Tag Archives: humor

A History of Cake


The first mention of cake appears in a Shakespearean sonnet in 1592.

Shall I compare thee to a summer cake?

Thou art more lovely and more decadent.

In 1755, the Earl of Earlingstone-Hamshire-Winthropp (nicknamed “The Earl of Earl,” for obvious reasons), on the eve of his 100th birthday, received a lovely layered dessert made of boozy pound cake, whipped cream, and sweet brandied plums. Baked by Mrs. Eleanor Peavey, longtime cook of the Earl and his family, it was cake‘s first public appearance in 150 years. The centenarian clapped his hands in surprise, knocking over a candelabra; within seconds, the brandied plums burst into flames over six feet tall, overtaking The Earl of Earl before engulfing the room completely. Everyone at the residence perished that night.

Two cake traditions from that tragic evening continue to this day:

1. Providing flame-retardant sweets for every special occasion.

2. Adding candles to birthday cake to raise awareness for the aristocracy.

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The original Erica

Election Day, 2016: How My Mind Works


Wait, it could just be a weather ruse to lull me into thinking it’s a positive sign when really, it’s going to be bad and then I’ll feel doubly betrayed by both America and the sun.

I don’t think the sun has the ability to create a ruse. The sun just does its thing.

If the weather goes south, that could *also* be a ruse – lulling me in the opposite direction and thinking The Cheeto will win. Poor Cheetos. I wonder if they will ever bounce back from this election.

Maybe I should wear a pantsuit today. NO. That’s weird. Also you don’t own a pantsuit.

I can’t believe our long-lost friend finally popped back up on Facebook. I wonder who she’s voting for. I wonder if we’ll see each other again. I’d put my money on no, if I had any money.

I can’t stop putting this Kickstarter hot sauce on Ruffles potato chips. It’s 9:30AM. Maybe I should add it to some eggs instead of this bullshit frat boy breakfast.

The house is a mess and the baby comes today. Maybe if I clean the house real good, “politics” will be nice to me.

How can I even make eggs with a kitchen this messy? It’s impossible.

Is a matching sweatsuit close enough to wearing a pantsuit for solidarity? Not that I have one of those, either.


I hope, if I have any friends or family that voted for Donald Trump, that they never, ever tell me. It would probably break my heart into a million angry pieces.

Normally I don’t like hot sauce but this shit is good.

I should make the fam go for a walk today. Put our faces in the sun. Put on pants that aren’t pajamas, if I can even find some.

Can’t believe how mean I was to [redacted] in my dream last night. I almost feel like I should send her an apology text, but then I’d have to explain what for.

Craving the New Luck Toy dumplings something fierce.

Must find a bar stool to sit on tonight, but close to home so if the polls take a shit, I can cry in my own bed with an extra-cheese pizza.

Keep it together.

Keep it together.

We’re out of potato chips.




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Hen Party Pooper


Something I learned about myself in the last few years: I’m terrible at bachelorette parties.

I’m too self-conscious, too uptight, and maybe too old (which, incidentally, is the working title of my future autobiography). As a reluctant team player, the girly wolf pack mentality kind of freaks me out, and the “traditional” aspect of bachelorette parties – strippers, tiaras, penis-shaped everything – really makes me cringe. Even when I was The Appropriate Age Range for a hen party (completely made-up by me, somewhere between 21 and 28), I was mortified for the bride as some guy named Randy Andy thrust a satin-clad dong at her face, over and over. Surely this is why Long Island Iced Teas were invented.

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Job Opening: Battle Guitarist


Former Employee of The Month

JOB TITLE: Battle Guitarist – CS-0303-11
AGENCY: Interior, Bureau of Citadel Affairs
SALARY RANGE: $38,896 to $42,965 Per Year
DUTY LOCATION: 1 vacancy in the following location: Desert Wasteland, Australia
SECURITY CLEARANCE: Public Trust – Background Check


The Bureau of Citadel Affairs is the lead agency in Australia for managing relationships with post-apocalyptic allies and enemies throughout the region. A challenging and dynamic place to work, it enhances community engagement and quality of life for a lucky chosen few, and carries out the responsibility to protect and improve the trust assets of the Citadel.


  • Yes


  • Represent the Citadel as lead guitarist for all official state trips and battles.
  • Coordinates team meetings, schedule, setlist, and logistics with traveling Battle Drum Corps.
  • Assist Regional Director on assigned matters as an authoritative representative of community outreach.
  • Motivates warriors and warlords in-transit through all fields of battle in diverse and challenging environments.


  • Advanced double-neck guitar skills with emphasis on shredding, dischord, and sludge metal riffs.
  • Advanced stunt work certification with experience in high-speed desert car chases and vehicular acrobatics.
  • Specialized hands-on experience with military-grade flamethrowers.
  • Weather resistant.


Official battle guitarist uniform: A red onesie and head-covering mask made from your dead mother’s face.

You will be evaluated on the basis of your level of competency in the following areas:

  • Ability to successfully narrate and convey the mood and pace of battle to all participants.
  • Ability to work, play, communicate, and sleep while attached to harness-bungee suspension system.
  • Ability to withstand 150 decibels for days and weeks at a time.
  • Stage presence, including but not limited to: make-up, costuming, attitude, energy, and audience participation.
  • War Boys Department evaluation.
  • Guitar modifications.
  • Time management.

The Bureau of Citadel Affairs provides reasonable accommodations to applicants with disabilities. If you need a reasonable accommodation for any part of the application and hiring process, please notify the Citadel civilian personnel unit.

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When God Sends You A Greek Opportunity


Remember the Christian mom everyone hated because she wrote that well-meaning, completely tone-deaf, racist-sounding (or just plain racist) guide to accepting a *gasp* black son-in-law? aka When God Sends Your White Daughter A Black Husband aka When God Answers Your Prayers But Ignores Important Deets aka When God Fucks Up & Sends Your Fam Some Real Life Shit To Pray About? Yeah, that’s the one.

Everyone had an opinion on it, even Yours Truly. I came around pretty quick to see – or at least fervently hope – that the author was coming from a good place, even if that place was 1954. The Washington Post wrote about it, NY Daily News, Patheos, HuffPo, every blog that’s ever uttered the word ‘Christ’ or used Papyrus font on their website, and one of my favorite bespectacled cats masquerading as a human, The Everywhereist (who described me as “subject of [a] future article called When God Sends You a Girlfriend Who Will Fuck Shit Up When Shit Needs Fucking Up,” worthy praise that I’ve since added to my bio and résumé).

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