Lowering The Bar: Mad Cupcake Disease

It’s 2015, and I am 34 years old. The new year finds me still in Richmond, Virginia. Not much has changed really. I don’t feel any older or wiser. I keep making the same mistakes that I have always made, and I have come to the realization that our mistakes are really what define us as people. I have already disclosed that I like the company of small squish faced dogs, women with questionable judgment, and people who can deal with my horrible eating habits, so I thought I would extrapolate a little on my recent actions and how they have affected me.

The thing I was most excited about so far this year was the fact that Carytown Cupcakes had made my absolute favorite cupcakes. Unlike the rest of my eating conditions, such as: not eating anything green unless it is a skittle; not eating anything that crunches unless it is an Oreo or a potato chip; and basically, not eating anything that could be deemed healthy in the slightest, my fascination with cupcakes can easily be contained within two of those three boundaries without me having any qualms. I believe that I would potentially eat a green cupcake, as long as it wasn’t vegetable flavored, and crunchy cupcakes sound amazing if made properly. And, we all know that there really isn’t such a thing as “healthy cupcake,” so I won’t even try to broach that subject.

This cupcake of my dreams is a vegan chocolate cupcake with an Oreo bottom, and a chocolate/mocha custard in the middle. It is the equivalent of having an orgasm in your mouth. When I discovered that they had these cupcakes, I immediately bought the last two they had in stock, and then found out that they would be making them again the next day. So, the following day, after running some errands, I made my pilgrimage back to the cup cakery to find that they only had ten left of these amazing cupcakes. I also found out that it was to be the last day they would be making this particular design of cupcakes for the foreseeable future, so I promptly bought all ten, and started devising ways to ration my stock of prize possessions.

Being the adult that I am, I came up with a plan to eat my cupcakes for dinner. After sharing a couple, I realized that they would last me at least a week if I stuck to a plan. And, if I didn’t eat anything else for dinner, it would also allow me to savor one of the few things on the planet that I actually enjoy eating, and therefore I decided that to be the best course of action. Days one through three went amazingly, but by about halfway through day four, I realized that my stomach wasn’t feeling all that great. I was perplexed: whoever would have thought that burritos for lunch and cupcakes for dinner would result in anything negative? At work on day four, I started to feel slightly dizzy and flu like. I was lucky that I already sit down to urinate, because every single time I contemplate peeing, I also have to consider that as much (if not more) liquid will be coming out the back end, too. I got home from work that night feeling gross, and being the slave to impulse that I am, I went straight for the cupcakes.

I missed the next two days from work being sick, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy cupcakes each day. At least when I was at home sick, I was accompanied by a lot of root beer, and more than a little bit of potato product that may or may not have been in the shape of suns, moons and stars (and, not to mention, the remainder of my precious cupcakes). If I am to be judged by the repetitious mistakes that I make, then I am happy to be a giant child.

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