Since half my neighborhood knows better than to answer the door when I'm standing on the other side waving a Ziploc bag full of something I made too much of, I've now taken to poisoning everyone on the Internet, one by one. Though I once labored to appear to be the type of person who'd sooner choke on her own greased fist than consider spending $20 on Aztec cocoa, I must now reveal that I am indeed the type of person has considered spending $20 on Aztec cocoa, and that my heart paliptates when a link to a new fudge recipe shows up in my inbox. I have no photo documentation of me scampering off to the kitchen to boil up a pot of wholesome homemade candy, and then boxing up a hunk of it and mailing it off to the fudge recipe link sender, who appears to be made of terrycloth, only half expecting that a terrycloth person would actually eat something that came from someone who's basically a total fucking stranger. However, I now have evidence that said fudge was graciously received and cleverly rehabilitated without the use of marshmallow paste. Please to enjoy: MONKEYFUDGE!