Birthday Cakes from Hell

I’m not sure how many of you are aware of this, but I’ll be turning 21 34 56 65 98 32 in a few weeks. As such, I thought it only appropriate to have an awesome birthday cake. I mean, it’s tradition, right?

I couldn’t find any awesome pre-made RDK cakes — go figure — so I went with the next shittiest thing. A sad, borderline gross rendition of a “cakegirl” sporting some sort of OU bikini. Let’s just hopes there’s minimum frosting in certain areas … if you know what I mean.

Anyway, to make all attendees of my birthday gala feel comfortable, I thought it would be a nice gesture to provide custom cakes for all friends, family and loved ones.

Many people. Many tastes. That’s what I’ve discovered. And also that there are some crazy-ass people out there that get a kick out of effed up cakes. Whatever turns ya on.

So, we’ve got the Sooner fans covered. But what about the Texas Longhorn fan in your life? The best we could do — and really, that’s not saying a whole lot — was this odd uterus/poop design. Enticing, I know. Seriously, if the Dirt Monkey can design the cake, you fuckin’ suck at your job. Unless this was the C-plus project from a 15-year-old at the Helen Keller School of Pastry & Cake Design, you have failed at life.

Perhaps you’ve got a friend that’s really excited about today’s Presidential Inauguration. Awesome. Eagles flying. Trumpets blaring. Flags waving. Presidents driving in pimped out Caddies. (Seriously, did you see “The Beast?”) Really, it’s the American dream. In honor of all things red, white and blue, we’ll have this sexy number on hand. Why they replaced Barack with a light-skinned Orlando Jones, we’ll never know.

Then there’s Gravy Train. Part legend. Part attorney. 100 percent raw eating machine. Really, how do you find the perfect cake for someone with such pedigree? I thought a pizza-shaped cake might be the answer, but that seemed much too obvious. And easy to pull off. Then, I found it. And it’s without a doubt the perfect cake for him.

At least, until I found this. Which I think suits him much better.

What’d I’d end up going with? This little number. Giraffes, fuck yeah!

Anyway, head on over to Cake Wrecks to discover a world that, really, I had no idea even existed. Really, there’s a cake for everyone … and that’s what disturbs me. Also a shoutout to sweet RDKer Lindsay for sending this in. You sounded hot in your e-mail. Call me … if you’re between the ages of 18 and 18.