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.
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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The Foul-Mouthed Baker 