Thursday, June 2, 2011

Wendy vs. The Cake, Part 2

Since I had been craving cake all week, I thought it would be a good idea to bake a cake.  I wasn't actually going to eat the cake, ok?  I just thought it would be therapeutic to go through the motions of baking a cake.  Then, I would throw it out and feel stronger than ever.

Except I forgot about my chocolate frosting problem.  It's my kryptonite. 

The cake called out my name.  Literally.

I was powerless before the chocolate frosting.  I listened, spellbound, to the cake:

Look, I can handle being called a fat bitch, and I can even handle being told I will die alone.  But there is absolutely no way I would ever be caught dead in a pair of Old Navy jeans.

This is when I lost control and blacked out.

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