Few people realize are even aware of it when they start heading down the path to becoming “Evil.”
I’ll just say this: beware if you find yourself making outrageous claims like “I invented cake pops…”
Tastebud bandit. Olfactory outlaw. Textural terrorist. Mouthfeel mobster. Call me what you want, but it when it comes to food, there’s one thing you should know about me: I don’t give a single solitary ----- about all y’all’s arbitrary ‘rules.’
I even once had a teacher1”…and Ms. Hansen was her name-o!” accuse me of “murdering a baked potato.” Honestly, though, I would argue that smothering a tuber in ketchup and then drowning it in even more catsup is halfway normal. I mean, hello?!? French fries, much?
Biscuit, please!
In college, I would get many a strange look for my habit of eating a banana with a packet of Miracle Whip in class. Growing up, my dad’s signature fruit salad featured apples, bananas, raisins, and Miracle Whip. I was just deconstructing what I already knew to be a palate-pleaser. While haters be busy talking smack, I be busy smacking my lips on a tasty-ass2And, in retrospect, slightly homoerotic. snack.
You get the idea: my jaw chews to the beat of its own drummer, and I’m…weirdly passive-aggressive about it?
Speaking of college, hands-down the best part of my university experience was access to communal desserts in the cafeteria. When everybody else was busy claiming the cake pan was 100% empty like a bunch of fools, I, the eternal optimist,3See also: Fiddy Percent. would be busy piling my plate high with a mound of 100% ----- delicious mixture of frosting and crumbs.
It wasn’t long before I was obsessed with shamelessly collecting cake crumbs like a bona fide addict. At weddings, I was infamous for always requesting that the cake servers scrape their cake knives off on a designated plate that I would later collect and consume with the greatest of gustos.
I mean, have you I ever even had a ball of that super-moist layer of wedding cake that always sticks to the platter? It’s flippin’ mind-blowing–and that’s even before you add that crack-laced wedding cake frosting!
I think I could laud the praises of CrumbBalls (TM) for hours–I mean, not to #HumbleBrag too hard, but they’re a pure palatial revelation. And, yes, I’m pretty dang proud of myself for having the guts to think outside the cake mix box, if you haven’t noticed already.
I must say though, the one downside is that once you’ve experienced cake this way, boring old cake just doesn’t cut it any more.
Fortunately for me though, through the sage life wisdom one can only acquire in their 20s, I eventually realized that I could approximate the effect by thoroughly smashing a well-frosted piece of regular cake with a fork until it was a yummy ball of crumby goodness. I even once opined to the Boss Lady…
Me: “This is genius! If we can find a way to market this we could be so ----- rich!”
BLM: “Um…I think Starbuck’s may have beat you to the punch…”
Me:4https://knowyourmeme.com/memes/all-your-base-are-belong-to-us
BLM: “Yeah, isn’t that pretty much what a cake pop is?”
Me: “Noooooooooooooooo!”
*Does quick internet research*5References: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cake_pop , https://www.bakerella.com/page/13/?s=cake+balls”No. No. NO. The first digital record of cake pops are from December 2007–I’ve been CrumbBallin'(TM) it up since 1999!”
*Slams laptop lid down* “You know what this means, right?”
BLM: …
Me: “I invented cake pops! Me–me, me me! And I’m getting none of the credit–oh, the injustice!”
Back in 2012 when we lived in Hawai’i, the Boss Lady and I got into the habit of hitting up the local frozen yogurt chain on a regular basis. We were trying to live the pono (healthy) lifestyle and all, so this seemed like a decent dessert option.
In theory, at least.
In practice, I would end up getting the tiniest of dollops of froyo before proceeding to lightly season it with M&M’s, Snickers, Butterfingers, Reeses’ Peanut Butter Cups, gummi worms, and, when available, Nerds. Oh, and by “lightly season” I mean “smother and drown.” Best of intentions, amiright?
I eventually gave up on pretending to be healthy and instead embraced the debauchery that it was. Being ever the witty fellow, I even dubbed my creation the “All-Hallow’s Day Special,” in honor of the beautiful, gluttonous sugar-orgy that the archetypical American kid experiences every November 1st. I know, I know. Clever, right?
Then I saw this on TV a few weeks ago:
Son of a biscuit...
The point of the story is don’t be that whiny little biscuit who won’t shut the hell up about all the credit they’re not getting. It’s just tiresome to be around, man. And trust me–I’ve had to listen to one of those asshats my entire life6In case it’s not clear, Mother, I’m referring to myself.…
Oh, by the way, here’s those chestnuts I promised you…just promise me you’ll watch to the end for the real, uh, “chestnut”:
You’re welcome!
Content created on: 28/29 October 2020 (Weds/Thurs)
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