It's 5:30 and there's monkey bread in the oven

Sometime round abouts 3, I found myself in the living room, bored, and with my laptop. One thing led to another, and there was Google, font of random knowledge. Typing random word combinations into Google, I discovered (much as ol' Christopher Columbus did the new world) that there is a foodstuff by the name of monkey bread.

Being the me that I happen to be, specifically, the me that you likely know to be me, I could not help but attempt to construct this amazingly named baked good. Googling about the Internets, I decided upon a recipe from The Pioneer Woman Cooks due to a combination of general recipe consensus and a fondness for the tone of the author's writing.

Having chosen a recipe and (mostly) followed it, here I sit, typing while I wait on the oven. The monkey bread, which I cannot imagine being anything less than 4 Billion % awesome, will be done cooking around 6. I'll probably wait around until the monkey bread is ready to remove from its cake mold womb, pop it out, and leave it for my various roommates to discover come tomorrow.

Tasting reports may, perhaps, follow, though given my posting track record, I would not hold out high hopes.