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What's a Wreck?

A Cake Wreck is any cake that is unintentionally sad, silly, creepy, inappropriate - you name it. A Wreck is not necessarily a poorly-made cake; it's simply one I find funny, for any of a number of reasons. Anyone who has ever smeared frosting on a baked good has made a Wreck at one time or another, so I'm not here to vilify decorators: Cake Wrecks is just about finding the funny in unexpected, sugar-filled places.

Now, don't you have a photo you want to send me? ;)

- Jen
Wednesday
Jul162008

Don’t Laugh; They’re "Special"


I think these guys should team up with the poison bon-bon cake, given the fatality risk of eating real puffer fish. At least, I think those are supposed to be puffer fish; the one on the right (my right, people) looks a bit like a smushed hedgehog – all he needs are some tire treads across the back. Come to think of it, that would explain the bug-eyes...

If this continues, I may have to start a "Poisonous" category - something I never would have imagined needing on a cake blog. What next? Poison Dart Frog cakes? (You know they're out there, don't you? Let's see who can find one first. And...Go!!)

Many thanks to Mary P. for sharing her catch.

Tuesday
Jul152008

And Now for Something Completely Different

[through intercom, with British accent] “Ms. Jones, could you come in here, please?”
- door opens and closes -
“Yes, Mr. Reynaldo?”
“Ms. Jones, about that cake in the conference room…”
“Yes, sir?”
“I’m not sure it’s entirely appropriate for the board meeting.”
“I did make sure it said ‘Mr. Reynaldo’ on it, and not ‘Nigel’, sir.”
“Yes. No, I do appreciate that. But, ah, about the photo on it…”
“Don’t you like it, sir?”

“I’m sure it’s quite nice, Ms. Jones, but who is it?”
“I don’t quite know, sir. Why do you ask?”
[pause]
“Ms. Jones, I’m not gay, you know, I’m British.”
“Really? Are you sure, sir?”
“’Course I’m bloody sure!”
“Sorry, sir. It’s so hard to tell the difference, you know.”
“I’m sodding married!”
“Yes, but Mrs. Reynaldo won’t be attending the board meeting, sir.”
[brightening] “Oh, really? Well, alright then. Carry on, Ms. Jones, carry on.”

(Why? Three reasons: because I doubt I’ll ever find a cake with a dead parrot on it, I think “Nigel Reynaldo” would be the awesomest name ever, and for my new friend Anthony, of “Oh, you’re British? I thought you were just gay” fame.)