Cake Woman’s Second Birthday

Cake Woman came over last Thursday for a mini-birthday celebration with me and the quasi-fam.

I drew her a robot and used it to wrap her present of… mini bundt cake pans. No, this was not a self-serving gift, she asked for them and barely had to explain why they were an acceptable present.

Lisa made a scarf. I won’t show her wrapping job because it makes my robot look child-like and lame. ROBOT!

I told Cake Woman that her hair looked especially cute and she was all “oh, this? I didn’t even brush it after getting out of the shower!”


Lately I have been wanting a kid of my own, and not to eat for dinner. I think that my biological clock is starting its countdown. Fuck you, clock.

D-Cups my ASS. Yes, this was the night that Cake Woman farted in my bed all night and I slept on the floor. I should have made her sleep on the couch or the futon in the basement, or I should have slept on the couch (I mostly refuse to sleep in basements for a multitude of reasons). Shoulda woulda coulda. In any case, cute woman plus my bed equals brain meltdown, pretty much always. Never mind, it’s not worth explaining here. Come to the party on Saturday and I’ll explain the whole thing.

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