Ask A Ho: My Cupcakes Are Dry

I don’t bake. Sorry. I make a mean plate of nachos, and a wicked guacamole (odd that my two go-to plates are football-watchin’ dishes that can be made by a 5-year-old double amputee) but mama can’t bake worth shit.

And this is no surprise to anyone who has had more than a simple conversation with me.

My cookies are always burnt. Cakes are dryer than shit in a desert. And my muffins taste like cardboard. Note: none of these are euphemisms. These are true statements reflecting my bad baking skilz.

While I’m a cupcake connoisseur, my skills are all on the receiving end (that’s what she said?).  I can tell you what cupcakery in Dallas to go to, but I can’t make buttercream frosting worth the sweat in AD’s jock strap.

Which makes the fact that my mother gave me
a “Cupcake Recipe a Day” calendar for Christmas an absolute kick in the pants.

Sure, she’s trying to get her little daughter Betty Crocker-ized. She’s already appalled that I consider beer, chips and salsa dinner. And now that her little darling is heading balls first into adulthood (despite my best efforts to remain a college-aged hoodlum forever), these immature shenanigans need come to an end.

And this middle finger of a calendar is her way of doing it.

Some would consider a decent bottle of wine or some delightful tequila an excellent housewarming gift. My mother? Bakeware. I will say that the woman did buy me a wine opener. Apparently wine is acceptable. Good to know. Wine makes for mother-approved alcoholism.

Next thing, I’m sure she’ll be signing me up for cooking classes, knitting seminars and Bunco clubs.

But that’s fine. I’ll be perma-drunk on wine.

C U Next Thursday,

SugarTits

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