Way to "Go," Dad

There are no words....

to explain these words:

My, my. "Daddy" looks rather flushed, doesn't he?

Frankly, I'm not sure which would be more disturbing: a father giving this cake to his daughter, or someone referring to any kind of toilet activity as "daddy love." [gagging] Yeah. Ok, well, if you'll excuse me, I have to go hack up a hairball now.

Solli S., you're #1 in my book. (And #2 in "Daddy's.")

- Related Wreckage: Any Occasion Will Do

Patriot Day

Today you're going to see a lot of beautiful and touching 9/11 tributes. That's good. If you're like me, you're going to get a little teary-eyed, and maybe it will be a bit harder to remember all the little things you usually laugh about. Maybe that's why you're here. And you know what? That's good, too. We should celebrate our heroes. We should remember our loved ones. But we should also - and with great pride, I might add - eat patriotic donut holes.

Wait.

What?

Oh. Well, as long as it's printed on the label, then I guess it's Ok. Remember, if you don't eat your Patriotic Donut Holes, the terrorists win!

Although now that I'm looking at these things, I do see a problem: There are only red and white donut holes. No blue! Don't think I don't see what's going on here, either. That's right, Canada: I'm watching you.

Those are rather generic for Patriot Day, though, don't you think? Can we get something a little more...I dunno, holiday-specific?

Oh yes, they did. The twin towers...on a cupcake cake. (Patooie!) Wow. And...fireworks? Um. Ohhh kaaay. (Let the debate begin, again!)

Right, maybe we should head back into the generic territory:

Uncle Sam wants YOU...

to work out with teensy little dumbbells. Or turn that frown upside down - twice. Or maybe just enroll in an art class. (Uncle Sam can be a little hard to understand sometimes.)

Hm. Look, there has to be a middle ground between donut holes and icing depictions of the towers, right? How about just a nice, uplifting, appropriately-worded sentiment?

"Never Foget"?

Well, that IS pretty memorable.

Thanks to Cari, Megan, & Jolly D., who are all "unfogetable."

- Related Wreckage: A Cake Wrecks Salute

Happy Labor Day!

I'd like to wish you all a very happy Labor Day in true Cake Wrecks fashion.


(So, you know, you might want to put that coffee down.)


Can I get a virtual drum roll, please?

[cymbal crash!]

Amanda N., here's a cake that doesn't need any cutting remarks from me; no matter how you slice it, this baby is hands-down the best gut-buster I've seen in a looong time.

Bonus Pun: Say, do you suppose this bakery delivers? (Booyah!)



- Related Wreckage: Hey Everybody, Thish Cake ish from Holland. Ishn't that Vierd?

If You Want Something Done Right...

"Darling, I don't mean to criticize - because I appreciate your ordering the shower cake, I really do. It's just that...well...I asked you to get a baby basket."

"And I'm just not sure this is conveying the right message.

"No, dear, it will not be fine; now it looks like we're hosting a baby funeral!

"Hm? Well, what about your cupcakes? How are they supposed to help?"

"Aaaaauuugghh!

"Well, what did you expect me to say?!? Yes, I think everyone will 'get the visual', dear. That's the problem.

"Because it's gross, that's why!

"Now look, I need you to go back to the bakery - are you listening to me? - I need you to go back to the bakery, and get another cake. And remember: We are preparing for a new life. Happy, cheerful, life. We are avoiding death, mmkay? Got that? Good. Now hurry up; the party starts in an hour."


[Later...]



Dylan B., Angie F., & Meghan E., I'm told that cupcake is vegan. Anyone else find that ironic?

And speaking of which, if you live in Utah and are imagining all the events you could liven up with some gourmet vegan fetus-cupcakes, then you can order them here. (Uh, I don't think they call them fetus-cupcakes, though. And please don't tell them I sent you. Heh.)


- Related Wreckage: You Say Goodbye, and I Say Hello

Buyer's Remorse

Well, ladies, you did it: You've said your vows, the birdseed has been thrown, and now you're ready to hit the reception, do a little Mambo #5 (sure that fad is over, but you like it, dang it), and celebrate with your very own Prince Charming.

[music swelling] I'm talking about the guy of your dreams, the man who swept you off your feet with his suave good looks, his impeccable taste, and his...ah...

[music screeching to a halt] ...closet alcoholism?

Yep, sorry to break it to you, girls, but some of you are going to learn a lot more about your new hubby than you wanted to at your wedding reception, all thanks to his grooms cake.

Like the fact that not only does he enjoy hunting - that you could deal with - but that he also believes plastering a photo of himself with his latest "kill" on a cake surrounded by real shotgun shells is wedding-appropriate.

[tears welling up] Aw, don't they look happy together? Mr. Romance here really knows the way to a girl's heart, doesn't he? (Through the ribcage with an M-16.)

You could also learn he has a mildly-alarming obsession with the show "Golden Girls":

(Note: that's supposed to be Sofia in his lap, not a twisted granny-version of a blow-up doll.)

And of course every bride finds this kind of humor absolutely hysterical on her wedding day:

Feel the love.

Serena M., Amanda, Christel P., & Morgan G., that grave cake could really make a person blue. At least his/her tongue, anyway.


- Related Wreckage: When Men Design Their Own Cakes

Reality Bites

NOTE: This post was written several days ago, and was not intended to be a commentary on any breaking news events. My sincere apologies to any who may find it offensive.

Cake artists, can we talk? I feel like we need to have a little heart-to-heart.

Ok, here's the deal: I know that you guys are talented - I do! - and I get that you like to showcase your talent with the cakes you make.

The only problem is, when you make something like this:

Well, no one wants to eat it.

Not to mention it's depressing; could that look any more funereal?

Look at it from the cake consumer's perspective: would you want to slice into a sleeping baby?

"I call butt!"

Or worse, have a toddler's eyeball staring up at you from your plate?

Yeah, I didn't think so.

So cake sculptors, please, stop making us choose between cake deprivation and feeling like a cannibal. If you must make a baby cake, make it nice and cartoony - preferably with no basis in reality whatsoever.

You know, like this:

Three arms, a gravity defying diaper, and crazy sunglasses? Yep, I'd eat that.

Heather S., Steven K., Michelle G., & Liz J., does that kid really have a 3rd arm sprouting from his chest? Why...I think he does. Pass the milk!

Update: Tons of you are saying that's a butt crack, not an arm. (The rest claim it's Epcot.) I can almost see that, but I still think it looks more like an arm. ;)

- Related Wreckage: You Say Goodbye, and I Say Hello

A Series of Unfortunate Monograms

Who thought this was a good idea?

Or this?

(Never in my life have I so fervently hoped that a cake was chocolate.)

Or, Aunt Flo help us, this?

"So, when's the party?"

"At the end of the month."

Amy M., Jenna B., & Kim W., URQTs. At least, I like to think that you are. Not in a creepy way, of course, or like I know firsthand because I secretly stalk you or anything...that would just be weird. I mean, look, I'm just trying to give you a friendly compliment, in a completely platonic, non-stalker-esque kind of way, Ok? Ok. As you were.


- Related Wreckage: Can You Make a Freudian Slip in Icing?

Christmas in July: Going Dutch

Ok, sure, it's July, and the last thing on your mind is broadening your...uh...mind...with exposure to international holiday traditions - I get it. However, this particular post was deemed by the powers that be* too controversial to post back in December, so all my hard work and sparkling wit got shelved, its radiance cloaked all these long months.

So what changed?

Well, that's a long story. One involving too many mango mojitos, a Chuck marathon, and a malfunctioning alarm clock. (Ok, so maybe it's not that long of a story...)

But enough intro: you guys ready to have those minds broadened? I promise it will only sting a little.

*meaning me, John, and the cat


In the Netherlands Santa Claus (called Sinterklaas) doesn't have elves for sidekicks; he has Zwarte Piet (meaning "Black Pete"). Zwarte Piet is usually played by a white guy in blackface makeup, a curly black wig, and big gold hoop earrings. (I am SO not making this up.)

Here's a reference photo from Wikipedia:

"Get your hand off my robe; you'll make it dirty."

Zwarte shows up in cake form quite a lot, too, and in less than flattering ways:

However, if this seems a little insensitive to you, Wreckporter Kiki has a perfectly reasonable explanation:

"Dutch people claim Pete is black because of the soot in the chimneys he has to climb down to deliver the gifts."

OH, so it's soot! Ok, I get it. And you're right: this does look a lot like Bert the chimney sweep:

source

We all know how Bert liked his lipstick.

And dressing up like Aunt Jemima:

source

This one found by Wouter T. is probably the most wreckish; it looks like the remains of a melting muppet:


Ever heard the expression "in for a penny, in for a pound"? Well, since I'm already stirring up trouble here, I may as well share what Megan H. found at a bakery in Argentina:

They're little cakes called "Africancitos", or "little black men". With bows on their heads. I don't think they're a holiday treat, though, so you can enjoy your little-black-men cake heads any time of the year. "Great for parties!"

(Yes, I've officially crossed the line from horrified disbelief into horrified humor. It's more fun over here - won't you join me?)

To those of you offended by all this, you should know that Zwarte Piet was not intended to be offensive. (Argentina, you're on your own.) And to those of you who see nothing wrong with outdated and racially insensitive traditions, you should take a look at this poster:

Considering the Uterus

Warning: Impending TMI of a medical nature. (In case the title didn't already clue you in.)

Tomorrow I will have the dubious pleasure of having the insides of my uterus cauterized. In honor of the occasion, we could take a look at the uterus in all its glory and learn from the wonders of the human body.

OR...

We could take a look at what other women order when they get their lady-bits worked on. After all, I could use a little inspiration.


(Yeah, I like option "B" better, too.)



This woman nicknamed her baby bag "Tilly", and then ordered it a farewell cake, like so:


Hm. Not a bad idea, really. Of course, coming up with just the right nickname for your internal organs can be a mixed bag - er, no pun intended. Plus, I'd have to give mine a guy's name, since I refuse to believe any female would inflict such horrors on another. So...The McCramper? Sweeney Todd? Sir-Clumps-A-Lot? I'm open to suggestions, obviously.

Elizabeth made this nifty Operation cake for her mom, who was feeling kinda down about an impending hysterectomy:

Elizabeth writes, "My friends said I should have made a driver's license with her picture and changed the F to an M, but since I didn't want her to kill herself, I just made this."

Good call, Elizabeth. Having the cake recipient collapse in a sobbing heap can be such a killjoy. Far better to take the more chipper, Pollyanna-ish route:

Although there is the possibility that wishing someone a "happy" hysterectomy could lead to a different kind of meltdown: Anyone remember Wendi Aaron's famous "Happy Period" rant at Always maxi pads? If not, and you don't mind a little language, you should check it out.

Here's my favorite line:

"...there will never be anything "happy" about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlúa and lock yourself in your house just so you don't march down to the local Walgreens armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life in a blaze of glory."

Ah, which of us hasn't been there, eh, ladies? Or are there right now? ("Husband!! Bring me more Kahlua!!")


Some women obviously have a better relationship with their bits than I do, though:

Friends? Friends?!?
("Husband!! I mean it!!")

Now granted, I'm not having Sir-Clumps-A-Lot removed tomorrow, but that doesn't mean I'm any less apprehensive about the anesthesia and the whole, you know, cauterizing thing. So if any of you have some spare well wishes to send my way, the doctor's way, the Almighty's way, etc., I'd sure appreciate it.


Oh, and for the most realistic-looking (ie shiiiny) uterus cake yet, check out Debbie's here.


Thanks to Wreckporter Hall-of-Famer Monique R. for finding the last three.


UPDATE: For all of you asking if vasectomy cakes will be next: Been there, done that. :D

Too Soon?

Michael Jackson died Thursday afternoon. Barely 24 hours later, Laura H. found these in her local bakery:


Yeesh. Ok, so it's America, and I get that we tend to capitalize on tragedy - I mean, have you seen "I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here"? - but this seems to be pushing the bounds of good taste, don't you think?

And on top of the whole "let's eat the face of the deceased" thing, they went and made it worse by making them CCCs. [ptoooiee!]

Ah, the perils of putting a group photo on a memorial cake...

Plus, logistically this begs a question: how exactly do you separate the cupcakes in a CCC when there's a large edible image on them? From my experience, that paper is pretty thick.

Two words: dash placement.

Still, I suppose the question of how you eat it is secondary to "who thought this was a good idea?" Even if the wreckerator's motives were pure, couldn't s/he have put a little more effort into them? I mean, these things give ugly a run for its money.

And finally, I know I'm opening Pandora's box here, but what do you guys think about eating a decorated cake to commemorate someone's death? Seems to me there's a reason most funerals have pie: cake symbolically represents celebration. Granted, we should celebrate someone's life in their memory, but you certainly don't want to be seen as celebrating that the person died.

So again, what do you think? Are these cakes some morbid capitalistic ploy, or simply a sweet gesture?

Aaaand....discuss.

Why Beat a Dead Horse...

When you can eat one?


Am I right, Christin C.?

What's that? Ah, Robyn N. wants me to up the ante! Ok, how about a horse/cow mash-up cupcake cake?

No matter where you go, that eye will be watching - aaaallllways waaatching....
Check out the icing depth, too; most impressive.


Oh, but look! We have another contender entering the ring!
That thar's a mighty small pho-to for such a gee-gantic Wreck, Brio. Yeehaw! This buckaroo may only work out his front legs, but them fillies shore don't complain. (This concludes my attempt at a Texas drawl. Y'all.)

Allison's trying to get ahead (get it? A head?) with this sporty specimen:


Heh. That startled expression makes him look like he just inhaled that baseball Hoover-style.

But the undisputed winner has to be this one from Celeritas:

"Hey mister, why the long face?"

Ahahahah!

Next time I'll tell ya the one about the bartender and the grasshopper.

You would think that every horse head cake would come served on a pillow, though, wouldn't you?

Oh, wait - looks like I spoke too soon:


Ewww. I'm all for movie references, Erin M., but that's definitely an offer I can refuse.

NOTE: If this post looks familiar, there's a reason for that. And if it doesn't, that means you don't check CW first thing every morning, and should be ashamed of yourself. Hmph. Call yourself a Wreckie, do you? Where's your sense of Wrecky loyalty? Where's your pride? Where's the frickin' remote? (Seriously, I lost it. Have you seen it?)

Wrecks Rerun

NOTE: Today's original post of horse cakes has been pulled due to some horrendously bad timing on the part of the universe. (I was out of the country until yesterday, and so only learned of the tragic polo horse deaths this morning.) Rest assured that I'm not that intentionally insensitive, and I certainly meant no offense to horses or horse-lovers. I'll run the original post again in a few weeks, but for today, enjoy this classic Wreck rerun from the CW archives.


The sky is falling! The sky is falling! Quick, someone make a cake!

Yes, there's nothing quite like plummeting balloons and unconscious clowns to celebrate your own personal apocalypse. Anyone have some radiation-free milk to go with?

Belly Cakes, Continued

I believe I ended yesterday by saying that belly cakes were in dire need of some serious sex appeal. Well fortunately, a couple of Anony Mice have come to the rescue. Now then, I'll just cue up some sexy saxophone "Muzak" for atmosphere...

[Accordion instrumental of the "Chicken Dance" begins to play]

Whoops! Haha! Sorry - wrong CD. [fumbling with disks]

[Sax rendition of "Whole New World" begins]

Theeere we go. Much better. Ok. Y'all ready?

Ta Da!

Or should I say "Ta Ta?" [wicked grin]

Something about this brings the image of Han Solo frozen in carbonite to mind. But hey, killer nips!

Still, it's just not sexy enough, you know? I mean, it still has some clothes on.

Enter the "Sexy Suds" belly cake!

This clean bit of fun was submitted by the baker herself, although she asked to remain anonymous. And hey, it IS a beautifully done cake - it's just also a pregnant torso wearing nothing but bubbles. (Woo woo woo!)

But you wanna know the best part? Anony writes:

"The highlight was that the belly was filled with custard and with a tacky little plastic baby inside. When the Mom-to-be cut into the cake she had to use forceps (kitchen-tongs) to remove the plastic baby. Honestly, it was VERY funny at the time."

Oh I believe you, my friend - I do. Just remember: It's all fun and games 'til it ends up on Cake Wrecks*. Or 'til mom-to-be's in in the delivery room talking smack and brandishing a pair of kitchen tongs. One of the two, anyway. ;)


*I admit it: This is a shameless plug to sell more CW aprons.

Return of the Belly Cake

So tell me, how long's it been since you stared at a pregnant woman's naked belly?

Wow, that long? Well, have no fear! As long as belly cakes are made, I promise to never let you forget what a pregnant woman's torso looks like. Or at least a fondant-covered version of one, anyway. Consider it my personal Cake Wrecks guarantee to you.

You're welcome.

Now, you would be forgiven for seeing a bald Ziggy doll in a bib here at first. (I know I sure did.) After all, I don't think I've ever featured a belly cake with the oh-so-authentic "belly line" before.

Speaking of which: When I first saw this cake I had no idea what that line was or why it was there, since I've never been pregnant. So I mentioned it to a then-pregnant friend. My friend was quite helpful and, despite my protests, insisted on whipping up her dress to show me the line on her own belly. Which was...unexpected. Kelly R., I have you to thank for that bit of enlightenment. So thanks. Really.


I used to think that part of the belly cake's creepiness was due to its having no head. Then Melody W. sent this in:


And I totally changed my mind.

By the way, I've never seen a belly button look quite so much like a...well... belly button before. It totally looks like a tufted pillow. Or maybe the end of a giant hot dog. [head tilt] Ok, yeah: let's stick with "pillow."

You know what these belly cakes are missing, though? No, no, besides that. Sex appeal, that's what. Totally. Tune in tomorrow for a few spicy numbers that you are sure to remember far, far into the future. Like, deathbed future, even. (I'm trying to ramp up your sense of anticipation. Is it working?)

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.