn’t accept any excuses.
“Look, it’s obvious why I’m here,” she said, sitting across from me in Starbucks. “Ever since you and Luna broke up, she’s been acting…different.”
“Different? Different how?”
“I call but she hardly answers. I go over to her place but she’s never there. Now she’s telling me she needs to find herself. Says she’s moving to Australia.”
Her fingers tightened around her cup. “I need to know what happened between you two. And I don’t care if that paints anybody in a bad light. I’m just worried about my daughter is all.”
I told her about the Google account.
“Did you confront her about it?”
“Hell no. I ghosted that crazy bitc—” I cleared my throat. “I mean, I just…stopped seeing her.”
She started crying so loudly customers at nearby tables paused their conversations. I touched her forearm, promised I’d call if I remembered anything else, then set off for my romantic weekend.
But while Jennie and I enjoyed all that fresh air and pub food, a thought nagged at me. Luna adored London, so why move to Australia? It seemed so out of character. Back at our rented cottage, I was so fixated on the thought I needed a smoke, badly.
“What the hell is that?” Jennie demanded, as she stepped onto the front deck.
I glanced at my hands. “Uhh, a cigarette.”
“Michael! Don’t be sarcastic. You know how I feel about those things.”
“…Do I?”
“Uhh, well it’s the same as anybody else. Quit poisoning your lungs and put that thing out.”
“Alright alright, geeze. Sorry Luna.”
“That’s okay.”
A knot formed in my stomach as she went back inside. I’d called Jennie Luna by mistake. And she hadn’t noticed. In fact, her reaction to me smoking was identical to Luna’s—even the snappy way she said the ‘poison your lungs’ line.
I followed Jennie into the lounge, where she’d curled up on an armchair with a Colleen Hoover novel. She was hiding something. What else did she know about Luna? Maybe I could trick her into revealing some details…
From behind, I started massaging her shoulders. “Sorry for being rude before. I know what you said came from a place of love.”
“That’s okay.”
I waited until her eyes drooped shut, then said, “It really is perfect here, huh? Maybe we should stay forever.”
“Wouldn’t that be amazing?”
Her little groans of pleasure, the rhythm of her breathing, it all felt so familiar. I waited until the tension in her neck dissolved, then I pushed my lips against her ear and whispered, “So how about we take this into the bedroom…Lola.”
“Hmm. Sure thing Bugs.”
My hands froze. Jennie jumped up. “Uhh, that felt so good, why’d you stop?”
“What did you just say?”
“What did you just say?”
“I called you Lola,” I replied, my arms frozen in midair. “And you called me bugs.”
“Like the cartoon, right? I thought it’d be a cute nickname. Anyway, I’m tuckered out.” She forced a yawn. “Why don’t we get some sleep?”
As her hand laced with mine, an image of me waking up drugged and gagged and tied to the bedposts flashed before my eyes.
I said, “Sure. I just…need to use the bathroom first.”
The second the door shut behind me, I flew out of the house, climbed in my car, and sped away.
Within seconds my phone started blowing up with calls, followed by texts. Where are you going? Is everything okay?
No, I wanted to reply. I’m onto your sick little game. Whatever it is, I’m onto it.
Luna stalked my stalker, now Jennie somehow knew Luna and I’s nicknames. How? Did all women take turns drawing straws and whoever picked the short one needed to become my girlfriend?
I couldn’t go home. For all I knew, my exes would’ve been there burning effigies of me. I needed a safe place. Somewhere I could lie low until I got all this straightened out.
“Of course you can stay,” Gertrude said over the phone. “I’m out with some friends, but I’ll meet you later. If you hop the side gate there’s a spare key under the kissing gnomes out back.”
Gertrude lived in a detached house in Wembley. It took a bit of foraging to find the gnomes hidden beneath the weeds in the brown, patchy garden.
I needed to shoulder the door open. Inside, a mountain of letters and flyers had piled up on the welcome mat.
Down the hall, a huge archway connected the landing with a lounge, where a bar sat against the far wall, surrounded by upholstered sofas, a low table, and tie dye sheets strung over the filthy carpet. Everything had a real elegant vibe, despite the musty air.
I’d drained two glasses of whiskey before Gertrude arrived.
“Looks like you’ve had a rough evening.”
I said we could talk in the morning.
“Not a chance. You can’t take negative energy to bed. Come on, confession is good for the soul.”
She sat on the sofa and patted the empty seat next to her. So, with a weary sigh, I shared a tale of deranged exes.
“Crazy,” she said.
“I sure can pick ‘em, huh?”
“No, I mean you’re crazy.”
“What?”
“Think about it. What’s more likely: that your ex’s are secretly in collusion, or you’re being paranoid? Look how bloodshot your eyes are. When’s the last time you got a good night’s rest?”
She made a great point; teenagers on the street occasionally shouted ‘Bugs’ or ‘Thumper’ at me. Jennie might’ve come up with the nickname herself. I pinched the bridge of my nose, groaning.
“Look, sleep here tonight. Tomorrow we’ll brainstorm ways you can make it up to Jennie.”
I fumbled through my pockets for a cigarette.
“Really?” Gertrude said. “If you insist on poisoning your lungs, can you at least do it away from my home?”
“Well if I can’t smoke, I’m gonna need a refill.” I shook my empty glass.
On my way toward the bar, a wave of wooziness hit me. My first instinct was to blame it on the alcohol, but there was something else.
It was her reaction to the cigarette. My finger ran through the thick layer of dust along the bar’s countertop. Why was it like the place had been abandoned? Why did Gertrude always pressure me to stay with my psycho girlfriends? And how come she always reached out, as if on cue, whenever my relationships hit problems? It couldn’t be coincidence…
I poured two glasses of whiskey and carried them to the sofa. “So, you’re really against the whole smoking thing, huh?”
“Of course. It’s a filthy habit.”
“Yeah. Plus, there was that mess with your husband. House fire, right?”
“I’d rather not discuss it.”
“Sure, sure.” I ignited the lighter with a roll across my trouser leg.
Gertrude grabbed a cushion and hugged it. “What are you doing?”
“Alright, cut the crap. What the hell’s going on? Have you been sending your friends to date me?”
“What are you talking about?”
I wrestled the cushion from her and held the lighter beneath it. “I want an explanation right now or I’m torching this place.”
This was an empty threat. I wasn’t some pyromaniac—I just wanted answers. Inch by inch, I raised the flame. “Last chance. Why are the women in my life acting weird?”
Gertrude grabbed for the lighter. As I swatted her wrists away, we both got scorched, and for a moment her skin went wild with spasms, a sensation I can only compare to reaching inside a bucket of wet, writhing maggots. My gaze whipped between her face and her hands, which vibrated like plucked guitar strings.
Before I could scream, she yanked me up, clamped a cold, wrinkled palm across my mouth, and forced me against the wall. I thrashed around, unable to move. For a lady old enough to collect a pension, she was crazy strong.
She waited until I ran out of breath, then said, “Michael, please. I’m not going to hurt you. Open your heart and listen.”
What else could I do?
“You were right before. I have been keeping a secret from you. The truth is, I’ve been in love with you since we met. I’d never flown before. And you were so so sweet. You started talking about this other woman, but I knew our energies were perfect for each other. And it’s like I always say, love makes us do crazy things. You can’t begrudge me that can you?”
She looked as if she expected me to respond, so I shook my head.
“But I think we’ve reached a point where our connection is so deep we can be completely transparent with one another.” She took a slow, steady breath. “Michael, all your ex’s, Luna, Sadie, Jennie. They’ve all been…well, me.”
I stared at her, confused.
She sighed. “It’ll be easier if I just show you.”
Out of nowhere her hand wriggled again, then her face tightened, as though the skin was being stretched over the bone. Wrinkles smoothed out and colour bled into her grey hair, turning it brown, and within seconds I found myself face-to-face with Jennie. Even her vintage clothes morphed into a green blouse and white slacks.
“See?” she said in Jennie’s voice, her now blue eyes locked on mine.
I screamed into the soft flesh of her palm.
“Sssh, it’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. Watch.”
Her entire body jerked and twitched, the muscles spasming as she shifted from Jennie to Luna. “See? Think of these as costumes”—from Luna to Sadie—"the important thing is what’s underneath. And you’ve fallen in love with what’s underneath three times. Now I’m going to let go, but I need you to promise you won’t overreact. Understand?”
On the verge of a panic attack, I nodded furiously.
The second she pulled away I made a break for the exit. The thing posing as Sadie grabbed me and hurled me backwards against the wall.
Like a disappointed teacher, she put her hands on her hips. “I’ve been so patient with you, Michael. So very, very patient.”
She blocked off any hope of escape. I sidestepped around the outer edge of the room, towards the bar.
“All those years moulding you. Trying to grow you into the man I know you can be. I really thought we had it this time. For the record, I wanted to do this the easy way. But drastic times...”
I was so scared I slammed right into the cabinet and yelped. Glass bottles chattered together, and then something wet ran down the back of my shirt. It was whiskey, leaking from the overturned bottle onto the carpeted floor.
Speaking more to herself now, Gertrude said, “I’ll just have to keep you here until you love me as much as I love you. Of course, that means posing as you so nobody gets suspicious, but that’s no trouble. I’ll tell your dad you’re moving to Italy. You always loved Italy.”
Pose as me? She'd been killing my ex's and taking their place, I was just the latest in a long line. She’d keep me as a personal sugar baby if I didn’t escape, but how? She was impossibly strong, and the only thing that seemed to scare her was…
Snatching the bottle, I doused the remaining whiskey all over the carpet and furniture. As I flicked the lighter open, Sadie’s hands shot up.
“Bugs…darling…what are you doing?”
I took three slow, steady breaths. “Breaking up with you, you crazy bitch.”
I tossed the lighter forward. Within seconds flames sprung up all around us, spreading as far as the sofa. Sadie’s shoe caught fire, and as she stamped around, unintentionally fanning the blaze, her body writhed again, starting with the ankles. Fat boils climbed up every inch of exposed skin, milky white and with the consistency of frog spawn, like she’d had a killer allergic reaction to poison ivy.
She dropped to her knees, wailing like a wounded animal. This was my chance.
I made a break for the exit, giving the creature as wide a berth as possible. But as I got one foot planted in the hall something clamped tight around my ankles. My chin hit the floor, then I started sliding backwards.
I twisted onto my back. Where Sadie’s left arm should’ve been, a tentacle-like appendage stretched across the length of the room, a distance of over twenty feet. It reeled me toward her like a fish on a line. Whatever that thing was no longer looked human. It melted like an ice statue, with no bones or connective tissue inside, its lips nose and mouth becoming hideously elongated before dripping off in huge globs like melted candlewax. A fire alarm started wailing as the tentacle dragged me through the flames, scorching my arms and legs.
The loose mass of skin reached out and encased me like a mother bird sheltering its eggs.
“WHY WON’T YOU LOVE ME?” all my ex’s voices screamed at once. Whichever direction I looked, silhouettes of faces rose and fell, as if trying to burst through. Parts of them dripped inside my mouth, disgustingly warm with a bitter taste worse than Vaseline.
I put everything into clawing my way out if there. What was left of the beast had the consistency of wet clay and came apart just as easily. I tore away chunks until there was a hole large enough to squeeze through. Then, I crawled along surrounded by black smoke.
At the far side of the room I risked a glance back and saw a bumpy, uneven hand reaching out of a puddle of ooze. Soon I was crawling over the bristly welcome mat, then fumbling for the door. All I remember after that are paramedics wrestling me into an ambulance…
A specialist officer came to see me at the hospital the next morning. They’d been unable to contact the homeowner, Gertrude Huyton, and through his line of questioning I could tell they hadn’t found her ‘remains’ inside the charred house. Like the wicked witch of the West, my stalker had melted. I told the officer she said I could stay the night, and that I probably started the fire by dropping a cigarette.
“In that case, we’ll keep trying to reach her.” He walked to the curtain surronding my bed and paused. “Oh, and I almost forgot to mention, her cat is missing.”
“Her...cat?”
“Yeah. The little black one. One of the firemen pulled it out of the wreckage. The poor thing had burns over its legs but it ran off before anybody could take it to the vet.”
I swallowed a gulp and thanked him for telling me.
And now I’m still sitting here listening while nurses rush back and forth, terrified any one of them might be Gertrude…

Hey gang. Like the title suggests, I have a 3 pack of Costco babybacks and a Traeger. In the past my rib-cooks have been disappointing - tough, dry, turned to mush, burnt, etc.
What is the most sure-fire way to cook these? I have Killer Hogs Hot rub, plenty of foil and butter. The pellets are Kingsford. Spritz? 3-2-1? Wrap with brown sugar and butter? Simply apply the rub and let them go naked? 225F? 275F?
I don't expect mind-blowing results, just solid ones.

Hello, and thank you for reading this question.
I recently made rhubarb muffins from a recipe online and added 20% less brown sugar than called for (1 cup vs 1 1/4 cups). They turned out fine, though I would have preferred them a little less sweet. Same with a chocolate cake recipe I got from Martha Stewart Kids (don't knock it, it's a great cake). My question is: should I be substituting something else for the sugar I'm removing? What would make a good substitute?
Keep in mind, this is about sweetness, not calories, and I'm not looking for low-cal sweeteners to put in their place.

Plasma catridge(1c), rad sugar bombs (120c) or Adhesive (4c)
Looking for 30k caps of value for weapons without star, 80k if weapon has star.
Looking for 50k caps value for armors, 120k if armor has star
Will bundle for Reflex Sight or Forceful Stock.
Weapons;
AASSS Asssaultron Blade
AASSS Bone Hammer
AASSS Sledge Hammer
AA25ffr15fr Minigun
AASSS Machete
AriE90rw Minigun
Ari40pa90rw Chainsaw
Ari25ffr25 Lever Action
Ari25ffr25 Fixer
Assassin’s 50vhc90rw Pepper Shaker
BSSS Chinese Officer Sword
BE25 Combat Rifle ⭐️
B5025 .44 Pistol
B5025 Western Revolver
BSSS Spear
B25lvc Tesla (No second star)
Medic5025 SMG
Q25ffr50bs SMG
QE15c Tommy ⭐️
Instigating5025 Fixer
B15AP25LVC Fixer
ExecutionerE25 Fixer
TS5025 Tommy
V25ffr15fr Gatling Laser ⭐️
V2525 Pipe Rifle
VE15fr Gatling gun
V40paS Combat Knife
VE25 HM
V5025 HM
Armors;
Cham STR / WWR CE LA ⭐️
Cham AP / FDC Marine RL ⭐️
Cham INT / SENT Trappers CP ⭐️
Cham Poison / WWR FSA LL ⭐️
Cloaking AP / WWR CE CP
Cloaking Fire / FDC CE LA
Life Saver INT / FDC Trapper LL
Life Saver STR / WWR
OE AP / AWR Metal CP
OE AP / CAV Trapper LL
OE AP / Rad Recovery CE LA
OE Fire / WWR Robot LL
OE LED / SENT Sturdy Robot LL
OE Poison / WWR Sturdy Combat RA
OE Poison / WWR Trappers CP ⭐️
OE Poison / SENT Raider LA
OE LED / SENT Wood LA
OE Rad / AWR CE LA
OE STR / CAV Heavy Raider CP
OE LED / SENT Wood LA
UNY AGI / CAV CE LA
UNY AP / AWR Heavy Leather CP ⭐️
UNY AP / FDC Leather RL
UNY Cryo / AWR CE RA
UNY Fire / CAV USA RA
UNY Fire / CAV USA RL
UNY Fire / SENT Heavy Robot CP ⭐️
UNY LED / SENT Sturdy Combat RL
UNY Poison / SENT Heavy Raider RL ⭐️
UNY Poison / CAV Heavy Metal RA ⭐️
UNY Poison / SENT Heavy Metal RA ⭐️
UNY S / CAV Wood RL
UNY STR / FDC Sturdy Robot LL
UNY STR / SENT FSA LL
VAN Rad / CAV CE RL
VAN AP / SENT USA RA ⭐️
VAN INT / WWR Trapper CP ⭐️
VAN Rad / WWR CE CP ⭐️
VAN STR / FDC CE LA ⭐️

I want to make a slightly healthier than normal baked bean dish. Is Domino Golden Sugar (less processed) an okay substitute for brown sugar?

Nabisco Toastettes were far superior to Pop-Tarts except for one flavor. The Pop-Tarts Frosted Dutch Apple was outstanding and I don’t know why they won’t bring it back. I swear, Pop-Tarts will introduce a pig vomit flavor before they ever get off their asses and being back Frosted Dutch Apple. But man, what I wouldn’t do to have another brown sugar cinnamon Toastette! Or the blueberry, strawberry, apple cinnamon, or cherry Toastette. Come on Nabisco, it’s time to get back into the game dammit. And come on…whoever owns Pop-Tarts now, bring back the original Frosted Dutch Apple!

I made this really nice rhubarb bread just a flavored bread loaf and it turned out really good for 2 cups rhubarb I added some extra extra vanilla buttermilk turned out very nice I had to overcook it because I put some tinfoil on top and I did it a little too soon so it was a little undone in the center longer it wasn't as brown as my normal breads are which was awesome. I do good with bread I need help with my decorating cupcakes and cakes I'm trying to get practice under my belt so I can get up with my own business of selling bakery items I do good with cookies sheet cookies like probably not decorated sugar cookies I need help with the decorating coloring patterns that kind of stuff my creativity is kind of under wraps but I'm sure it would be better once I get this tension out of my body and I'll have to learn how to move more be more agile in my hip area groin. I hunch my shoulders forward and so that leaves me kind of like with a frozen shoulder almost? But I'm still strong I'm still proud and I can still stand up almost fairly straight just my shoulders pop forward a little bit. I also am going to be selling bars as in like sheet bars 9 x 12 pans baking dishes. I know I do a good job it's just the decorating and creativity that got me a little flabbergasted that needs a lot of help but step one 1 foot in front of the other keep moving forward Little bit at a time or should I say little chip at a time?

Hello all!! I’m a 26 yr old nonbinary transmasc (or in laymen terms, a trans man) and I am in the business of looking for a romantic partner!!
I’m 5’6” and am overweight. I have a bunch of tattoos on my legs and arms and some facial piercings (nostrils, medusa and septum) and a bunch in my ears. I have short very dark brown hair and a beard. I have pretty dark brown eyes. I wear contacts and glasses because not only do I have the sugar bloods^1, bad eyesight just runs in the family.
I have several hobbies (if you can call them that…) that include playing multiple virtual pet games^2, listening to new (to me) music + audiobooks and reading to name a few. I like to paint my nails (soothing) and makeup (just lipstick mostly).
Besides my flaws of not liking certain textures (my autism is Peculiar) and thinking everyone should have one hill they should die on, I cannot drive. I’ve passed my written exam tho!!! I’m just a weenie hehe.
¹ aka Diabetes, specifically type 2.
² Chicken Smoothie and Flight Rising are my main ones.

This is the third time I’ve made this choc chip banana bread (gf each time) and something like this has happened every time.
First time (no picture) the chocolate chips sank to the bottom, but the cakey part itself was really fluffy. To do this, the batter was a bit more like cake batter. Second time (also no pic) I made it a much thicker batter, and the chocolate chips didn’t sink, but it didn’t rise as much so was more dense. Third time (pictured above) I tried doing an in between of batter thickness, and the choc chips sunk in a weird U shape around the outside.
Next time i’m going to try a cakey batter, but flour and layer the choc chips as I put the batter in the tin, if that makes sense. If anyone else has any tips, I’d love them