Well Birthday Week is in full swing.
Today I have baked 5 cakes and 75 cupcakes, made 60 stars and 25 princess crowns out of fondant and rocked on down to 6 hours of 80’s awesomeness.
Oh and explained to Boo that they are in fact saying ‘Our lips are sealed’ not his fathers version of ‘Alex the seal’
And begged Moo to stop singing along to ‘I want your sex’ cause that shit was MINE and I can’t be having no SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD CHILD OF MINE singing along to that cause that would make me old.
Which, clearly, given the awesome moves I was rocking despite the old lady shaggers sore back that is perfectly normal to have even if you are not a mother of children that on Monday can VOTE and shit, makes me young and virile.
Are women virile? Whatever, the POINT IS I am not old I am young and bouncy and perky.
If only someone would pass that information on to my boobs. And my arse.
The point of this post is to show off my mad cake making skillz and the fact that I have passed that shit down to a Damn Emo. So with no further interruptions Kelley, I give you the Wii cake of awesomeness.
Don’t you just WISH you were in my family so I could slave over a cake for you while bent over like that witch in Snow White but instead of giving you a poisioned apple I would give you a fucking AWESOME lemon curd cake lovingly carved into the shape of your favourite pastime that may or may not be poisoned?
It is like Russian roulette of cakes.
Especially when I am hovering over you bent over like the witch in Snow White screaming EAT IT EAT IT MWAAAAA HAAAAA HAAAAAAAAA!
The above was probably caused by all the drugs and 4 extra large double shot lattes I had consumed, but whatever...
And looky here, my apprentice Too made this scale model or for those who are nerds or wordsmiths a Homunculus, of my Daddy’s Mii.
So fucking cute I could spit.
But I won’t cause, you know, we just had the carpets cleaned and all.
Now I need a nice lay down. With a little shawl to cover my knees.