By Great White Snark | July 2, 2008
Here on GWS, I regularly lavish goodwill and praise upon honest-to-goodness talented cake artisans who bless our Yahweh-forsaken little planet with the simple joys elicited by first-rate geeky cakes.
But it’s time once again to turn our attention to the ham-handed, artistically-impaired, wannabe cake makers who bring another sort of pleasure to you and me, the arbiters of these sorts of pastry proceedings: the petty joy of scorn and derision.
Mmmmmmm… delicious pettiness.
I wonder if R2 screamed when they took his legs. Or was he too busy doing his impression of a cheap piñata…?
Eli, Mommy knows that you wanted a cake for your birthday, but Mommy could only find a container of vanilla frosting, a box of pancake mix, and half a tube of food coloring in the cupboard this morning, ok?
Now run along and play, Eli. Mommy drank too much happy juice last night and needs a nap.
Yeah, if that’s R2-D2, then by the same criteria (“Duhhhr, it’s basically got all the right parts, duhhhrrr…”), I’m Twiki from Buck Rogers.
Perhaps, cake maker person, you should select a simpler subject for your next effort. In the meantime, I wouldn’t take any tests that depend on an aptitude for photographic recall. That wouldn’t go well for you.
This is either a unfortunate stab at modern impressionism or the efforts of a spindly-armed stoner with A.D.D. Either way… this is one poor, misshapen bastard.
Listen, it’s one thing to use M&Ms in lieu of frosting to detail R2’s exterior (P.S. what the fug?), but it’s another to be completely arbitrary about the design. At this point, why not make him a fedora out of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and call it a day?
Talkback: Chime in, people! Which one’s your (least) favorite?