It is no secret that I am capable of eating an entire cake by myself. Though no one has witnessed this act, many have seen me slice my own “piece” of cake; it doesn’t take much imagination to guess what happens when I don’t have judging eyes on me. I’ll give you a hint: there is no knife involved.
Cake is my kryptonite. And donuts. And ice cream. Man… I’d make a sucky superhero. Although, I could trap evil villains in a thick flood of buttercream. But I digress. My complete lack of impulse control around cake means I can’t have one in my apartment. Ever. The single exception is my birthday. If you’re ever in charge of getting me a birthday cake, it should be a Publix marble cake, two layer with vanilla buttercream. The more flowers, the better. Continue reading
Adventures of a Hungry Redhead 