Merry Misfits

Unfortunately, these guys tend to get passed over come pageant time.

First there's Ginger, the deranged, dandruff-riddled cookie:

Sure she's a bit flaky, but be careful; Ginger snaps.

Then there's Harry, the five o'clock shadow elf:

As you can see, Harry likes to make a pig of himself.

Poopsie & Flopsie always know how to bring the holiday cheer:

Yep. Once they leave, everyone is MUCH more cheerful.

Humpty here likes to talk with his hands:

I would translate, but there are children present.

Then there's Tiny:

I tried to warn Tiny about cutting in front of that shaman, but would he listen? Noooo.

[singing] But do you recaaall...

The most famous misfit of all?

Yes, it's...

Poo-Dolph, the Bulldozed, Slain Deer!

Jessica S., Kim C., Erin F., Mike Y., & Anony M., I totally need Poo-Dolph on a t-shirt.

- Related Wreckage: The Haunted Holidays

Hail, Hailoween!

So my question is this: how heavy does your southern accent have to be that you not only pronounce it "Hailoween", but you also think it's spelled that way?

Go on, say it out loud. It's fun. You know you want to.

Hah! See? Told you it was fun.

And speaking of Wrecked inscriptions...

I'm kind of getting a mixed message here.

And speaking of things that are mixed up...

I think somebody needs an anatomy lesson.

And speaking of anatomy:

These are NOT what you think they are.

Unless you think they're simply flesh-colored versions of a "pumpkin" and a "haystack," that is. Then they are what you think they are. Allegedly.

Kind of like how this is allegedly a pumpkin:

...and NOT a turd exploding on the sun.

Chickpea, Katie H., Sarah C., Bill P., & Rebekah F., that stem really wipes out the competition, doesn't it?

- Related Wreckage: Why You Don't Raid Other People's Refrigerators

Oh, It Sends a Message Alright

The label on this says it's a "message cookie":


Now, I'm just ballparking here, but I think the message might be something along the lines of:

"When I think of you, I think of bug-infested poop. And football. Because I hate football."

Gee, at this point, why not just cut to the chase?

"The Message Cookie: When you hate enough to actually spend money on more clearly expressing your hatred."


Remember, E.M., if you're ever offered a poo-spotted football cake, the proper response is: "Thanks, but I think I'll pass."


- Related Wreckage: Graduate! Celebrate! "Decorate!"

"Serious" Eats

For day two of our CW "Virtual" Tour we'll be virtually visiting Serious Eats. This food blog has something for everyone, whether you're a seasoned foodie (heh, "seasoned") or a bumbling incompetent in the kitchen like myself. So in honor of the occasion, here are some of the least appetizing food cakes I could find. Yeah. You're welcome, foodies.

Let's kick things off with a zesty selection of grilling poo, shall we?

Bam! There's nothing quite like charbroiled poo patties, is there?

"Abort! Abort! Those aren't sausages!!"

And speaking of flaming piles of...er, flames...how about some Smores?

That's everything you need right there: graham crackers, chocolate, airbrushed marshmallows on popsicle sticks, and enough red dye to give your dentist nightmares. Mmm.

Sometimes John and I worry that we eat take-out just a little too much. It's nice to know we're not the only ones, though:

That's a grooms' cake (note the oh-so-matrimonial rose petals). I especially love how the baker just cut out the Taco Bell logo and bells from the paper wrappers. Heh.

And lastly, I'd like to share my very own Cake Wrecks Wreck-cipe:

Step 1) Find a dropped cake that is beyond all hope of repair. (Alternatively, you can substitute a cake you dropped yourself.)

Step 2) Pipe a giant pink tube of icing down the middle of the cracked cake.

Step 3) Add sprinkles (Because everyone wants sprinkles.)

Step 4) Call it a "Hot Dog Cake"

See? Now that's a recipe I think I can handle.


Check out my interview with Erin Zimmer, where we talk about cakey controversies, other bloggers, and more, here.

Thanks to Amie A., Mel W., Brantly S., & Amy G.!

- Related Wreckage: Mixed Grill

"World" Tour Reminder: Hey, Orlando! Don't forget to come see me and John tonight at 5pm. Details are in the right sidebar. Hope to see y'all there!

Butterfly Misses

[singing] "There's two things I know for sure:

"These Wrecks number seven..." (okay, six)

"And they'll make you want to hurl!"

Sorry for inflicting you with that song. Heh. Ok, now let's see how else bakeries destroy the seemingly simple butterfly, shall we?

First, every Wreckerator knows you have to make butterflies out of cupcakes. Otherwise, you run the risk of them looking like...well, butterflies.

And we can't have that, now, can we?

But malformed, lumpy wings just aren't enough. Sometimes a wacky mustache is needed:

"Oui oui, I believe I have, how you say, wee wee'd mehself! Hon hon hon!"

Or maybe a turd-errific, camo-riddled model:

Uh, guys? Exactly which demographic are you going for here? I mean, I don't think little boys are wild about butterflies, and little girls don't usually like camo OR poop.

Luckily, though, some butterflies still get a happy ending.

Charlotte F., Raven, Rachael, Rebecca R., Jessica A., & Bijan P., stop looking at me like that; I was merely referring to his smiley face. Really.

- Related Wreckage: It's a Wreck Off!

Who Ordered the Poo Poo Platter?

Some Wrecks are misspelled,

Some use rapier wit.
Others are just ugly,
But these are full of...

uh, poo-like frosting clumps.

Can you handle the truth, Mandy F.?

Amy H. & Clinton C., who gets to dig the plastic plate out of all that frosting, and who gets to pinch off one of those "logs"?

Whatever you do, Jan A., do NOT zoom in on that mouse butt. Don't do it.


Ashley, as far as ads for fast-acting laxatives go, this one could be a tad more subtle.

And finally, Melissa H. found this perfect pile:

Yech. Let's just hope that "cowboy rope" has nothing to do with those nasty rumors about John Wayne's colon. Although, serving these kind of cupcakes certainly would make an impact, don't you think?


Related Wreckage: And For That Crowning Touch...

Better Dieting Through Cake

NOTE: Now really isn't the time to start eating that bagel - or anything else, for that matter. :D


So, are you ready for swimsuit season? No? Then join the Cake Wrecks Appetite-Suppression Program, and get a thinner you in no time!

Yes, that's right! With a steady "visual diet" of Wrecks like these:

You'll find yourself craving all foods less and less!

For example: Are you having a hard time saying "no" to fatty animal shanks? (Because, really, who isn't?) Well, with our proven "You'll Hope They're Cloves!" model, you're guaranteed to never desire streaky blackened meat-on-the-bone ever again!

You're already reconsidering that lunch order, aren't you? Now imagine the results you'll get with a full 24/7 regimen!

It's so easy! The Cake Wrecks Appetite-Suppression Program contains a heart-healthy sculpted-cake medley of:

Disgusting food products...

(Red meat, green meat, meat that oozes, meat that's rare...)

Enlarged insects...

(Post-stompage for maximum effectiveness)

And of course, plenty of poo-like piles...

(Just a little dab'll do ya!)

All guaranteed to get you the results you want!

And for those dieting emergencies when you need an extra-strength dose of appetite suppressing Wreckage, there's our special "medical specimens" selection:

Filled with jelly, so you won't fill your belly!

Melinda A., Tricia A., Kathleen, Jenn J., Kristin, & Debra F., eat your heart out.

Or don't, 'cuz that's kinda gross.


*Related Wreckage: The Cake Head Diet Aid

Willy's First Order of Business

Kids get the coolest birthday cakes, don't they? And the younger they are, the more colorful the cake, it seems. Why, just look at this explosive bit of fun little William got to celebrate his first birthday:


Wow, it sure IS "fun to be one" when you have a tombstone for a candle! Yessirree, Willy, urine for a treat with this little number (two)!!

This does look kinda familiar, though. Huh. Now where have I seen this before....?

Oh, now I remember:


Well, if you're going to use the yellow and brown color scheme, you might as well "go" all the way, eh? A "royal flush" of cakedom for a real "whiz kid", if you will?


Caroline S. & Amy G., John and I are trying to eat better. This post may be our first step on the path to skipping many meals.

As We Fumble Along

After extensive research of all the baffling, exclamation point-riddled status updates I've been seeing on FB and Twitter, I've concluded that something either is happening, has happened, or will happen in the world of sports.

After a few wild guesses and a Magic 8-Ball consult, I've concluded that these happenings are "most likely" football-related.

Is this a football? "Ask Again Later."

This has me at a distinct disadvantage, since frankly I know about as much about football as I do that mysteriously emptied Reese's Chocolate Clusters bag on the kitchen counter. Which is to say absolutely nothing.

(Ok, that's not entirely true. I think I saw the cat sniffing the bag of chocolates earlier. So I'd definitely question her, John. Yeah.)

Still, I can guess that this frankenpoo butterfly with fuzzy monster wings is supposed to be a football:


And that this next one is probably a "football field" in some Wreckerator's wildest dream:

(I'm talking a What Dreams May Come kinda wildest dream here, not a Field of Dreams kind of dream. But you probably got that already, right?)

Besides, you don't have to know the game to realize that fecal footballs are really never a good idea:

Especially when placed next to perfectly decent-looking football picks.
Bakers, ever hear the expression, "Don't park your ass next to a thoroughbred?" Just curious.

Could be worse, though. It could have fecal footballs with urine-yellow icing and a big ol' dual-meaning inscription like "Go Team" on it. Not that anyone would ever do something that...

Oh, no.

Really?

Really.

[sigh]

Well, there it is.

Although now that I look at it, I'm actually kind of disappointed there isn't a "We're #1!" on it somewhere, or "Go long" or something with the word "pass" in it. Hehehe. Wow, I never realized there were so many potty puns in sports! That almost makes them slightly more interesting. (The puns - not the sports.)

Finally, here's one more design someone clearly didn't think all the way through:

Ok, let's be generous and assume the Wreckerator meant "Touchdown," but for some reason couldn't remember how to spell "down."

Even then, you know there are FB pics out there of a bunch of drunken guys posing with this cookie cake held in very, shall we say, strategic locations. Not good, bakers, not good.


Could Diana A., Marisa H., Sue B., Meryl, Julie M., & Jessica L. be the best Wreckporters ever? Signs point to yes.

- Related Wreckage: Score!

NOTE: For the one person out there wondering: yes, today's title is inspired by The Drowsy Chaperone. For the rest of you: that's a musical with two punny gangsters in it posing as pastry chefs. Need I say more?

NOTE from john: We are currently unable to publish your comments. You can still write them but we won't be able to put them up for a little bit. Our "Epcot" advisory is at Orange.

Look Out, Germany

I don't mean to brag, but I'm pretty much an expert on the German language. Yep. Two point five years of public high school German right heeere, playah! In fact, I would be saying all this "auf Deutsch," but I don't want to dazzle y'all with my linguistic...um...awesomeness.

Anyway, I mention this because today's Wreck is so hilariously horrendous that I may have to lapse into German to adequately describe it.

Ready?

Here goes:

Gross unpassend fliegend Fekalie-Kuchen!
Taschenrechner!!
Wo IST die Toiletin? Fahrvergnügen?
Ich bin ein Berliner! Schnell! Schnell!

Ahem. Well, I think that gets the point across.

It should be noted that the cake was supposed to read, "Germany, HERE we come!" (Ah, those pesky, hilarity-inducing homonyms.)

Whether the cake was supposed to look like a baked poo souffle with a side of #2 nuggets, however, is anyone's guess. (Although I'm guessing "no.")

Hey, Sarah R., keep it down, will ya?

- Related Wreckage: Oh, It Sends a Message, Alright

Note from john: Since I don't sprecht Deutsch, I don't know what half of you are saying. Please, no clever Germanic cussing. There's probably at least one German kid that reads this blog. Dunker Shane.

The #2 Way to Ruin a Cake

Step #1: Take a perfectly decent-looking cake

Step #2: Add random poo piles - just for giggles.

C'mon, everybody, sing it with me: "Chain chain chaaaaain! Chain of poos!!"

Eh? What's that? You think those are simply palm tree poos? Ok, I guess I could see that. But, can you explain...[dramatic pause]...THIS?

?!?

Actually, this isn't too much of a leap if you figure the customer asked for a "Princess and the Pea" cake. [wicked grin]


Then there are the stock designs with poo built right in:

Poor Wall-E. I bet right about now he's wishing the humans had stayed in space.

And to think: this is what "passes" for "cake decorating." But hey, maybe the designer was wiped out after a hard day logging too many hours, and got a little lax? If so, let that be a lesson to us all: don't push too hard; you'll only strain yourself producing crappy results.

:D


And finally, a classic for the ages:

Beauty and the Feces.

Many thanks to my #2 wreckporters Kelli N., Wendi P., Stacey B., Jenny, & Sara B.

- Related Wreckage: Who Ordered the Poo Poo Platter?

Valentine's Variety

Because hearts and roses and bears are SO last week, here are some... interesting... alternatives.

For the cat lover: a neon pink, vaguely feline amorphous blob, sporting what I can only assume is some kind of euphemism:

"I'm 'purrin' for you"? Do I want to know, Gabrielle H.?

(And Victoria, Anna, & Benjamin!)

For the Star Wars fan: a cake showing Admiral Ackbar's softer side:

"Don't believe him, Haley B.; it's a trap!"

And for you non-Star Wars geeks, this is Admiral Ackbar:


For the H.P. Lovecraft fan: a Valentine's Cthulhu:

What's a Cthulhu, you ask? Eh, wellll, it's a kind of gigantic hideous tentacled thing, known to be the epitome of evil and horror. And as you can see from Melissa O.'s photo, it also comes in plush!

Speaking of plush...

I don't know what this is, Aliza E., but I think I want one. Whether I would hug it and squeeze it and call it George or actually ingest it, though, is anyone's guess.

And here's a Valentine's treat for the...uh...emotionally constipated?


That's it, Ted S., let it allll out.


Well, it's no fungus cake, but it'll do: I'm skipping breakfast.