Have you unbuckled your belt? Put on those loosey goosey I’m-in-for-the-day sweatpants? All aboard who’s ready for some sinful goodness cuz I’m not apologizing for any fatty foods beyond this point. Or shitty pictures, of which there are an abundance.

I’ve tried fresh figs before, but they just weren’t my jang. Now, dried figs are something I can get behind. They’re cheap (99 cents store rocks the shit), super portable, and toot-sweet for those not-to-be-ignored sugar cravings that flood the blood vessels come 3:00. Or is that just me? If you’re a dried fig virgin (and please pop that cherry soon for your tastebuds’ sake), just imagine the whole shebang of fresh figs without any of the weirdness. Oh balls, my description sucks.

Let’s try again, shall we? Crunchity crunch from the seeds, chewy gooey skin texture, date-like blow-ya-mind syrupy sweetness. Spread ‘em with peanut butter and it’s like a pb&j in yo mouth, except, you know, not. Unless you want to make a dried figgo pb sammich, that’s totes your call.

Salty & sweet is my favorite flavor combo in the vegan universe so I kinda go apeshit when I have these. And do I really have to herald the glories of peanut butter to you people? For those who have truly been living under a rock (say hi to Patrick Star for me) go to the nearest store, nay, to the sweet old grandma next door, and beg for a spoonful. Tell them it’s for a charity: PWPB (Peope Without Peanut Butter). Everybody stops asking questions when it’s for charity, particularly those of the mysterious abbreviation ilk.
Ok, so please don’t do that. Just plop your butt on the couch and spread some peanut butter on one, two, or, heck, the whole bag of dried figs. The peanut butter monster inside you (kinda like the tooth fairy, but stickier) will thank you.

In today’s news report regarding Emily’s sanity, I think posting every weekday is giving me the cah-RAY-zees. (See how I just switched between third and first person there?) The spazz factor on my posts has increased exponentially and it’s a bit inaprops. Let’s just stop right here and thank, I dunno, the big hypothetical man in the sky for weekends. Vegan MoFo bloggy break, yee!


