Is This a Wreck? You Decide.

Today we Americans and our friends around the world should pause and remember those lost in the attacks on 9/11/01. We each do this in our own way, and some people commemorate the day a little differently. Some people, for example, make a cake:


I've received several different pictures of this cake - each taken from a different angle - so it's obviously getting a lot of attention from passers-by. Some believe this is just the baker's way of using his unique skills to make a tribute. Others think it's disrespectful: halfway through serving those towers the cake is going to look pretty darn macabre. Personally, I'm on the fence. I see the skill involved, and I think the baker's motives are pure, but in execution I can see why so many are offended.

Your thoughts?



Thanks to Anna B., Patrick C., Dubi K., and Marc Felion, who took the original photo.

Don't Do It, Billy!

Disaster was narrowly avoided at the Smith household today, when 3-year-old Billy took the instructions on his birthday cake a little too literally.

"You could tell he was aiming for the giant '3' candle," said a local relative on the scene, "but fortunately his mom caught him just in time!"


Gee whiz, Dora T., that was a close one.

UPDATE: To the many readers helpfully pointing out that "your" is a misspelling: uh, that's kind of the point, guys. See, he was going to "wee" on his 3, 'cuz that's what the cake said to do - get it? [shaking head]

The Cake Head Diet Aid: Killing Appetites Since 2007

We've all been there: six weeks of rigorous dieting, all ruined by the sugar-paste encrusted morsels at cousin Jill's wedding. But what is today's bride to do? Is it possible to have the wedding cake of your dreams while still showing consideration to your dieting guests?

Yes, it is!

Introducing the Cake Head Diet Aid!



That's right, folks, just place the professionally decorated Cake Head Diet Aid alongside your wedding cake. It's that easy! In addition to being a delicious red velvet groom's cake, the Cake Head Diet Aid will effectively dissuade all but your most ravenous and/or non-squeamish of guests from indulging in the gut-busting baked goods. Guaranteed!

Here's what our happy customers are saying about the Cake Head Diet Aid:

"The children ran screaming - no sugar buzzed hellions at the reception! Thank you, Cake Head Diet Aid!"

"Never have I wanted to eat cake less. Just the thought of your product has kept me up nights, and I've lost over 15 pounds!"

"When my husband said the wrong name at the altar, I was ready to kill him. Slicing into the Cake Head Diet Aid, however, helped me vent enough of that murderous rage to make it to the annulment. And the jam filling - oh, that was the best part!"

As a bonus, your Cake Head Diet Aid is completely customizable! From football helmets to sunglasses, iPod earbuds to nose rings, you can make your Cake Head Diet Aid the spitting image of your husband-to-be while incorporating his favorite hobbies!

So girls, be kind to your guests waistlines while giving your guy his just desserts: order the Cake Head Diet Aid today!


Michelle D., I bet these work great at birthdays, too.


UPDATE: Alright, all you PhotoShop nay-sayers: there IS such a thing as edible image printing, mkay? I also verified that this came off a professional bakery's portfolio site, so chill wit' da hatin' , yo.

The Painted Cake Cometh

This cake is absolutely stunning - kind of like a sharp blow to the head. I know that I was forced to stare in stunned silence for a moment when I first saw it: the thought of eating that much Pepto-colored paint put me in cerebral lock down.

Still, if ever a herd of curly teal amoebas were to migrate across a shockingly pink desert, I imagine it would look something like this. (They even sent the little ones on ahead, see?) And I'm sure it can't be easy to get something edible to look so glossily non-edible, so props where they're due and all that.

But the plastic grad caps - why? No, seriously, for the love of all things cakey, why?

And I'm not going to even mention the spacing, except to say that someone should be staying after class again.


Hey, while your retinas are still smarting, check this action out:

Now, I don't know if it's because orange is my favorite color, or because those giant pillow-y swirls look so softly smooshable, but all I can think about when I look at this is how much I'd like to attack this bad boy face-first, T-Rex style. RawrMmmmmmmm.

Yep, nothing brings out the carnivore in me quite like sugary baked goods. (Oh, wait...)

I Think I've Just Been Punk'd

If you guys thought the first wedding disaster cake was bad, hold on to your pantaloons.

Alright, let's set the scene: here's what the bride asked for, only in all white with minor green accents.




Now, I would tell you to take a moment to prepare yourselves for the horror you're about to witness, but frankly no amount of time would be adequate. So just go ahead and scroll down now.



I'll give you a moment.

[whistling]

Back in your seat now? Good. Because believe it or not, there's more. Aw yeah.

1) The top tier still had the Springform pan under it.

2) The cake "base" is a metal sign.

3) I swear I am not making this up.

Ok, so the bottom levels are covered with a fondant lumpier than the Bearded Lady's thighs, and the top tier is the wrong shape and isn't even iced completely. I see all that, and yet you know what the funniest bit to me is? Those green lines up the sides, which I can only assume are attempts at "ribbons": not only are they as unlike ribbons as icing can possibly get, but they don't even line up! Somehow that last bit of lunacy just sends me over the edge.

(This post is also the first in a new category: Missed Marks. Because nothing is quite so wrecktastic as when you see what it was supposed to look like.)

Now like you, I'm sure, I was highly skeptical about this being a "professional" cake. However, the e-mail came from the bride herself, and she seemed outraged enough to be telling the truth. (Yes, a replacement cake was procured at the eleventh hour.) I can only assume the icing and generic tips in the photo were purchased to try and "fix" the cake after it was picked up. In fact, Vicky C., if you're reading this, you might want to chime in on the Comments section now, just to back me up here.

[crickets chirping]

Vicky? Er, Vicky, c'mon now, this isn't funny.

[crickets still chirping]

Seriously, Vicky: tell the people I'm telling the truth. Vicky? Er...Vicky?


Vicky?!?

UPDATE: YES!! Vicky the bride has spoken!!! Check the Comments section for her assurances of this cake's validity. (You'll have to scroll waaaay down; you guys are certainly letting your voices be heard on this one, aren't you?)

Fan Wrecks

We've officially come full circle, folks: people are now making Wrecks on purpose, either in honor of the site or just to recreate their favorite specimens. Check it out:


This wrecktastic design was the brainchild of readers Alissa, Elisa, Phillip, Gail & Tara. Hey guys, shouldn't the baby be riding one of those carrots?


Msyendor was more musically inspired: here's a song to the tune of "Working on the Railroad":

"I've been looking at some Cake Wrecks,
And laugh until I cry.
I've been looking at some Cake Wrecks,
So glad one isn't mine!

Visions of sweet disasters
See 'Toe Jams' 8/11/08.
Missed spellings gaily plastered
Ferule to, uh, pree, she aaaate!

Baby butts upturned,
'Wachungas' -what a word,
Effigies invite you: Slash away!

Psychedelic dreams,
Done in tasty butter cream,
I'm putting in an order today!"

Readers Aimee C., Amy G., Jessica S., & Amanda K. threw a Cake Wreck Decorating Party:

A "patchwork quilt" of "wreckish elements". (If you say so, guys...)


And a nicely inappropriate use of quotation marks. "Excellent!"



"Run, Wall-E, Run!"

Here's an official Wreck, since it was professionally made for an Army guy. Submitter Lena had the decorator replace the original inscription with the most famous of Wreck mistakes, and then swapped Eve out for a toy tank. (Which is especially funny when you realize the blue is supposed to be the night sky - it's a Hover Tank!) Believe it or not, though, the space poos are part of the original design - proving that it wasn't that far off from wreckiness to begin with.


And lastly, the quintessential Cake Wrecks homage:


Not only is the inscription referencing at least five separate Wrecks, it's also rocking some extremely unbalanced sprinkles distribution and crazy clashing red dots. Score!

Teresa B. and gang, you rock. Totally.

A Purrfect Pair

After yesterday's doggone post, I figured this was only appropriate.

(And yes, the pics are from two different sources.)


Thanks to Kristin F., & Michelle B.!

Promises, Promises

Well, at least the cake-giver is precise. Can't have any raised expectations, now, can we?

"It's exactly one time, alright? Not 1.5, not even 1.001 - just ONE. Like to the 3rd decimal: one point zero zero zero. Got it? Now pass me the Advil, and don't go getting all handsy."

Wreckporter Jenifer tells me her hubby found this gem pre-decorated, so any backstory was completely in the mind of the decorator. (There's a scary thought.) You do have to wonder why a puppy dog was chosen to be the bearer of such lackluster news, though. Well, unless that "bow" is actually a grievous head wound; I suppose a dead dog would be appropriately depressing. Hm.

Hey! Speaking of dead dogs:


This poor little pooch looks utterly pooped. Or deceased. One of the two, anyway. And those eyes are waaay too realistic for me: who wants their cake slice to be giving them puppy dog eyes - er, I mean, eye?

Geri C., we'll just save that piece for you, eh?


UPDATE: Many of you have alerted me to the fact that in some countries a decimal point is used instead of a comma, which would make the first cake say "I love 1,000 Time!" However, a) that still makes no sense b) it would also make it grammatically incorrect, and c) it was purchased in the good ol' US of A. So either way, it's still a Wreck.

On a side note, I initially thought of posting a link to Mariah Carey's song "I'll Be Lovin' U Long Time", since that's the first thing that popped into my head. After some consideration, though, I decided I liked you all too much to inflict that kind of torture.