Archives For Cake

But first, Happy Pearl Harbor Day!  I might have forgotten were it not for Sandylikeabeach, who observed that yesterday was Pearl Harbor Day Eve.  So thanks, Sandy!  Yes, it was 71 years ago today that the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor and facilitated America’s entry into WWII.  It wasn’t a good day.  Nor were the 828 days of war before December 7th, nor were the 1,347 days after it.  War sucks.

And this is a good segue to the subject of today’s post:  my Christmas list.  I would like world peace, but that seems to be a pretty tall order.  Santa’s good, but he’s not a miracle worker.  I’ll have to be more realistic.  Here’s what I’ve got so far:

  • A Tesla death ray to eradicate the idiot tourists in Manhattan.  I will not rest until New York is free of loud, intelligence-free, giant map-wielding visitors who have not mastered the art of walking in a straight line.  They’re a plague.  Like locusts, except dumber.  I’d almost rather deal with the aliens from Cloverfield than maneuver around some dipstick trying to take a photo of the tree at Rockefeller Center without any people in the way.
  • The ability to summon a perfect cup of coffee from the ether by clapping my hands.  I realize this could pose a problem when I’m at an event where applause is involved.  But I’m willing to take that risk.
  • A magic middle finger.  You have now seen a photo of me flipping the bird—it comes quite naturally to me.  I want to be able to give the finger to people and things and have them automatically behave themselves.  How cool would that be?  Next time I encounter a douchebag yattering away on his cell phone, I can just strike the pose and he’ll magically shut the fuck up.  Car alarm wailing in the middle of the night?  No problem—I’ll just stick my middle finger out the window and presto: sweet silence.  Nasty bitch giving me attitude?  I’ll flip her off and she’ll feel compelled to apologize.  As a bonus, she’ll spontaneously gain ten pounds.
  • A calorie vaporizer.  We’ve sent probes to Mars and the far reaches of the solar system.  The Hubble telescope has revealed images of galaxies billions of light years away.  We have programs that allow me to hold my phone up to the speakers to identify a song I don’t know.  If we can do cool stuff like that, then surely we can invent something that will zap the calories in a piece of chocolate cake while leaving the cake intact.  What the fuck is all this technology for, if not to better our lives??
  • This guy.  I know what you’re saying.  You’re saying, “Madame Weebles, Robert Cornelius has been dead for 119 years.”  That’s true.  However, if we can build Tesla death rays, vaporize calories, neutralize idiots with our middle fingers, and conjure coffee out of thin air, then I can’t see why bringing someone back from the dead should be a big deal.  But listen, I don’t want to be unreasonable.  Santa Claus has enough on his plate. If it’s too difficult to get Robert Cornelius, I’d be overjoyed to receive this guy as a gift instead.

Now I need to know what to get for all you guys. Kindly tell me what’s on your list and I’ll go shopping this weekend.

I still got nothing.  This is a recurring theme.  It vexes me.

So why don’t I just pour some coffee and tea for everyone and we’ll have a nice chat, shall we?  The cookies will be out of the oven shortly.

Since I have nothing interesting to say, I’ll tell you a bunch of uninteresting things.  So if you’re already bored, I urge you to click away from this page now.  It’s only going to go downhill from here.

For starters, I think Hurricane Isaac is a dick for hitting the New Orleans area.  Come on, dude, haven’t the people in the Gulf suffered enough??  And Hurricane Katrina hit on August 29, 2005—-nice 7th anniversary gift, asshole.

Ah, there’s the buzzer, the cookies are done.  I’ve made a few different kinds.  Chocolate chip, peanut butter, oatmeal raisin, and maple prune.  Those last ones were an experiment but they don’t look very appealing.  I’d give those a pass if I were you.  Careful, they’re heavy.

The other day I heard “Empire State of Mind” by Jay-Z and Alicia Keys for the first time in a while.  I really don’t like that song.  This is the best you could do as a tribute to your hometown, dude?  Because if so, your best sucks.  As a native New Yorker, I’m offended.  I could make a recording of subway trains coming to a screeching halt, with Joe Pesci’s voice dubbed in, and it would still sound nicer than that song.  I want the ghost of Frank Sinatra to come down and kick the shit out of Jay-Z for writing that earsore.

Would you like coffee or tea?  Personally, I like my cup of coffee the way I like my men: strong, hot, and bottomless.

Now where was I?  Right.  Rambling aimlessly.

You know what I’d really love to do?  I’d really love to have my own old-fashioned ice cream parlor and soda fountain.  With tin ceilings, marble countertops, wrought-iron fixtures, and the type of soda fountain they used to have in pharmacies back in the day.  Like these:

     

Except I’d have much more comfortable tables and chairs.  And I would serve fancy ice cream sundaes, sodas, phosphates, and all kinds of other wacky concoctions.  But I’d add a bakery section too.  This way if you’d rather have cookies, pastries, or cake (hi Sandee!), or if you want ice cream and cake (and who doesn’t??), you can have your cake and eat it too, so to speak.  I think that would be nice.  A nice 19th-century-style confection emporium.  But to give it a little twist, the staff would all be dressed like saucy Victorian whores.  Including the men.

More coffee?  More tea?  No?  You suddenly don’t feel well and have to go home immediately?  Oh, what a shame.  You didn’t try those maple prune things, did you?  That’s a relief.  Why don’t you stop by tomorrow?  Oh, you’ll be busy.  Okay.  How about Saturday?  I see.  That’s so nice of your dentist to be open on the weekend.  Good luck with those root canals.  Want me to come over on Sunday to see how you’re doing after the dental work?  A silent retreat at your church after Mass, how interesting.  Isn’t that funny, I thought you were Jewish.  My mistake.

Well anyway, it was great to visit with you, we’ll have to do this again soon!