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Archive | July, 2013

Don’t Let the Dark Side Ruin Your Nameday, Harry Potter.

31 Jul

Today is Harry Potter’s Name Day, but he’s dead, right? Instead, I will tell you about the time I was tasked with making a chocolate birthday cake for Professor McGonagall.

You are probably wondering why a powerful wizard of the Light Side would task a muggle with making a cake. The answer is: I have no fuckin’ clue. Prof McGonagall said she would give me a sock and not kill me if I made her a cake. I’m not sure why I would want a sock, but I didn’t want to die; therefore, I decided making her a cake would be in my best interest.

The Epic Adventure: Making a Cake

Very early in this epic adventure, I made the mistake of an apprentice baker: I burned the fuckin’ cake. This burnt cake was clearly the work of the Dark Side. I needed to call upon the help of a higher power, for the witch, McGonagall, would surely have my head if I presented her with a burnt cake.

To call upon the forces of good, I went outside and found the steepest cliff within miles of my oven. I whispered “Valar Morghulis” as I jumped off the cliff, but Falcor caught me on his back right before I splattered on the ground into a million muggle pieces. I told the luck dragon about my burnt cake dilemma, but he was on his way to help end a story that he thought, “would never fuckin’ end”. Falcor dropped me off with someone he thought could assist me: the Goblin King (AKA: David Bowie).

The Goblin King tried to entertain me with dance magic, while he played with a crystal ball, but this didn’t help with my problem. Just as I was starting to get really panicked about my imminent death, Eric Northman was in front of me holding the still-beating heart of the Goblin King.

After Eric consoled me with his sexy sex, he told me that if I held the Goblin King’s heart while chanting “Live long and prosper” I would not burn the cake again. With Eric’s wizard spell, I was able to successfully construct a chocolate cake for the she-wolf McGonagall. She was pleased with my offering and let me keep my life.

Check out the pun, bitches. Bitchy witches love puns.

Check out the pun, bitches. Bitchy witches love puns.

I will never forget what I learned during my epic journey, which can be summed up in one epic quote:

My favorite part of this movie was when Bill Compton put on the sorting hat.

My favorite part of this movie was when Bill Compton put on the sorting hat.

Epilogue

After Falcor finished off that really long story he came back to chill with me. However, he was soon summoned to take care of another problem: white walkers. Falcor and I slayed all of the white walkers, restored peace to the realm, and stole a super shiny ring from some hobo-like creature that referred to the ring as “my precious”. We pawned the ring for booze money and got wasted. It was the bestest day ever.

FYFI: Luck dragons need a fuckton of booze to get wasted.

This is the greatest work of Harry Potter fan-fiction ever. Tell your friends.

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Cookies and Broken Homes

25 Jul

I had to move out of my two-bedroom apartment and into a one-bedroom apartment when I got the Big D. (In this case, Big D means divorce, not huge dick. I wish there were a huge dick involved. By huge dick I mean penis, not someone who is acting like a big cock.)

I had a few fucktacular friends who helped me move all my stuff, so I made this cookie cake for them.

Cookie cakes make divorce so worth it. 

Cookie cakes make divorce so worth it.

I put a smiley face on it, so everyone knew we were having a good time.

Contact me for Divorce Party catering.

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Holy Fuck! Lollipops Have a Day of Their Own?

20 Jul

Candy is awesome, and food on a stick is totally tits. One magical day some awesome person declared, “Let’s put this shit on a stick!” That person was George Washington Carver. That dude made a lot of awesome shit.

To celebrate this shittacular day, I made some lollipops of my own. Writing words backwards is hard, but I figured out a way to do it. I’m a fuckin’ genius.

"REDRUM" backwards is "MURDER".

“REDRUM” backwards is “MURDER”.

Writing inappropriate words normally makes for a great afternoon, but writing them backwards is fuckin’ lame.

George Washington Carver would be proud of how far the lollipop has come since he invented it in 1989.

George Washington Carver would be proud of how far the lollipop has come since he invented it in 1989.

Pedo-Pops

I wanted to make a few extra special lollipops for a friend. She likes Rilakkuma, which is a cute bear with an improper past time. The literal translation of Rilakkuma from Japanese to English is “bear who fucks kids”. Seriously. “Kuma” means “bear” , and “rilak” means “sexual with children”. You are probably wondering why the Japanese have a word for such a strange creature. All creatures need a name, even sick, fucked-up creatures that shouldn’t exist.

I used a Pedo Bear candy mold to make some lollipops with the child-loving bear on it. These lollipops were immediately coined “Pedo-Pops” by another friend of mine. (If you are counting, this means that I have, at least, two friends: one who likes Pedo Bear and another who was so excited by the existence of Pedo-Pops she fizzed herself.)

These are about the size of a child's head. The perfect Pedo Bear size.

These are about the size of a child’s head. The perfect Pedo Bear size.

Learning is Fun!

This is actually Pedo Bear, and Rilakkuma means “relax bear”. It’s fun to fuck with people who like Rilakkuma, and say he is Pedo Bear. Also, stop believing everything you read on the Interwebs, twat.

One more thing: George Washington Carver probably didn’t invent the lollipop. However, I did use some peanut butter to make these, so he was with me in spirit when I was making Pedo-Pops.

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Pro-Cake

18 Jul

Whenever someone asks me about my stance on abortion, I confidently respond that I have a moral obligation as an American to be pro-cake. I don’t care if you are pro-choice or otherwise, as long as the discussion, decision, debate, abortion, filibuster, and /or rally ends with a sweet slice of cake.

To celebrate my friend’s decision to remain pregnant and shit out a beautiful, baby covered in her vagina particles, I made her a red velvet cake with cream cheese icing.

Veganize that shit: Replace the eggs with VeganEgg, and the cream cheese and butter with your favorite vegan alternative. I am not aware of any vegan buttermilk that is commercially available, but making your own is so fuckin’ simple. To do this, put a cup of your favorite vegan milk and 3/4 tablespoon of vinegar in a bowl, mix it up, and then allow that shit sit for about 10 minutes. The mixture will curdle a little bit, and then you know that shit is ready.

Holy Shit! A baby! But more importantly? A cake.

Holy Shit! A baby! But more importantly? A cake.

Cake Decorations

I can’t draw, so I bought some creepy, plastic babies to decorate the cake from a craft store that only had the choice of white or black babies. I know, some of you are thinking, “That’s racist!” But it isn’t, and I will tell you why. There are the only two types of newborn babies: black and white. All human babies are born either white or black, but some of them grow into other types of babies (ex: Asian, Hispanic, Canadian, etc). This is not common knowledge among people who haven’t given birth to a baby that didn’t turn out white or black. I always learn so much from my visits to ultra-conservative craft stores.

Here's a close up of the creepy cracker babies. DAT ASS!

Here’s a close up of the creepy cracker babies.
DAT ASS!

Original Idea

My original idea for this cake was to write “Don’t forget to eat the placenta!”, and put a gruesome pile of afterbirth in the middle of the cake. Eventually, I decided that this might be too gruesome and people would be afraid to eat a cake made in the image of afterbirth.

Lawmakers should threaten poor women with this idea. It would go like this:

Conservative, law-making dude: Poor women of child-bearing potential, especially minorities, we know sex is great, but if you get pregnant we are going to force feed you a cake with afterbirth drawn on it.

Poor women of child-bearing potential: Ew. We don’t want to eat that, so we will abstain from sex.

Sounds like a pretty fuckin’ effective birth control method to me. It’s at least as effective as abstinence-only education.

You’re welcome, ‘Murrica.

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Pussy and Cakes: My Badass Life as a Baker

11 Jul

The Interwebs already loves cats and diabeetus. I happen to be in a great position to satisfy the needs of the Interwebs, since I enjoy baking and I have a few cats.

Here are a few things I’ve noticed about cats and baking:

1. Cats don’t give a flying fuck about baking. 

Unless you are making a cake composed of yarn, cat nip, and ribbons, cats couldn’t give any less fucks about baking.

This is Stinky, and she doesn't give a fuck about mini cupcakes.

This is Stinky, and she doesn’t give a fuck about mini cupcakes.

2. Cats are great at passing judgement on a horrible confection.

I tried to make some diabeetus-free fudge for my father, but it turned out to be super disgusting. It may have been the worst thing I’ve ever made. The cats were sure to let me know with disapproving stares, turned backs, and gazes that scream “WTF”.

All the cats came out to tell me that I'm a failure as a baker. I'm glad I always have their support.

All the cats came out to tell me I’m a failure as a baker. I’m glad I always have their support.

3. Cats will want your undying attention while you are baking.

Of course, as soon as you give them your attention they will immediately run off and take a nap. Cats are cunty like that.

Bear was trying to get my attention while I was making an ice cream cake, I told her to fuck off, and she retaliated.

Bear was trying to get my attention while I was making an ice cream cake, I told her to fuck off, and she retaliated.

4. Even through all their cuntiness, cats are inspirations to baking.

All that cunty behavior gets me in the mood to bake something fucktacularly creative.

Seriously, there is cat fur in everything I make.

Seriously, there is cat fur in everything I make.

5. Cats provide the secret ingredient willingly.

Everyone had a good laugh at the previous cake’s message, but there’s always a bit of truth in every good joke.

Too much fur in your cupcakes and everyone would catch on to their game. Cats are sly lil' fuckers. 

Too much fur in the cupcake and people would catch on to their game. Cats are sly, lil’ fuckers.

Side Note: I can very easily tell which cat’s fur I’ve  just pulled from my mouth. After I find the culprit, I walk over to the cat, present the fur to them, we knowingly smile at each other, and part ways.

Take Away Message for Fellow Bakers

If you are a baker, you better have a cat or four. If you don’t have a cat, your baking probably sucks.

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