What's Going On? (segment #1)

2 weeks without a post, without a peep or even a blurt. I suppose an explanation is in order and especially to the loyal Blob readers who, in vain, have coaxed, threatened and cajoled me into providing them with the free diversions to which they've become accustomed. (cheap, needy, bastards!!)

I was thinking of going with a vague hockey type excuse and claim a "lower body injury" but why lie when you can tell the truth? The real story is that I've been busy learning and playing music so difficult and time consuming that it cut into my wedding cake baking and on-line gaming time leaving little room for Blob related activities.

"Wedding cake baking?" you ask and rightly so since this is not something I normally do, especially for a wedding party that includes a leading mafioso, the premiere of Quebec, around 15 comely sopranos (and other voice types who all sang opera choruses), and a narcoleptic chihuahua puppy. At this point you must be wishing I stuck with the "lower body injury" angle but all details and photos are completely authentic, unembellished, and un-retouched. Listen up:

The bride, a voice coach, the husband, a personal trainer. I knew neither but was invited as a guest of a woman who was supposed to bake the cake and then asked me for help. I had a conception which changed when I was informed that the bride wanted a cake that was chocolate AND vanilla and pink!! I would make a 3 layer masterpiece, the middle layer being vanilla cake with vanilla buttercream, the outer 2, dense chocolate truffle cake, all covered in pink fondant; a substance as mercurial and difficult to handle as, well....as a soprano who's planning her own wedding.

It wasn't long before disaster struck and I was forced into doing probably the gayest thing I've ever done, and I say this with apologies to my gay friends and relatives (Uncle Sheldon, you're not fooling anybody!) A day before the wedding, in the AD stage (assembly and decoration) the fondant proved too much for me to handle. I went into a panic, became chair kickingly (see photos below) enraged and then despondant.

It wasn't a pretty sight and there was no time to start over. Premiere Jean Charest would be seated at my table, the mafia king not far away. The bride needed nothing less than a very special cake for her very special day and now there was no time to start over. How could I possibly extricate myself from this impossible situation and how gay of a thing did I actually have to do as part of a potential solution. Come back soon for the 2nd installment!!