15 September 2013
"chicken and pickle getting married" - this f*cking weekend, pt. 2
yes, this is part two of a two-part post. if you want to read part one, just click here...
just kidding. stop being so fucking lazy. scroll down. or read them out of order. i'm not going to tell you how to live your life.
anyway, my boss asked for a cake for her engagement party. again, a bunch of real people (a lot of them my bosses*) were going to be at this party. no sober six-year-olds, but still... it wasn't just me and my friends at some power hour in studio city where you're lucky if you can even find a clean shot glass and you might as well just give up and drink out of some tupperware. this was a real engagement party. at a real place. that served wine... so, classy as fuck.
on top of that, i was asked to make this a cake of cats... her cats... getting married. oh, no trouble, i've made like ten cakes of chicken and pickle - riding bikes, buying their first car, opening a checking account, you name it. but, unfortunately, i'd never done one of them getting married. so, in order to get the coloring of chicken and pickle's coats just right, it took like 3-10 hours of stalking pictures of them on facebook. like, what line of work brings together all my favorite things like this? dream job!!!
now, in my research, i learned that chicken and pickle are siblings. so, not only does this cake promote bestial matrimony, but, also, incest. sassy badger is nothing if not political.
anyway, at the end of the day, i feel like this cake went really well. the happy couple seemed pleased. chicken and pickle haven't returned my phone call yet.
but, overall, it was a fairly successful weekend, given the circumstances i outlined in part one. i did learn some things though.
1. never, ever, ever, ever work without a refrigerator. ever. why even bother living without one, really? you might as well just end it all and look forward to that stainless-steel-top-freezer-Kenmore-with-an-ice-dispenser-in-the-sky. i hear god always keeps the dispenser set to crushed, though, unfortunately.
2. don't ever, ever, ever, ever attempt such a busy weekend without the help of the woman who passed you through her vagina and then, an indeterminate amount of time later, taught you all her cake-decorating wisdom. you'd be nothing without her, and your cakes would suck, and you'd have no friends.
sorry for getting personal there. but seriously, thanks, mom.
TOTAL DECORATING TIME: 3.5 hours + a quick shot up my dress for the valet as i tried to lug this thing out of the car. who should be tipping who, buddy?
owner of nine lives,
*just realizing i have a lot of bosses.