@carbolicGalvanologist I would be remiss not to deliver upon my promise to celebrate your presence in my life- in the only dark, earthy tones that seem to proportionately convey my appreciation. Behold. I have named her The Bogtrotter. Twenty-four layers and ten inches in diameter. Roughly the weight of a rotund first-grader. Old Bruce himself could not have served you better if he'd been liquefied and baked into a juvenile diabetic puck. Happy Wriggling Day, KV. From your pal. :B
UNHOLY ROILING ABYSS OF THE BLACK FUCKING CULLPITS. IT'S LIKE YOU PAID A BURLY LUMBERJACK TO CHOP DOWN A CROSS-SECTION OF A TREE FROM TROLL WILLY WONKA'S THOUSAND SWEEP-OLD ENDANGERED BRISTLECONE PINE FOREST AND FOUND TROLL FUCKING METHUSELAH. IF I STUCK A CAKE KNIFE IN THIS THING, WHOEVER COULD PULL IT OUT WOULD BE THE TRUE EMPRESS OF ALTERNIA. THE IDEA ALONE OF TAKING A BITE FROM THIS THING FEELS LIKE IT WOULD SEND ME INTO A THIRD BULB-OPENING DIABETIC SPIRIT WALK TO THE FUCKING ASTRAL REALM. I'VE NEVER FELT SO MUCH SIMULTANEOUS FEAR AND PURE, HUNGERTRAP-WATERING MANIA. I'M GOING TO BURROW INTO THIS THING LIKE A FUCKING TERMITE. THANK YOU, JANE. YOU FUCKING ROCK.
Don't worry. I've saved the scraps and leftover frosting. There are leftover cake-parfait cups in the fridge.
:(
Wonka. There's a background movie for your impending sugar coma. :B How did it go? There's chocolate, and there's *chocolate.*
i'LL GO FOR THE PARFAIT, mAYBE, yOU MADE SOME WITHOUT OVUM FOR ME, rIGHT? i FORGET WHICH LABEL, iS WHICH,
Sorry, I blacked out for a second.
bECAUSE i SUGGESTED, bAKING WITHOUT AN ESSENTIAL INGREDIENT OR BECAUSE i SAID,,, tHAT WORD?
why'd you all go on and have to make my mother fucking tummy growl? :o( DIRK AIN'T GOT SHIT TO EAT HERE BUT DORITOS AND PROTEIN BARS.
No comment.
TWENTY-FOUR LAYERS. Sheesh.