for the love of nums
Y’all. I have a girl-date today. Like a first date too. Annnnnnd let’s just say that mama’s a little rusty. Not only have I been too busy raising my three spawns to put much any effort into girl-dating, it takes a special brand of dame to make me wanna go the extra mile and spend time chitting + chatting when I could/should be working or hangin’ at home with my penis posse. But when you basically meet a brunette version of yourself, it’s on like donkey kong.
We’re going to a rowing class, which, in hindsight, maybe wasn’t the smartest first-date move given that we’ll both be sweating profusely. So much for my freshly washed hair and light, yet meticulous make-up (you know, juuuuuust enough to give off the impression that you’re naturally flawless, but not so much that it actually appears you care or that you’re even wearing any – like “Whaaaaaaaaat?? No, my lashes are naturally this dark and voluminous. Like who puts on mascara before a workout?!”). Definitely going with all black attire to minimize any visible boob- or ass-sweat. And screw the natural deodorant – Imma have to bring out the big guns for this one and swipe some Secret on these pits so I’m not schvitzing through lunch.
Truth be told, I’ve never been that good at dating in general. Aesthetically speaking, I was what you might call a “late bloomer”, so confidence was never my strong suit in those crucial, formative, freshman dating years. In lieu of Lolita-esque good looks, I used my smarts and penchant for wildly inappropriate jokes to get me through, even managing to nab a few friends and pull some tail in the process – and by “tail”, I mean hardcore hand-holding. So by the time I grew out the bangs and earned a respectable pair of chesticles, the awkward self-image was so well-ingrained that I still felt the need to overcompensate in other areas. My method of choice for manipulating people into liking me: bribing them with food. Because boobs alone may work for the fellas, but ya gotta bring a little more to the table to score a girl-date.
Soooooooo clearly, I won’t be showing up for this thing empty handed. Since we’re going to a workout class, I figure what better way to cap it off than with (protein) balls in our mouths??
These are super simple, freaking delicious and packed with protein, so we can get our muscle recovery on while we giggle and talk about girly things. I used my absolute favorite vanilla protein powder, Aloha, because duh, it’s clean and amazing. And believe me, I’ve tried quite a few. Most have a funky aftertaste I just can’t get into – probably because they contain stevia or some equally no-bueno derivative. (*Author’s Note: there’s nothing wrong with stevia, it’s just not my cup of tea.) So when I say this stuff’s legit, you can take my word for it. Just toss everything in the food processor and get ballsy.
| Prep Time | 2 minutes |
| Servings |
balls
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Ingredients
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