We've been partying like animals over here. My boyfriend's birthday has come and gone. Just like I like it, there was lots of absurd hilarity.
One of my favorite absurdly hilarious things was the cake I made. I am a really good cook.
When my birthday came around, my boyfriend made me a delicious and beautiful cake. It was a raspberry cake filling with a light pistachio icing. He even made the cake topper from clay and topped that with a butterfly. You see:
Now you all know my age. It is what it is.
For his birthday, my boyfriend asked for a peanut butter cake. Well, alright. I made a peanut butter cake (with home-made peanut butter) with a peanut chocolate frosting (with home-made confectioner's sugar!). But, I didn't stop there. The cake topper I chose was a stately and beautiful chicken. It's what tied it all together.
My chicken poop cake:
It was really delicious.
(Shhh! Don't tell anyone. The cake was even more blasphemous because I used a Paula Deen recipe. From now on, I know she has a really fabulous chicken poop cake recipe.)