For some reason my insomnia has been flaring up ridiculously lately. Which makes it sound kinda like an STD. But basically what I mean by that is that I keep going to sleep around 3:30 or 4 in the morning, because my brain has decided it would rather I stare at the ceiling and twiddle my thumbs than drift into sweet dream-riddled slumber. Stupid brain.
|and I can't count sheep, because my sheep are very unruly, and I have to keep far too close of track of them lest they do something untoward. and that's not restful at all.|
So, rather than actually staring at the ceiling, because that’s boring as shit, I’ve developed a penchant for watching TLC reality shows on instant streaming Netflix. I’ll watch like 7 episodes of LA Ink back to back, and then convince myself I have to get about 43 tattoos. This probably has something to do with the fact it’s almost light out again and my poor brain has been on overdrive mode all night, surfing the interwebs and laughing increasingly hysterically at people’s overly dramatic and douchey tattoo stories.
|"the cat totally symbolizes my reconnection with my father. also how much I like cats." (says the dude who got this tattoo, and by that I mean definitely not me)|
But I’m too much of a wuss to actually get all these tattoos, as well as being way too broke. Those things are expensive, you know!
So now I’ve started watching Cake Boss. Which, as far as I can tell, is mostly just this huge Italian family running a bakery by screaming at each other. How anything gets done in that madhouse is completely beyond me. Seriously.
|these are not good management skills.|
They all chase each other around this giant 3 or 4 story bakery, screeching at each other in heavy New Jersey accents and sometimes possibly baking cakes for mobsters. Shaped like roulette wheels. Nobody actually said they were mobsters, but someone may or may not have used the phrase “fughedaboutit”. Also they played the Godfather music for the entire time, and kept making not-so-subtle allusions to gangster hobbies. Like somebody said “whacked”.
|"Also, da boss requires you wiah da cake to explode. 'Cause, uhh... Little Tony likes... uh... surprises. Yeah. Do it. Boom. Fugheddaboutit. No really, we want you to fohget dis evah happened."|
So I’ve transitioned from wanting a ton of tattoos to wanting to eat a lot of cake. I don’t actually want to make cake, because I’m lazy and that’s a lot of work. And to be honest, I don’t really want to eat the cakes on this show, because they’re all covered with fondant. And fondant tastes like play-doh.
|yes, I do actually know what this tastes like, and no, it doesn't taste very good.|
So I’d be content just to eat the leftovers. Or maybe the cupcakes. They look tasty, and they don’t have any nasty fondant all over them.
|you know what? fondant and play-doh might actually be the same thing. Fischer Price has disguised itself as a baking supply store.|
If I ever get married, and have a wedding cake, it won’t have any fondant on it. ‘Cause that shit is gross. Maybe some nice sugar flowers. Or just chocolate works too.
|seriously, just stick some of those little plastic bride and groom people in there and let's call it good.|