The Beautiful Kind

Individually served frosted cakes. In wrappers you can chew on like a disgusting pig.

God I love cupcakes.

A friend of mine makes vegan cupcakes - Elvis peanut butter, Oreo, S’mores, espresso - each garnished with peanuts, Oreos, graham crackers, coffee beans and fabulously frilly icing… GODDAMN.

Wouldn’t it be sexy to be in bed and feed each other cupcakes? Lick frosting off each other’s fingers, maybe smear it on each other and eat it off, a cupcake smashed on each tit, the thought of doing laundry to rid the bed of crumbs like bed lice the furthest thought from your mind? SIGH.

If someone forced me at gunpoint to get married, I would get a cupcake tree in lieu of a wedding cake. I fantasize of birthday parties (no, you don’t have to be a kid) with enough glorious cupcakes so that each guest would get two and get to take one home for later, to either share with a friend or eat in the kitchen at 2am. I would even embrace Hostess cupcakes, as they are so chocolatey and have that (almost) irresistable squiggle of white icing, except they contain beef fat and chemicals galore. Gross.