Stop And Smell The Clichés

 Normally I avoid clichés like the plague.

Still, when it comes to buying a cake, sometimes you've got to grab the bull by the horns.

(Just don't grab the other end.)


See, I'll bet you dollars to donuts:

... that some of you are going to get wrecks.


You may think you have all your ducks in a row:

(or maybe to be rowed...)

... but let's face it: There's a good chance the baker's ...


... a poo ant short of a picnic.


And s/he might get your cake ...

... bass ackwards.


I mean, does a bear ...

 ... sit in the woods?

(Aw, Pooh.)



Look, you're probably never going to get the baker to eat crow:


So don't make a tempest in a teapot!

(Actually, don't make anything in this teapot.)


After all, you've still got a cake, and maybe the manager will mark it down.


So rather than look a gift horse in the, uh ...

... gaping mouth nozzle of despair?

... just enjoy your cake.


I think Shakespeare put it best:

"That which they call a rose by any other name...

"... still looks like meat."



Thanks to Scott D., Deanna C., Laura M., Wolfie W., Anna M., Autumn J., Reba S., Jesea J., Lana H., and Maria V.  for letting us have their cakes and read them, too.