we shall eat cake, and it shall not suck

I’m so fucking tired.

In other news, it’s my birthday weekend! I am going to attempt a chocolate hazelnut crepe cake (O magazine. Woman’s got some kickass recipes). It is THE BEST cake I’ve ever had. And I’ve had lots of cakes. I made it once before – I can’t remember the occasion. It took me all day to make. Literally – I got up in the morning, started cooking, and didn’t stop until some time in late afternoon. You have to make about 3,000 crepes. Speaking of which, last year my birthday totally and completely sucked. There was truly nothing good about it. We had the bowling party, but everybody hated me and I kept getting gutterballs. That would suck, right?

So I’ve made a decision. I’m electing myself president of the world. I’ve learned something from Shrub about being a president. You can do whatever the fuck you want to do. And from now on I’m going to have a good time at my parties, even if the moon explodes, pigs start kissing cows and Jesus comes to take us away.

Being the president of the world is very freeing. I reccomend it to everyone. I get to have unpopular beliefs without fear because in my world nobody can vote me out. I can have whichever advisors I want around me. And when somebody’s bill I really disagree with ends up on my desk, I can veto the SHIT out of it. Of course, with presidency comes a higher level of responsibility. The balance is the beauty of it. It’s shaping up to be a good year.


4 responses to “we shall eat cake, and it shall not suck

  1. i used to actively campaign for queen of the universe — had a platform, promised certain concessions in exchange for votes. one of my most popular positions was eliminating the dynamic where you had to actually get over craving something before it would come your way.

    then i got crippled.

    voltaire said “god is a comedian playing to an audience too terrified to laugh.”

    but if you CAN laugh, it’s a fun ride.

    the cake sounds awesome. i used to love watching julia child on TV making crepes, booming away in her non-stop narrative, turning out two crepes a minute. here’s to cakes that never sucketh.

  2. I’m writing you in, Ripley.

  3. Your comment made me dust off the cd with my theme song on it – Madonna’s “Ray of Light”. Listening to it made me cry like I was pregnant all over again, making promises to little Sprout in my belly, on the long drive home from work. May she also be the goddess of her universe.

  4. All right, Ripley said I could say it:

    Watch out for that cripple with the fucking FLAMETHROWER, Baby!!

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