I guess you'll have to make do with just the roses, Jessica P.
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Cake Writing 201: "Congratulations"
"Alright, class, take your seats. We're going to need extra time to review yesterday's quiz, since once again you have all failed to meet even my lowest expectations. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, considering you each barely scraped through Cake Writing 101 - yes, even you, Doug, so stop looking so superior. How you all expect to be professional cake decorators when you can't even spell the most common cake word after 'happy' and 'birthday' is beyond me. Seriously, what do I have to do? Spell it out for you? Oh wait, that's right: I ALREADY HAVE!!
"Laura, so help me, if you run blubbering to the bathroom one more time I am going to fail your cotton candy rear faster than you can say "contralulations". Which, incidentally, is what you wrote on your cake:"
"And Laura? What in the name of all things holy is UP with that apostrophe? Does Ronan belong to Contralulation, whatever that is? Oh for goodness' sake...here, take a Kleenex. I don't see what you're crying about, though; I'm the one saddled with teaching you bunch of imbeciles.
"Ah, Chris, I see this isn't quite so funny to you now, is it? Mr. Chuckles looks a little worried! Could it be because you made the EXACT same mistake as Laura?"
"Who's the big man now, Chris? Huh?
"And Katie, could you please remind the class of the very first thing I said to you all when we started last week? Oh, I'm sorry; you don't remember? Well, obviously you don't remember, Katie, because what I said was 'there is no 'd' in congratulations'."
"Way to go, Katie; you inserted a 'd' and omitted the 'i'. Now, class, 'omitted' means 'left out' - I don't want all these big fancy words to overtax your teensy little brains.
"Sarah, this looks like 'Congratwat Jody Clarry'."
"Maybe if you would stop focusing on your cutesy little flowers for a few seconds, you could attempt to center your inscription, eh? How's that sound? Honestly, class, have you undergone some massive brain-wipe since The Art of Spacing? Do you remember NOTHING that I taught you?!?"
[breathing deeply]
"Alright, moving on: Doug, let's take a look at your cake:"
"Say, Doug, why don't you do us a favor and just say the word you wrote here, hmm? No, really, I want to hear you pronounce it. Go ahead.
"I'm waiting, Doug. No? Nothing? I see.
"And finally, there's Beth's cake:"
"Beth here apparently thinks my years spent teaching have left me blind as a bat. Wow, it's like I can't even SEE that gaping hole between the 't' and the 'u', Beth! And I certainly would never notice the 's' is missing, or the fact that the 'g' stands out more than my wife at an anorexics anonymous meeting. Nope, this cake looks A OK to me!
"Well, since I'm obviously not getting through to you numskulls, we're just going to have to try a slightly less traditional teaching method. The metal pens you see before you are not airbrushes, class; they're tattoo pens. Now, pay VERY close attention, because you're really going to want to get this next bit right..."
Becky W., Claudine, Katy B., Liz P., and Terricha, class dismissed!
"Laura, so help me, if you run blubbering to the bathroom one more time I am going to fail your cotton candy rear faster than you can say "contralulations". Which, incidentally, is what you wrote on your cake:"
"And Laura? What in the name of all things holy is UP with that apostrophe? Does Ronan belong to Contralulation, whatever that is? Oh for goodness' sake...here, take a Kleenex. I don't see what you're crying about, though; I'm the one saddled with teaching you bunch of imbeciles.
"Ah, Chris, I see this isn't quite so funny to you now, is it? Mr. Chuckles looks a little worried! Could it be because you made the EXACT same mistake as Laura?"
"Who's the big man now, Chris? Huh?"And Katie, could you please remind the class of the very first thing I said to you all when we started last week? Oh, I'm sorry; you don't remember? Well, obviously you don't remember, Katie, because what I said was 'there is no 'd' in congratulations'."
"Way to go, Katie; you inserted a 'd' and omitted the 'i'. Now, class, 'omitted' means 'left out' - I don't want all these big fancy words to overtax your teensy little brains."Sarah, this looks like 'Congratwat Jody Clarry'."
"Maybe if you would stop focusing on your cutesy little flowers for a few seconds, you could attempt to center your inscription, eh? How's that sound? Honestly, class, have you undergone some massive brain-wipe since The Art of Spacing? Do you remember NOTHING that I taught you?!?"
[breathing deeply]
"Alright, moving on: Doug, let's take a look at your cake:"
"Say, Doug, why don't you do us a favor and just say the word you wrote here, hmm? No, really, I want to hear you pronounce it. Go ahead.
"I'm waiting, Doug. No? Nothing? I see.
"And finally, there's Beth's cake:"
"Beth here apparently thinks my years spent teaching have left me blind as a bat. Wow, it's like I can't even SEE that gaping hole between the 't' and the 'u', Beth! And I certainly would never notice the 's' is missing, or the fact that the 'g' stands out more than my wife at an anorexics anonymous meeting. Nope, this cake looks A OK to me!
"Well, since I'm obviously not getting through to you numskulls, we're just going to have to try a slightly less traditional teaching method. The metal pens you see before you are not airbrushes, class; they're tattoo pens. Now, pay VERY close attention, because you're really going to want to get this next bit right..."
Becky W., Claudine, Katy B., Liz P., and Terricha, class dismissed!
What's Better Than a Hockey Wreck?
That's right: a FREE hockey Wreck.
Now, I know nothing about hockey. I would not even know this cake was hockey-related if the word 'hockey' wasn't on there. So I asked my hubby John, and he was only too happy to explain the whole game for me. And you know what? It's actually kind of interesting! So for the benefit of you other non-sports types, here's a quick rundown:
See, apparently they play this sport on ice - but they have to make sure the ice is really thick, or else their cleats will scuff it all up. The players wear lots of padding and helmets, and carry little butterfly nets on sticks with which to hit the ball around. The object of the game is to score a triple Hail Mary - which is just another name for a running slam dunk - and consists of knocking three other players down while simultaneously dunking the ball through one of the red rings. Players known as running backs try to kick the ball, but the other team's catchers use their heads and butterfly nets to deflect the ball away from their side's field goal. Any running backs who are able to push the other team's running backs out of the big circle in the middle get what's called a free throw, in which they're allowed to chuck the ball at the head of their least favorite player. If they miss, their team only scores a half-down, but if the ball hits the other player, they score a hole-in-one.
There was also some stuff about yard lines, birdies, and triple-axles, but I kind of zoned out at that point. Still, I think I just may have to check out a hockey game some day; John tells me every time the pitcher serves a kill-shot, the mascot serves hot chocolate. How cool is that?!?
A Barry Booty-full Cake
I've often said I want to be just like Dave Barry, only with ovaries. And as much as that statement may disturb my husband, the sentiment remains: DB is one of those writers who inspires stalker-like affection from yours truly. So, when Wreckporter Joyce W. alerted me to Dave's latest blog entry containing - oh yes - a cake, I put away my telephoto zoom lenses and super-spy microphones to do a little happy dance. Because this isn't just any cake: it's a wreckalicious confection rife with pun possibilities - or in other words, my favorite kind.
Behold the Behind!
According to Dave, this was for his son's birthday. According to this cake, Dave's son is something of an 'A' man, if ya knowuddamean. (And if not, don't ask.) Dave's readers seem to share my penchant for puns, too: the comments include cracks (oh! that one was unintentional!) about butt-cream frosting and speculation over whether the cake was Duncan Hiney, Betty Cracker, or perhaps purchased at Derriere Queen.
Personally, I'm kind of curious about the librarian heels, Monica Lewinsky hair, and anatomically impossible angle of the right ankle. I mean, I know strippers are supposed to be flexible, but rotating a knee cap 180 degrees? That's gotta be a rare talent.
What say you, readers? Do we give the buns a bum rap, or is all well that ends well in the end?
Behold the Behind!
According to Dave, this was for his son's birthday. According to this cake, Dave's son is something of an 'A' man, if ya knowuddamean. (And if not, don't ask.) Dave's readers seem to share my penchant for puns, too: the comments include cracks (oh! that one was unintentional!) about butt-cream frosting and speculation over whether the cake was Duncan Hiney, Betty Cracker, or perhaps purchased at Derriere Queen.Personally, I'm kind of curious about the librarian heels, Monica Lewinsky hair, and anatomically impossible angle of the right ankle. I mean, I know strippers are supposed to be flexible, but rotating a knee cap 180 degrees? That's gotta be a rare talent.
What say you, readers? Do we give the buns a bum rap, or is all well that ends well in the end?
Game Show Results
Judging from your overwhelming response to yesterday's post, I'm sure it will surprise none of you to learn that the Guess-a-Wreck was indeed supposed to resemble the Super Dome in New Orleans. Here's what that looks like:
And the cake again:
Now the to the fun part.
Most of you either saw a couch, grilling steak/lobster/sushi, a Boyscout campfire, a French bed, or a coffin carried by beetles. There were also conjectures including demonic pianos, misshapen torsos, and tombstones. A few of you even reported favorable relationships with your mothers, which was nice to hear.
With over 500 comments posted, it was hard for me to choose just 3 "winners". However, here are three rather creative answers that made me chuckle:
metalnoir wrote:
"Doc, I'm seeing the wringer mechanism from one of those old-style clothes washing machines which are popularly referred to as wringer-washers; and, it's in mid-wring of a garment with a French Fleur de Lys pattern.
Oh, and, Doc, I don't really much care about the fame and fortune. I just want the PAIN to GO AWAY! Please, can you help me, Doc?"
Metalnoir, I advise vast amounts of sugar consumption. That'll be $125, please.
Here's Leslie's $.02:
"Of course it's not the Superdome. What we have here is a re-enactment of the Great Beetle Linen Theft of 1658.
Unbeknownst to most historians, it wasn't Louis the 14th's dicey wedding plans that led to tense relations with Spain, but rather the King of Spain sending his hoardes of racing beetles (depicted here with their little racing numbers) to steal Louis the 14th's favorite sheets (which in this cakey re-creation had just been neatly folded after being laundered).
As we all know, most men are cranky when they don't sleep well and therefore skirmishes broke out shortly after the incident.
*nods earnestly*"
Fascinating. Thanks for giving us the low down, Les!
And Tanya Brown's explanation was short but sensible:
"It's Gulliver's sleeping bag, and he's just killed the entire football-playing population of Lilliputia."
Ah, of course! How could I not have seen it?
And these readers get honorable mentions:
"The football team got teleported to the Land of OZ (note the yellow brick road) by a large grey rock where a giant couch (complete with fleu-de-lis decorative cusion) and coffee table were dropped on them. That dark reddish brown piping at the bottom is depicting the gory nastyness."
-Evellyn
"Clearly, this is France's revenge for our calling french fries "freedom fries". They have sent a mutated, grilled baked potato to wreak havoc on our country, it's deadly fleur-de-lis ready to eviscerate any slow-moving american in its path (and as many fr9ies as many of us have eaten, we are slow-moving indeed.)
Why did they take so long to attack? They didn't. The spud of doom is propelled by classic French escargot (snails to us Americans.) It just takes them a while to get where they are going."
--Cpeter13
"...a Cajun leprechaun's pot of stone soup that he's serving at his Monday Night football party."
- Karin
Thanks, everyone! Rest assured there will be more Guess-a-Wrecks coming your way soon!
Note: If any of you "winners" would like your name linked to your blog or website, please leave a comment on this post to let me know. Thanks!
And the cake again:
Now the to the fun part.Most of you either saw a couch, grilling steak/lobster/sushi, a Boyscout campfire, a French bed, or a coffin carried by beetles. There were also conjectures including demonic pianos, misshapen torsos, and tombstones. A few of you even reported favorable relationships with your mothers, which was nice to hear.
With over 500 comments posted, it was hard for me to choose just 3 "winners". However, here are three rather creative answers that made me chuckle:
metalnoir wrote:
"Doc, I'm seeing the wringer mechanism from one of those old-style clothes washing machines which are popularly referred to as wringer-washers; and, it's in mid-wring of a garment with a French Fleur de Lys pattern.
Oh, and, Doc, I don't really much care about the fame and fortune. I just want the PAIN to GO AWAY! Please, can you help me, Doc?"
Metalnoir, I advise vast amounts of sugar consumption. That'll be $125, please.
Here's Leslie's $.02:
"Of course it's not the Superdome. What we have here is a re-enactment of the Great Beetle Linen Theft of 1658.
Unbeknownst to most historians, it wasn't Louis the 14th's dicey wedding plans that led to tense relations with Spain, but rather the King of Spain sending his hoardes of racing beetles (depicted here with their little racing numbers) to steal Louis the 14th's favorite sheets (which in this cakey re-creation had just been neatly folded after being laundered).
As we all know, most men are cranky when they don't sleep well and therefore skirmishes broke out shortly after the incident.
*nods earnestly*"
Fascinating. Thanks for giving us the low down, Les!
And Tanya Brown's explanation was short but sensible:
"It's Gulliver's sleeping bag, and he's just killed the entire football-playing population of Lilliputia."
Ah, of course! How could I not have seen it?
And these readers get honorable mentions:
"The football team got teleported to the Land of OZ (note the yellow brick road) by a large grey rock where a giant couch (complete with fleu-de-lis decorative cusion) and coffee table were dropped on them. That dark reddish brown piping at the bottom is depicting the gory nastyness."
-Evellyn
"Clearly, this is France's revenge for our calling french fries "freedom fries". They have sent a mutated, grilled baked potato to wreak havoc on our country, it's deadly fleur-de-lis ready to eviscerate any slow-moving american in its path (and as many fr9ies as many of us have eaten, we are slow-moving indeed.)
Why did they take so long to attack? They didn't. The spud of doom is propelled by classic French escargot (snails to us Americans.) It just takes them a while to get where they are going."
--Cpeter13
"...a Cajun leprechaun's pot of stone soup that he's serving at his Monday Night football party."
- Karin
Thanks, everyone! Rest assured there will be more Guess-a-Wrecks coming your way soon!
Note: If any of you "winners" would like your name linked to your blog or website, please leave a comment on this post to let me know. Thanks!
Cake Wrecks the Game Show?
Some cakes are like those ink blot tests you saw in grade school: baffling blobs of color open to interpretation. Well, not exactly; cakes are usually supposed to look like something in particular. Sometimes they taste better, too.
Anyway, since I've gotten a few of these "ink blot" type cakes submitted, I thought it'd be fun to add a little suspense to your daily dose of Wreckage. That's right, boys and girls, now it's time to play...
Everyone ready? Ok, clear your mind of all thoughts. Now, scroll down and tell me what you see:
"What's that? Ah, you see the moon cooking on the grill in a paper bag? [scribbling on notepad] Interesting, veeery interesting... [looking over glasses] And tell me, how IS your relationship with your mother?"
Check back tomorrow for the "answer": I'll post a picture of what the cake was supposed to look like. In the mean time, let's see who can come up with the most outrageous explanation. I may even post the top 3 guesses here, so bring on the funny, folks; fame and fortune await!*
Thanks to Dana W. for inspiring a brand new category! Oh, and Dana? Don't go giving away the answer just yet, k?
*By "fame" I mean a shout-out to your posting name, and "fortune" is used more in the "destiny" sense of the word than the "wealth or riches" sense. So in other words, no, you won't be getting any money*. Unless someone sends it to you, of course. But that someone would not be me. So probably not.
* Or begetting any money, either; 'cuz that'd just be weird. And wrong. But mostly weird.
Anyway, since I've gotten a few of these "ink blot" type cakes submitted, I thought it'd be fun to add a little suspense to your daily dose of Wreckage. That's right, boys and girls, now it's time to play...
"Guess That Wreck!"
Everyone ready? Ok, clear your mind of all thoughts. Now, scroll down and tell me what you see:
"What's that? Ah, you see the moon cooking on the grill in a paper bag? [scribbling on notepad] Interesting, veeery interesting... [looking over glasses] And tell me, how IS your relationship with your mother?"Check back tomorrow for the "answer": I'll post a picture of what the cake was supposed to look like. In the mean time, let's see who can come up with the most outrageous explanation. I may even post the top 3 guesses here, so bring on the funny, folks; fame and fortune await!*
Thanks to Dana W. for inspiring a brand new category! Oh, and Dana? Don't go giving away the answer just yet, k?
*By "fame" I mean a shout-out to your posting name, and "fortune" is used more in the "destiny" sense of the word than the "wealth or riches" sense. So in other words, no, you won't be getting any money*. Unless someone sends it to you, of course. But that someone would not be me. So probably not.
* Or begetting any money, either; 'cuz that'd just be weird. And wrong. But mostly weird.
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