Cake

Updated: Nov 28, 2018

I can be a considerate, polite and attentive person. Make good chat with your gran; bond with the person who no one can tell is shy or a dick; find common ground with a coat stand.


However, when food makes appearance my social skills can be compared to Sauron when he has the one ring and just smashes people out the way. I’m a greedy son of a bishh.


When I studied in America there was a weekend called ‘Spring Parties’ where all of Frat Row opened up in the evenings for partieeeees. I went to each Frat House, kicked their door down, marched over to the spread, ate it all, drunk their drinks, danced and then move on to the next house, without even introducing myself. I was like a Viking and I had a lot of fun, even if I did get so drunk the non-Frat guy I was seeing had to drive me 500 metres home.


I was at a party last year and the folk handing out canapes just started bringing them straight to me.


A fear of mine, which probably should be discussed with a trained professional rather than the internet, is that if I don’t eat all the food it will be gone. I don’t live with food thieves or mice, but I will literally eat a packet of Jaffa Cakes in one sitting thinking “if I don’t eat them someone else will”. I don’t know who, and even if they did I could easily buy more Jaffa Cakes, which don’t even taste as nice as they once did.

I once baked a cake for my colleagues but ate a quarter of it before I’d even unveiled it.


There was this zombie show I was watching where the survivors started resorting to cannibalism and I just thought, nah I’d rather be a zombie. Is it really worth surviving the apocalypse if civilisation can’t get their shit together to make a loaf of bread?


I’ve tried dieting three times in my life, I don’t believe in them and think the worst conversation anyone can make is how much weight they want to loose and how. I think that anything which limits your enjoyment of life or makes you believe you’ve not got a great human body is a bad thing. However, after going for a run after one festive period and having to hold my bum down because it was flailing around like loose breasts, I did try Slim Fast. After just three hours and one milkshake I felt faint and quit.


My biggest comeuppance of my greedy greedy ways was when I went to a party and spied a chocolate torte. I took a nice big slice and loaded a nice big spoonful into my mouth. Joy soon transitioned to shock as what I was eating did not taste like chocolate torte, but of dirt.

I looked up to see a couple of other bewildered guests, holding the cake.


“that’s an interesting flavour… what is it?” one said, in the most diplomatic fashion.

“It’s Kirsty’s bake” said someone else, knowledgeable enough not to have taken a slice. “it’s raw, vegan, sugar-free chocolate cake”

“Oh, cool” we replied, our words laced with lies.




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