Saturday, April 2, 2011

Cakes....


I'm going to start this blog off with a short story from my past:

I don't know if many of you know this but in high school I didn't have many boyfriends. In my entire life I have had two. I really wasn't interested in the first... I was young and just wanted to say I had a boyfriend.... The second, I moved in with and am still dating.

However. In between these two boyfriends my friends and I would make "singlism" cakes.

Yes.
It was a way to make us feel better about being single.
Yes.
It was a way to feel loved when we felt we weren't.
And yes.
It worked 99.9% of the time.

Because while we baked these cakes we were able to re-discover the pure love we had for eachother. The pure admiration, adoration, and fondness we had for eachother. We would sit and eat that cake while we watched movies and felt sorry for ourselves and sometimes cried.... But I don't have a single sad memory of these times. The times we made the cakes. I only remember laughter.

We don't make those cakes anymore because well. They were almost always baked at my house and I now have a boyfriend. So... The cakes have become a little obsolete. However, we still manage to bake everyonce in a while. Most of the time we make brownies and cakes for parties cause it's easier then buying a present (who doesn't like cake? AND you always have a funny story to tell with it. ALWAYS)....

SO... Back to the present.

Today is a party for a good friend of mine. She is turning eighteen years old and I'm super excited because (being as I now live in California) I don't get to go to many of my friends birthday parties.
So. Before the party I had planned to take my wife (.... Anna.... She is this adorable little girl who was a freshman when I was a senior.... I asked her to marry me and now we are "married"... She's in my phone as Wifey... This is legit stuff here) on a Seattle outing because I promised her I would. It's a tradition.

Hold on...

Sorry I had to rifle through my party bag from an eight-year-old's birthday party... For gum. I was still chewing on the piece from my Rain-Blow Pop (which, btw, is not as good as BLOW POPS... Just sayin) silly me...

Anyways. We made this plan to pick up my friend Kate from Seattle Pacific Lutheran University (Spu) and go to the erotic bakery (Only in Seattle) to buy an erotic cake for our friends party.

You see... We were joking about in front of the birthday girl and she got really excited so we decided to get her the cake. She told her mom. Her mom got all pumped and said she wasn't going to get cake because we were bringing a cake but... The cake we got was tiny (I mean one of the biggest cakes they had there.. But still small...)... So we decided to make another cake at a later date.

So..... Let me start at the Erotic bakery...

After screaming and yelling for about fifteen straight minutes as I drove around looking for this place (which we had found by accident the first time) and Kate yelled at the GPS (which wouldn't work) and Anna cried in the back (Just a normal car ride with Berlyn)........ We finally found the bakery. We parked and walked towards it. All wondering if we would get carded and Baby Anna would have to wait outside...
But they really could have cared less... They would let ten-year-old boys buy boob and vagina cakes.... But I would too... I would also give them a full BAG OF CONDOMS! * So... No judgement.
Anyways. We stood looking at the rotating cakes debating on how much we wanted to spend on this cake. We ended up getting the biggest cake with the penis of our choosing (I think we were suppose to get a black one... But we got a tan one instead.....) and told the man excitedly to retrieve it.
He responded:
Those are big enough to write on... I could write something like "happy birthday, now blow".
He listed a few more but we decided we liked:
"You can have your cake and eat him too"
So that is written on the cake.
As we payed.... The man returned and asked:
"Now the real question is.... Would you like Cum?"

You can guess how we responded.

So. We had cake one. And it now sits comfortably in one of the many fridges at my house (I sound like a hillbilly...). I wrapped it up all nice and stuff.

Anyways.
Last night I had Kate and my other friend Katie over. Now bear in mind. We HAD to make this cake. The other one was not big enough to feed a party of 30 people.
Kate will deny this but... I WANTED TO MAKE THE RECTANGLE CAKE PER USUAL.... She wanted hearts.
So.
I started cooking. Katie made the frosting (by hand, pretty cool). Kate sat with my injured dog.

By the end of the night. This cake looked terrible. It was three layers tall of broken hearts and slowling falling apart. AND.... We didn't have enough frosting....
So.... As we started pouring the frosting on the cake we began panicking. It was falling apart even more.
I was hyperventalating. Katie had given up entirly. And Kate was trying to save the cake.

This cake looked god-awful by the time we put it in the fridge. God awful. But we decided to give it to them anyways... I mean... It tastes good.

So.
Today... I got up early. Went to my sister's horseback riding (she's so talented :) I love her so) and froze to death while wanting to punch my mom in the face for being on the phone with my aunt THE WHOLE LESSON... Urg pet peeve.

Then I went to a birthday party at a gymnastics place... My littler sister was invited but the horse-back-riding one joined in on the fun too. This was a group of eight-year-olds and younger.
I felt incredibly out of place and cold...
But... Then I was offered pizza. And met a ten year old who could make balloon animals! (Where was he when I was ten? Seriously).
I was offered a cupcake but I resisted as I sucked on my blow-pop and rocked in my chair.

Yes.
Children stared at me.
Yes.
I was distracting.
And yes.
I did get a goody bag :)

Then we came home and I showed my mom the cake I made last night.
I wrote on it in icing.

"Cake? Happy B-Day. Love U"

True poetry. I am a writer you know...

OH! And I poured sprinkles on it.

It still looks like shit. But... Hey. It will definitly shock, horrify, and send people into fits of laughter.
But isn't that the goal of most of my work? Lets review.

Halloween film: BOOBS, Boobs, and naked blonde girls.
Visual Design project: Creepy Julie's stealing babies.
48-hour film: A murderer and another murderer who is also a necropheliac compete over an alleyway and a girl and are eventually joined by family-man/killer Sam.

Yes. I think this is a re-occuring theme for me.

Anyways. I'm going to go get read for this party ordeal... I need to write a card and make the cakes look presentable and then drive off in my Honda with a trunk-full of tires.
.... That's a story for another blog...

-Berlyn

P.S. I think I should do a vlog of this entire blog in a british accent... Yes?
P.P.S. Happy Birthday Elisa. This one's for you :)

* The bag of condoms joke has to do with the fact that when I went to the clinic the other day... The lady asked me if I wanted a few condoms. Normally I would have responded: Naw, I'm good thanks. But this time I responded: Oh! Yes! Thank you! Nearly forgot.
I figured she'd pull out a jar and let me pick three or four... You know like lollies.
Wrong. She filled this paper bag to the brim with condoms.... And I'm sitting there like: What the hell am I supposed to do with all of these condoms? So... Now I have a gigantor bag of condoms and no idea what to do with all of them (I know. Half of you are like: Have sex. DUR. Well smarty pants I can have sex if my boyfriend lives in another state.... Besides who uses that many condoms that quickly?).... So I'm trying to make joke about them. I'm failing. But I think I have a new script idea.


2 comments:

  1. At least I tried to save it...

    ReplyDelete
  2. Haha yeah... Well... Lost cause I suppose.

    ReplyDelete