Easter Indiscretions
Today's cakes were sent in by a mister Seymour B.
(Ok, no they weren't, but that joke makes me snort.)
You know a Wreck is bad when calling it a "butt" is erring on the side of generosity:
No butts here, (except this one ->) but I think someone took "Playboy Bunny" a little too literally:
Right now you're probably wondering if this is a bird or a bunny. In a few more seconds, though, you're going to notice how, er, ballsy the Wreckerator was with the design. Next you'll note the unfortunate placement of all that hair. Then the use of the color blue. And finally, you'll have an uncontrollable urge to e-mail this link to all of your friends and family - except Uncle Fred. (Fred's such a killjoy.)
Then, when I snap my fingers, you'll want to go to the nearest tattoo parlor and get "Cake Wrecks Rocks!" inscribed somewhere really obvious on your body. Ready? Annnnd...[snapping fingers]
Hey Becca, Kelly F., Anna C., & Alison R., ever consider permanent body art? Yes? Excellent.
- Related Wreckage: An Easterly Wind is Blowing