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Where’s Carl?

The Walking Dead is by far my all time favorite show (for the moment). Except for the third season, which totally sucked, and we should pretend most of it didn’t happen. However, Michonne was introduced during the 3rd season so I can’t complain too much. No one backs Michonne into a corner…

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As a TWD fanatic I am obliged to let it consume my time, thoughts, and my belly. Hundreds of dollars of TWD comics- Check– VIP Norman Redus tickets- Check- 24 hour non-stop marathons- Check– TWD cookies…. THE WALKING DEAD COOKIES?! What a stroke of brilliance! Sometimes I’m divinely inspired.

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It would take Shane rolling over in his grave to stop me from making these cookies. Walkers might be surrounding my house, and even though they don’t eat sweet delicacies (Ok, I’m totally a sweet delicacy, thank you very much),  I would rather be eaten alive than not have cookies in my bunker.

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Unfortunately I haven’t finished my Daryl and Carl cookies. But here’s what I’ve got so far.

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The photo’s are kinda crude but what the hell, the world’s ending anyway and this history books will remember these edibles at high art.

 

Not Funny Internet

Ok, I’m a mid 20 something year old bipedal mammal that might be human (I’m not convinced though all the evidence points in that general direction). I’d like to think I’m conscious but that’s a circular argument waiting to happen if I’ve ever heard of one. Right now I feel like the internet is out to get me. Either my computer is malfunctioning or I am using the software improperly. Probably both. Either way I’m not entirely satisfied my computer can’t read my lips and is going to cut me off if I keep mumbling profanities under my breath. I’m sure the DSM 9000 has an opinion on what condition my condition is in.

How do you work this thing anyway? Please be patient while I figure this out. By the way here are the photos the computer didn’t want you to see.

 

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I am hoping to teach some classes at a local cake supply store here in town. There was some sort of big event going on outside the store this weekend so the store-owner said we should have a bakesale to promote the classes and increase registration. I do my best to stay calm. {If you were watching this interaction happen at a distance you would be able to see me transform like Bruce Banner into The Hulk. Or maybe more like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.}HalloweenCookie4

Don’t ever say “bake sale” around me unless you want to rouse the berserker blood lust side of me that I usually reserve for role-playing games. It is quite possible that I perceive bake sales the way ruthless gentry must have viewed duels back in the days when it was still polite to carry a sword.  Not only will you be grateful when I serve you your loved-one’s remains on a platter, you might not even mind how much I roasted them.

I’m genuinely sorry. I really am. I guess I’m “that” power hungry bake sale megalomaniac. Every bake sale’s got at least one. I’ll make sure to announce myself before my army of cookies crash down your door. I don’t always make cookies, but when I do I make them violently.

I wanted to commit seppuku (A ritualistic Japanese suicide whereicat cookien the person skillfully disembowels themselves) when only 8 of my 60 cookies sold. I actually knew this would happen but it’s what the store owner wanted, I had the time, and the cookies are delicious!The “event” was a car show.  I guess there was some 200 cars with their hoods up and motor cycles looking all neat in their rows! I am going to make a vast generalization/assumption mixed into one and say ultra cute cookies probably would have been better received in a crowed not filled with Road Warriors.

All that aside more people have signed up for my classes!

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