Friday, June 26, 2009

On Michael Jackson, And Cake


The coffee euphoria has kicked in hard this morning, folks, so I’m gonna ride this gravy train as far as I can until I collapse into a puddle of uncaffeinated nothingness in approximately 45 minutes.

Unfortunately, I also don’t have a topic this morning, so you’re just going to have be flexible (yeah, that’s what your mom said last night).

First off, holy shit Michael Jackson is dead! Granted, being born in 1982, I kind of missed his heyday of epic music production. And granted, being raised in a household where classical music was the ONLY type of music played, I kind of didn’t even really know who the guy was until I was about 14. Sad to say, I can sing The Queen Of The Night Aria from Mozart’s The Magic Flute (in German) with more confidence than I can belt out Thriller.

But…I was witness to many, many playing of ABC from The Jackson 5 while imbibing at Rutgers frat parties, and I saw those Korean inmates perform Thriller on YouTube, so suffice to say, I’ve had enough exposure to Michael’s music to recognize that his death is a great loss to the music industry (despite his personal record of inappropriate behavior with little boys, which is seriously fucked up)

So, RIP Michael Jackson. May your heaven be filled with life-sized statues of Peter Pan and merry-go-rounds and talking giraffes and all that other weird crap that floats your boat (but no minors – even in heaven, that shit is seriously frowned upon)

Moving on…

Can we take a second to talk about cake?

More specifically, how delicious it is?

When it comes to cake, and baked goods in general, I have no self control. The only way I’ve managed to keep from becoming whale-like in proportion is to not keep the stuff in the house, and exercise significantly more than I would like to.


I've been told before that I look like Martin Luther King Jr, but I just don't see the resemblance...


But at work, I’m completely defenseless. I’m bored, sluggish, and just looking for an excuse to get up from my desk.

Enter: cake.My coworkers like to bring in goodies. More often than not, some sort of baked, iced amazingness is sitting on the counter when I come in in the morning. The same counter that I have to pass by every time I need to go to the bathroom or talk to one of our Program Managers.

It’s a scrumptious recipe for disaster.

I swear to god, even if I WAS a cake, I’d still want to eat cake.



It's all fine and good while I'm a pre-pregnancy 27-year old with good genes, but this affinity can only end in a horrendous pair of thunder thighs and a matching ba-donk-a-donk.


If anybody knows a priest who exorcises cake demons, send him my way (lol, did I just say cake demons? That’s awesome)

And thank fucking god it’s Friday, right? I am WAY too fired up to be trapped in a cubicle (aka, the fuzzy, modular walls that depression built). BRING ON THE WEEKEND! I’ve got some big plans including catching up with an old friend, attending a food and wine festival (do you think there will be cake there?!?) at which my mom and her fiancé will meet Brian’s parents for the first time (Gah!), and a going away party for one of Brian’s close friends.

In other words, an ass-ton of plans. I’m not a big fan of weekend plans (the couch gets lonely when I'm not around), but whatevs. I have a cute green summer dress to wear, so it’s all good.

Happy Friday, Bitches!


10 comments:

Organic Meatbag said...

Happy Friday to you too, you skank of epic proportions1 Sorry, I don't really think that of you, it's just that you called me a bitch and all with the "Happy Friday, Bitches" line...
anyways, I met your little challenge on my blog, your 10 questions thingy... I think I am the first to step up to the plate and do it...so I am patting myself on the back...and the ass, which is just weird...

carrie @ brick city love said...

Thanks to you, I now have the Queen of the Night aria in my head and I can't even pretend to reach those high notes. Thanks. Thanks a lot.

I too have met your challenge but my 10th picture, while topical, isn't nearly as fabulous as yours.

PorkStar said...

The whole MJ shocked me, really... but i went to see Dane's Cock, I mean, Dane Cook last night and I forgot all about it...

Why do people get fat on cake and I dont? If I were your co-worker, I would suggest giving me that cake and watch me eat and attempt to get fat...I would fail misserably I'm sure, but the cake would be gone completely.

anya said...

I make a mean cake. Yep.

ps. I only met half your challenge. What can I say? I tried and failed miserably.

phairhead said...

Happy Friday to you too, Biz-atch!

My mom owns a bakery, I get cake anytime I wants. Jealous?

jeanette said...

I often feel sad for my couch as well... it's like leaving a puppy alone. But completely different.

Whatever.

P.S. I love this post like a fat kid (or myself) loves cake (or this post). I can't be sure.

Mom2Peach said...

Mmm....cake. And seriously, after we heard that story about how a certain skinny bee-yatch brought in the remnants of her 10-year-old son's birthday cake because heaven forbid she eat it when the rest of us slovenly pigs can wallow in its cakey goodness, I realized that the gods want us to have more daily calories than we were designed to consume.

Emily said...

Me too. For everything. And I sort of hate PorkStar and jeanette.

Haley said...

Cake is so delicious too... I wish I could eat it everyday! Without developing a roll around my belly. =\

canto1951 said...

Your problem is you were raised by a father who is the most awesome cake-baker north of the Rio Grande! I think subconsciously you are constantly searching for the cake that will equal those fabulous childhood birthday cakes! (BTW--I'll bet he'd like to meet Brian's parents, too.)