Trekkin' and Wreckin'

ATTN Parents: Today's post may not be appropriate for junior cadets.

The saga of the bakeshop Wrecksurprise continues...

Captain’s Log, accidental:

Much has happened on our journey so far.

We cleared out some Cling-ons in orbit around Uranus...

...but the resulting explosion caused a gas giant to rip through the fabric of space time.

Even worse, now the engine room smells like cabbage. Ick.

We made contact with a new species on the outer reaches of the gamma quadrant. We had some initial trouble communicating...

...so I had sex with it, just to be safe.

Then I had to shoot it with a harpoon.

But I think we made some real progress there, all the same.

A transporter malfunction resulted in our first casualty:

I guess you could say he croaked. Haha!

And on a personal note, this crew has NO sense of humor during funerals. Seriously.
Bunch of killjoys, all of 'em.

Oh, and we lost another member of security:

We're not sure which one, though, since those red shirts never seem to last more than a few days.

In other news, there was a bit of a faux pas at our dinner with the Tellarian ambassador. It seems the new chef considers himself something of a practical joker:

Needless to say, the ambassador was not amused.

Anyway, long story short, we're now at war with Tellar Prime. Oopsie.

So, I guess you could say it's been an interesting week so far. Now we're on our way to Vulcan to assist with their first annual Knock-Knock Joke Competition. I can't wait to give them a hand!

***

"Knock knock."

"I do not understand."

"Just say 'who's there.'"

"But I already know your identity."

"Yes, but it's for the joke."

"This is a joke?"

"You better believe it, brother."

***

"Knock knock."

"This is illogical."

"Knock knock."

" ... "

"Knock knock."

"Very well. Who is there?"

"Orange."

"The Terran fruit or the pigment?"

"It doesn't matter. Either one."

"Then I choose Earth's pithy citrus."

"...You know what? NEVER MIND."

.....

"I do not 'get it.'"

Thanks to Shannon K., Jenny C., Leila A., Lindy D., Dawn E., Erin, Jed R., and again to Sharyn for the continued inspiration.  Happy Towel Day, guys!  May your petunias live long and prosper!

Two Steps Forward And Three Wrecks Back

When I first took up arms against the dreaded cupcake cake [patooie!] so many years ago, I never dreamed I would have such an impact on our nation's baked goods. Why, with the help of you readers, I've managed to rip back the curtain of Big Frosting's corporate deception and ineptitude, and reveal the fuzzy, sugar-crusted, frosting-smeared private parts of inhuman indecency.

INHUMAN INDECENCY.

After years of our virtual spitting and no-holds-barred, blistering mockery, I'm happy to report that bakeries have finally begun changing their evil CCC ways.

Granted, it's to stuff that's way worse, but still. Let's focus on the positive here.

For example, this is NOT a cupcake cake:

It's a "baked mountain." Or BM, for short.

Now, is it even messier than a CCC - something they said could never be done?
Yes.
Is it repulsive enough to have been assembled by a drunken yak?
Yes. Is it STILL not enough frosting?

HECK YEAH!

I MEAN, NO. I MEAN, YES, THAT'S NOT ENOUGH FROSTING.
(THAT WAS A VERY HARD QUESTION TO ANSWER WITH A SIMPLE YES OR NO.)

Ahem.

Enter the "Brownie Dipper."

It's a quart of frosting with a dash of sprinkles and brownie bites mixed in.

COWER AND WEEP, YE INSOLENT MASSES!

COWER... AND WEEP!

Because a brownie without frosting is like stick butter that hasn't been deep fried.
And also: 'MURRICA!

Now, I don't know about you, but I often think back to my poor, deprived childhood, back when gingerbread cookies didn't come with a half-inch layer of buttercream and freakish plastic flotsam heads.

I'm actually tearing up a little.

But you're probably wondering, "Gee, Jen, what ELSE could bakers cram together and cover in enough frosting to make my pancreas self-implode from mere proximity?"

I'm glad you asked.

How about cinnamon buns?

...shaped like the Lombardi trophy?

Um...

Hang on a sec.

[googling "Lombardi Trophy"]

Ah.

BWAHAHAHAAAA!!!

(P.S. - I know nothing about sports, but even *I* can tell that thing is a puddle of Terminator.)

Still, those buns have a few frosting-free spots on them. Can't have that, now, can we?

Say hello to my new favorite pyramid scheme!

I'd also like to note that this Baked Mountain is really living up to its initials.

Still, you know what we really REALLY need? Donuts...in the shape of a dragon. With bacon. And more frosting. And more bacon. And a creepy skeleton wedding topper.

Yeah. That would be pretty epic, alright.

[whistling innocently]

On the one hand, I am deeply ashamed that this exists in our society today.

On the other...

DIBS ON THE TAIL.

Thanks to Kelly M., Bethany T., Jenn B., Kimberly, Karen F., and Tim & Angella D. for revealing my secret shame.