Another Open Apology to Canada

So last week we had this troll in the comment section who wouldn't go away, forcing me to actually block someone for the first time ever.

(For those who don't know: a "troll" is someone who leaves inflammatory comments just to get a rise out of people. Things like, "Hitler rocked!" or "Grammer is stoopid" or "That poo pile looks scrumptious!")

NOT SCRUMPTIOUS.

So anyway, while I was in the process of blocking the troll, I kinda sorta accidentally blocked most of Canada.

The country.

Bwoops. 

In this context "shool" is Canada. Try to keep up.

Fortunately I noticed my mistake right away... a couple of days later.

But all is fixed now and I feel terrible about it so today's post is for you, Canada. Because we love you. And we love beaver tails. And poutine. And learning that pronouncing "poutine" like "poo-TAN" can get you in a lot of trouble. ("Excuse me, do you know where I can get some fresh poo-tan? Miss? What's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that? And what's the pepper spray foOWWWAAUUUGGHHH!!")

(Really, Canada, whoever named your signature foods had their minds seriously close to the gutter.)

Now, where were we?

Oh, right: apologizing.

HIT IT, NON-EXISTENT BOYS!

[tapping mike]
[queuing up a sultry beat]
[giving thumbs up to well-dressed backup singers]
[clearing luscious Barry White voice]

Ooooohoohoo!
Canada, baaaaby...
I'm sorry, girl...

Well-dressed back up singers: "Heeeeee's reallyreallysorry SHOOP SHOOP!"

I'm sorry for, like, taking away your Cake Wrecks for two full days, baby.

"Neeeearly forty-eight hours SHOOP SHOOP!"

I know I work on a computer all day, girl, but sometimes even an expert can make a mistake.

"Heeeee's an expert in cat .gifs SHOOP SHOOP!"

But I know you put your trust in me, girl, and I know I can't give you all those hours back.

"Yooooouuu pro'ly got lots of work done SHOOP SHOOP!"

But if you give me another chance, Canada, girl, I promise I will wreck your world. Yeah. 'Cuz, Canada, baby?

(You may think it's a lie, but it's not.)

Thanks to Ted S., Allison S., Michelle M., Sara B., Ree P., Anony M., & Whitney B. for backing me up on this one. That synchronized snapping was STELLAR, you guys.

Naughty Bits

Note to responsible parental units: Hide ya' kids! Hide ya' wife! Today's post is rated PG!

Here's a behind-the-wreckage tidbit for ya: when you send in your submissions, they get labeled according to what you think is wrong with them. So, if you say your cake looks like a poo-covered-patriotic-pirate-cat cake, it goes in the poo-covered-patriotic-pirate-cat cake folder.

(Note to self: write post about poo-covered-patriotic-pirate-cat cakes.)

Now, my favorite to browse is the "suggestive" category, because, frankly, you guys see naughty bits in everything. It's actually kinda cute, in a maturity-of-a twelve-year-old-boy kind of way.

The only problem is you're corrupting my wife. Seriously. For example:

Me: "What's wrong with this one?"

Jen: "Umm...Oh! I see it now. It's boobs. On the face. [head tilt] In fact, if you cross your eyes a little it almost looks like a scruffy guy with his face pressed..."

Me: FORGET I ASKED.

Me: What about the cute little babies on clouds?

Jen: Clouds? Really? Is THAT what you see there? REALLY?

Me: What? Hey, you're not the judge of me!!

Jen: And I suppose you didn't snicker at ALL over the guy with the giant pole sticking out of his lap.

Me: He's FISHING.

Jen: Well, those fish are definitely getting the shaft, then. HEYOOO! Up high!

Me: YOUR PARENTS READ THIS BLOG WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?

[pause]

Me: Ok, I'll bite: what's wrong with the gavel?

Jen: Er. Actually, I have no idea. I think some of our readers just have their minds in the gutter.

Me: I know, right?

Jen: Like that bathing suit one. Seriously, what's the problem there?

Me: Yeah, beats me. People are so weird.

"Is nice for you! Not."

Thanks to Lindsey W., Leslie W., Deb K., Ashley I., & Jane A. for today's mind-trip. To the gutter.