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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

Entries in Just Funny (385)

Thursday
Jan012009

Wasted Cakes

If there's one thing I've learned from this blog, it's that there's a cake for everything. Vasectomies, divorces, fecal triumphs - bakeries come through where even Hallmark is left speechless. So for those of you reading this through squinted, blood-shot eyes, nursing a killer migraine, and wondering if God was actually paying attention to your 4AM porcelain-throne confessional this morning: cheer up; there's a cake for that.

Binky here is part of the new "scare 'em sober" line of cake kits. Nothing says "drink in moderation" quite like a deceased flattened clown with charred lumps for feet, right? "And that's why it's important to remember "stop, drop and roll" when doing flaming shots, boys and girls!"

Look familiar? I hope not; anyone who keeps a big mass of string cheese in their bathroom has serious hygiene issues. I'm glad the guy is labeled a "Party Animal", though: otherwise you might think this was celebrating the flu or food poisoning.

(Bonus Side Tangent Competition: Who can be the first to find me an actual cake celebrating the flu or food poisoning? C'mon; you know they're out there!)

And then there's Charlie, who shows us once and for all that you're never too old to party:

Charlie apparently likes to rock the Casbah with a couple of redskin potatoes shoved down the back of his pants. He also has a gargantuan toilet with a joystick on the seat, which he doesn't like to talk about.

[whispers] Shhh. He's sleeping. That pink shag rug and the smell of 2000 Flushes gets him every time. Aren't they just the cutest when they're dreaming?

(Yes, it's "professional". What, don't you trust me?)

Well, Happy New Year, everyone! Here's to a Wrecktastic 2009.

Thanks to Sarah N., and Stefani H.!

Wednesday
Dec242008

Santa Gets the Shaft

We've already seen some flagrant Santa-abuse this year, but here's a Christmas count-down of some more ways the big guy gets no respect.

We start off with your no-frills decapitation (under dome), courtesy of Giovanna B.:

This isn't horrendously wrecky, but it looks exactly like the bleach-bottle Santa crafts my grandmother used to make, so I had to post it. Here, I found a picture of one over on Thrifty Fun for reference:


Next there's the beret-wearing, chin-melting, something-seriously-wrong-with-the-whiskers incarnation:

Huh - I've never seen a handlebar mustache grow all the way around the nose like that, Shelby B. You think it's a French thing?

And speaking of disturbing facial hair, it looks like Mrs. Claus needs to get her hormones checked:
Maybe she's born with it, Darla D. (Maybe it's Maybelline.)

Apparently Deon M.'s local decorator didn't get that new CCC Puzzle pan from Santa this year, and decided to lash out the only way s/he knew how:

Poor Santa. You'll thank him later, dear wreckerator; he's only saving you from yourself in the long run.

Suzanne G., this next little holiday vignette makes me feel a song coming on:

Here goes - y'all feel free to join in, now:

"Santa got run over by a snow plow,
Walking home from our house Christmas Eve,

You may say there's no such thing as Santa,

But once you see this stain you may believe."


"No respect! I get no respect around here! That's a lump of coal for you, Jen! And why the *%&! do I never get a proper nose, anyway? Is it so hard to give me a frickin' little nose?!? Huh? I just - I'm so - I can't even talk to you anymore! Geez. Somebody get me a hot cocoa."

I'd fetch that right away, Alden M.