(no subject)

Some of you might already be aware of the existence of the phrase "Honi soit qui mal y pense" (Shame on him who thinks evil of it). It's... well, more information on the motto of the Order of the Garter can be had at Wikipedia:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Order_of_the_Garter

But that's not what I'm here to talk about, exactly.

FUck it. I'll tell this story some other time, when I'm not annoyed and stressed out. IT'll be funnier then.

For right now, I'll just say this: I cannot fucking wait until the day that I have use of an assistant in my professional life.

oh dear

We who are about to attempt our very first cake (vegan, two-layer, chocolate, oh dear) salute you.

See you on the other side, kiddies.

holie shitt: cake update

I made a cake, y'all. Sure, so a few things went horribly wrong:

-dragged the hangy-down oven filament through the half-baked bottom layer
-overcooked it, now it's kinda dry and stuff
-accidentally broke the top layer in half
-thought I had raspberry jam to stick top and bottom laters together: actually current jelly
-top and bottom layers failed to align quite; overhanging ledge of cake broke off: unsightly! (but delicious)
-fucked up the powder sugar stencil design on top

But mostly it went pretty much right.

Can someone please tell me how the hell to get the top layer onto the sticky, iced/jellied bottom one without 1) breaking the top layer and 2) misaligning them? Especially 1).

Cake sidebar

While I was trying to figure out how to get cake layer 2 on top of cake layer 1, the doorbell rang.

I opened the door, purple hair and chocolate-smeared face, arms, and shirt, with "Nth Degree" by Morningwood ("M-O! M-O-R! M-O-R-N-I-N-G! W-O-O-D! Aaaand HARDER!") blasting out behind me on my iPod/stereo.

A group of nicely-dressed forty-something women stood at the door with a petition. "Hello," they said, "are your parents home?"

I stood there, looking at them. I just couldn't figure out what to say.

Finally, one of them said, very tentatively, "Are, are *you* the shareholder?"

"I am the shareholder," I said.

Behind me, the stereo was briefly quiet as "Nth Degree" ended... and then iPod shuffle proved itself the awesomest shuffle ever, and "Draco Malfoy, what's your problem?" by Harry and the Potters came on.

I chewed some chocolate cake batter off my knuckle and tried not to laugh.