Kiss My Bundt

I ate 4 cakes yesterday.

4 Bundt cakes to be exact.

See, I think that Shorty secretly wants me dead.

Here is my proof.

I wanted to celebrate my birthday by eating meat.

Shorty found some famous steak house that supposedly Abraham Lincoln went to.

Now, forget the fact that this place was founded in 1930 and as far as I know Abraham Lincoln was dead by then, I don’t think that a Polynesian restaurant in Glendale, CA was the type of place that Lincoln would have visited.

Actually, I am not sure that California as a state even existed when Lincoln was around, but whatever, it added to the lure of the place.

After being vegan for almost a month it was not a good idea to eat a steak.

Yes, it was amazing.

Yes, I loved having animal blood drip down my mouth and on my t-shirt.

Yes, I didn’t even want to eat the twice baked potato that came with it, but the one thing I wanted in addition to the meat was a piece of cake.

I looked at the menu and wanted to get what they called, “sinful chocolate cake,” but Shorty told me not to.

I looked at her like she was crazy.

Who was she to tell me not to get cake on my birthday and I said to her that I wanted cake.

That’s when she told me that I always ruin a surprise and that she had gone out and got me cake.

I felt bad for about a minute, but then my eyes sparkled as she started to ask me what kind of cake I liked.

I told her that I liked moist cake.

She didn’t know what I meant and I explained to her in great detail what kind of cake I like.

Then we get home and she goes into the kitchen to get me my cake.

Imagine my surprise when I see four bundt cakes sitting on a plate.

After I blew out the candles, Shorty explained what the 4 cakes were.

Vanilla.

Chocolate.

Carrot.

Cookies and Cream.

After I ate all four I went to sleep.

I woke up in a coma.

She is trying to kill me.

Kiss my Bundt

Kiss my Bundt

%d bloggers like this: