puckinyourmom

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I spent my entire day looking for one of those stripper cakes, you know? Turns out, you have to put the girl in after you bake it.

It's a birthday party.

That's weird.

Not for birthdays. Do I look Italian?

Then you have to make a fuckton of hamburgers. You can just order a big cake and everyone's set.

[...okay, that's kind of awesome, BUT.]

You'd need a giant grill.

Where am I even supposed to get one?

I want a stripper cake, though.

Because! Fuck! There's more important shit to do than worry about food.

Exactly.