If you've been hanging around this blog for a while, then you probably remember the infamous Flash Drive wreck.
That's the one where someone brought in a photo on a flash drive, but instead of using the photo, the bakery recreated the flash drive itself on the cake. It's one of the most epic Cake Wrecks of all time, and taught us all a valuable lesson about the boundless nature of human derpitude.
I'm guessing Matthew here missed the flash drive post, though, because not only did he bring one in for his daughter's fifth birthday cake, he also had more than one photo on the drive.
In Matthew's defense, there were only two images on the drive to choose from: one, his daughter's favorite cartoon character, and the other, a Power Point flow chart from his company.
I'll give you two guesses which one the bakery used.
Aw, you guessed it, didn't you? See, I just can't surprise you guys anymore.
Thanks to Matt M. & little Gia for proving a Communication Network Decision Tree can be just as magical as Disney princesses, only the exact opposite of that.
This made me laugh, and seems appropriate with today's decision-making process:
John's been on a baking kick lately, so I've just had strawberry cake for breakfast, minions. Not pancakes, mind you, or donuts or muffins are other socially acceptable morning desserts. I'm talking homemade-buttercream-slathered, jam-filled, multi-tiered CAKE. With strawberry roses on top.
Back off, ladies and gents, this one's MINE. (And John's taken, too.)
Just to drive the point home, here's a picture of me, defending my breakfast:
So before this sugar buzz wears off, let me take you through some of my favorite character cakes. And since I usually focus on popular movie or show characters, let's mix things up with some non-copyright cuties, like these:
Have you heard of Shopkins? I don't fully understand them, but they're these little collectible toys popping up in check-out lines and toy departments everywhere, and I'm fighting a hard battle against being sucked in to the cuteness:
I was an honorary cub scout around age 6, because A) my brother was an actual cub scout, B) our mom was troop leader, and C) we didn't have a babysitter. My only clear memory of that time was making salt dough pretzels with the boys, though, which tasted terrible. The pretzels, I mean. I didn't taste the WHOA THIS GOT DIRTY FAST.
Er, my point is, I don't remember cake at any of our troop meetings, but maybe that was for the best:
These are the extra tiny Cub Scouts. From the future.
Dangit, Michael, not again!
This month was the 107th birthday of the Boy Scouts, so naturally:
The only thing missing is U.
Or a bad Scottish accent. ("Ach! Me wee bairns!"*)
[*Sorry, that's from all the Star Trek books I read as a child. Scotty said it all the time, but I have no idea what it means. If it's something dirty, please accept my apologies/knowing looks & elbow jabs.]
And finally, bakers, why don't you give us the 411?
Or, sure, that works.
Thanks to Colleen R., Miranda E., Robert W., & Amy H. for always being prepared... with their phone cameras.
Ever wish you could earn merit badges for all the boring adulting stuff we have to do? WELL NOW YOU CAN:
The plastic spider leaps out as you slide the door open, and as the recipient of a similar box I can assure you: this thing's a real scream. Perfect for nosy roommates, co-workers, your kids... hey, I'm not here to judge. :p *****