Of broken blogs, cakes that kill, ninja, pirates and a sexy man wearing a towel and an eyepatch.

No doubt you have seen my last post where I told the tale of awesome skillz and dexterity that brought a sad little hacker to his bony little knees and I emerged triumphant after an inconvenience more inconvenienceable than finding a large blind pimple on your arse just minutes before boarding a bus for a 12 hour ride.

But I stand before you here, my arms raised bellowing a HUZZAH probably a little more gleefully than the situation demands, but HUZZAH nonetheless.

I could be a little delirious.

And what, pray tell, could have brought about this deliriousness?

How about a cake that tried to kill me?

Oh yes, my lovelies a cake had me eyeing off the razor sharp knives and I was only stopped by the fact that I didn’t think I would have time to finish it AND clean up the mess before I bled out.  Cause you know if I didn’t clean it up future generations would find that half finished cake of doom and pools of dried blood in an archaeological dig and be all ‘OMG WE FOUND PROOF OF KELLEY TEH AWESOMES EXISTENCE!  And then take my blood and make little Kelley’s which would only be half as awesome OBVIOUSLY I don’t need to point that shit out to you do I?

Yes, I have had some painkiller medication.  Why do you ask?

Let me take you back to when this all started.  On Thursday.

On Friday I was sitting at my desk deleting all my emails (yes FRIDAY, I know I said Thursday but I WILL make a point.  I promise) when I saw a meeting request for Monday 19 July.

Hmmm, I say to myself, what is on 19 July OMG MOTHERFUCKER IT IS MOTY’S BIRTHDAY!  I had totally forgotten.  And then it dawned on my WHY she was so nice to me the day before.  On THURSDAY (see?  I am like an epic story teller).

I was in the bathroom doing bathroomy things when the doorbell rang and then I heard the door open and someone walk down the hall calling me.  I ceased doing bathroomy things and ran out to find MOTY in the kitchen, I went to wash my hands and when I came back she was gone.

And the lazy susan I wanted for cake decorating on the kitchen table.

Shit.  She is OBVIOUSLY pissed.  I am gunna pay big time for that.

Then when she got home she rang and APOLOGISED for leaving so abruptly and did I see the lazy susan she left me for my cake decorating?

Back to Friday.  It slowly dawned on me.  She was NICE.  She dropped off the lazy susan.  She allowed my Dad to watch Ace of Cakes AND Cake Boss and record and burn copies onto DVD for me.

She wanted a birthday cake.

Like a BIG DEAL birthday cake and she would be bringing over various relatives to show them my cake decorating skillz.

So that is how I managed to be hosting MOTY’s birthday party and drop everything to battle with a cake that was clearly EVIL.

The battle started at 9am Saturday morning.  And after fuck ups of biblical proportions, a metric butt load of fondant – 90% of which ended up in the bin – a cake that split down the middle forcing me to completely redesign it AFTER it was iced, I finally had something that kinda sorta had a passing resemblance to cup of tea.  Around 11am Sunday.

But I am VERY happy with the ‘sugar cubes’  they were full of teh awesome.

Needless to say MOTY was very happy with it, the relatives gobbled down half of the buttercake with lemon butter and cream cheese frosting and then all promptly went into sugar comas while MOTY snaffled the remaining half of the cake, turned it cut side down and declared it a ‘Half cup of tea’ that she would serve to her friends tomorrow.

And you KNOW she is gunna take credit for it.

I can’t cut a break.

So I deserve a little man candy after battling hacker fuckers, crazy relatives, 10 hours standing in the kitchen making one barely passable cake and random housework shit.

Man Candy who’s voice leaves me shaking at the knees and drooling on my keyboard, talking about Ninja, Pirates while wearing an eye patch and a towel.

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I may or may not just spent the last hour watching Mustafa on YouTube.  I am pretty sure I need a towel down.