My Other Blog

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

Entries in Just Funny (510)


Trekkin' and Wreckin'

ATTN Parents: Today's post may not be appropriate for junior cadets.


The saga of the bakeshop Wrecksurprise continues...


Captain’s Log, accidental:

Much has happened on our journey so far.

We cleared out some Cling-ons in orbit around Uranus...

...but the resulting explosion caused a gas giant to rip through the fabric of space time.

Even worse, now the engine room smells like cabbage. Ick.


We made contact with a new species on the outer reaches of the gamma quadrant. We had some initial trouble communicating... I had sex with it, just to be safe.

Then I had to shoot it with a harpoon.

But I think we made some real progress there, all the same.


A transporter malfunction resulted in our first casualty:

I guess you could say he croaked. Haha!

And on a personal note, this crew has NO sense of humor during funerals. Seriously.
Bunch of killjoys, all of 'em.


Oh, and we lost another member of security:

We're not sure which one, though, since those red shirts never seem to last more than a few days.


In other news, there was a bit of a faux pas at our dinner with the Tellarian ambassador. It seems the new chef considers himself something of a practical joker:

Needless to say, the ambassador was not amused.

Anyway, long story short, we're now at war with Tellar Prime. Oopsie.


So, I guess you could say it's been an interesting week so far. Now we're on our way to Vulcan to assist with their first annual Knock-Knock Joke Competition. I can't wait to give them a hand!



"Knock knock."

"I do not understand."

"Just say 'who's there.'"

"But I already know your identity."

"Yes, but it's for the joke."

"This is a joke?"

"You better believe it, brother."



"Knock knock."

"This is illogical."

"Knock knock."

" ... "

"Knock knock."

"Very well. Who is there?"


"The Terran fruit or the pigment?"

"It doesn't matter. Either one."

"Then I choose Earth's pithy citrus."

"...You know what? NEVER MIND."


"I do not 'get it.'"


Thanks to Shannon K., Jenny C., Leila A., Lindy D., Dawn E., Erin, Jed R., and again to Sharyn for the continued inspiration.  Happy Towel Day, guys!  May your petunias live long and prosper!


Momma Said There'd Be Days Like This

Ok, kids, Sunday's the big day: Mom's day. You don't want to screw this up. Remember, she brought you into this world, and she can TAKE YOU RIGHT BACK OUT OF IT.

Er, so, with that in mind, let's see what you've got.

This is the visual equivalent to being stabbed in the eye with a flatulent walrus.

I'm also craving Pepto Bismol.




I wouldn't, if I were you.


I'mma let you finish, but Momma is gonna be SO PROUD of those grammar skillz.


Wouldn't this be kind of cute if it were decorated by a five-year old?

And wouldn't it be soul-crushingly horrific if it were made by a fully grown adult who is somehow still gainfully employed when thousands upon thousands of intelligent laborers who actually give a crap are not?

I only ask because this was taken while still in the shopping cart, and Jaunna just took the lid off because there was a sticker in the way.

But go ahead and believe that five-year-old thing. You know, for your sanity's sake.


This next one is my favorite, because it was *supposed* to say, "It's my birthday, b*tches!"

And did I mention it was ordered in March?

(Ok, when you guys are taking Mom out this afternoon, I dare you to walk into the restaurant and yell, "It's Mother's Day, B*tches!" In fact, I double dog dare you.)


But don't worry, dear Wreckies; even if you DO accidentally give Mom a wreck this weekend, you can take comfort in knowing that it's always the thought that counts:

And that's just for you, Mom.


Thanks to wreckporters Holly W., Cathy S., Greta B., Jaunna S., Jo M., & Charlene for also not beating me. I really appreciate that, guys.