A compendium of craft masquerading as art, art masquerading as craft, and craft extending its middle finger.

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

The Boy With the Most Cake

I'm no more traumatized by my childhood than the rest of the world...but I bear a few scars that I like to remind my mother about when I need to twist the knife a little bit...like all of the times when I had to get a shot at the doctors and they gave me a balloon...but my mother made me give the balloon to my sister, saying "You already got something (the shot, natch), so your sister gets something too. Then there was the time when she was baking cookies during the summer, and put the OVEN RACK on the RUG IN THE DOORWAY to cool. Of course I came running through (shoeless, of course) and grilled my feet on the oven rack. There were actually little Burger King flame-broiled lines burned into my feet. Ahem. Maybe my mother could have erased all of this bitterness if she had been remotely as cool as the person who made this how-to article on building a volcano cake THAT ACTUALLY SMOKES AND ERUPTS! Some bundt cake pans, Karo syrup, and a little dry ice are all you need to ensure absolute love and devotion from your child for all eternity.



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