As I type this, I’m bopping my head to Ke$ha’s album. I think I’ve found my new ‘pretend-I’m-in-the-OC-on-Summer-Vacay’ album! :) Call it what you like, I think thrashy dirty housey pop is the BEST!
There’s a little party happening this evening. Not mine, my sister’s. A twenty-eighth. Phew, that’s… a big number. But like they say, it’s just a number. More importantly, it’s a birthday which means cake! (and for some other people, alcohol) She specifically requested for stickydate pudding with butterscotch sauce. And while I have no problem with that, stickydate isn’t the most attractive looking cake and honestly, I really don’t want to have to put up with questions 5 years down the road… “vic! why’s my cake a brown square?”
So to save everyone the trouble of having to recall what happens this evening (plus, with a hangover bound to cloud our memory), I decided to just prepare something pretty for the cake cutting, cam-whore worthy cupcakes.
And then my dad came rolling around, hungry…
Bye bye cupcake!