Truly, Madly, Deeply

Cupcakes. I hate them more than anything ever created. I hate them more than pollution, traffic jams, Rosie O’ Donnell, even more than the New York Yankees. They are my arch nemeses. Now you may be wondering, “Why Mae? How can you not love cupcakes? They’re gooey, cute and sweet confectionary goodness.” Well, that’s why I hate them.

First of all, I hate gooey stuff. It makes my hands sticky; I have severe OCD, and I instantly have a panic attack about anything liquidy, sticky and/or lotiony being on my hands. I wash my hands 30 - 40 times a day. You try eating a cupcake with a fork and knife and not getting “the look.” I get the look often enough, I don’t need asscakes contributing to my demise. Also, I hate cute shit. Everyone knows this. I’m the first person to say “that is one ugly baby” and when I see a video of a kitten on a Roomba, I immediately have to run out and kidney punch an elderly lady crossing the street, because I’m filled with so much rage. Oh, by the way, “I can has cheezburger” is bar none the stupidest site ever created and the internet should have been shut down immediately as soon as the name was registered. For that, I blame Al Gore for not monitoring the internets well enough. Way to drop the ball again, Al.

Secondly, I hate artificial sweets. Artificial sweets were created by an asshole (the US government) a long time ago to control the masses. In fact, it was that same asshole that created Crack Cocaine, because Cocaine was not eradicating the poor class of people fast enough, just like they invented AIDS to eradicate the African Americans and gays, but they failed.

Nice try, assholes. You know confections are crack to some women.

I’m looking at you, Peg Bundy, and your bonbons. Actually, you know who probably invented cupcakes? Steve Jobs or France. Think about it, people are just as insane over cupcakes as they are for iPhones, iPods, iEverything and France brings nothing but irrelevance to the table.

France is an asshole.

Thirdly, cupcakes are show-off pranksters. And nobody likes a show-off or a prankster. Nobody. Cupcakes can’t just be normal, like a muffin. They have to have mounds of frosting piled eleventy billion inches high covered in sprinkles that go flying EVERYWHERE, when you bite into them. Sprinkles are to cupcakes, what glitter is to a stripper. And then, you bite into the eleventy billion inches of frosting and cupcake and what happens? The cupcake gives you the proverbial middle finger and loses its hat. The frosting is sitting on your lap or on the ground and the cupcake is bald and laughing at you, while your face is covered in frosting, making you look like a slob. Hey, asshole you got frosting on your nose. There is no respectable way to eat a cupcake, kind of like eating a taco. Besides, who has a mouth that can fit eleventy billion inches of cupcake and frosting? A whore that’s who. Who likes whores, besides dudes? So not only are cupcakes asshole, prankster, show-offs, but they fraternize with whores. They may as well have a big, scarlet letter tattooed on the bottom of their foil.

Which brings me to my next point; Aluminum foil? Seriously? Why not just line yourself with shards of glass. In fact, why don’t I just stab myself in the mouth a few times?

This brings me back to muffins. Muffins can kick a cupcake’s ass. They don’t need foil, they don’t need sprinkles. All they need is the awesomeness of blueberries. Muffins are the Tiny Lister of snacks. I wouldn’t mess with Tiny Lister, unless, of course, I was Ice Cube. Cupcakes are the Richard Simmons of snacks. Richard wears sparkly clothes, so I’m sure he eats cupcakes and wears glitter too.

Fourth, cupcakes are gold diggers. Eight dollars for a single cupcake? Are you kidding me? I can buy a box of Jiffy Muffin Mix for 49 cents and make eleventy billion muffins. Once again, it’s because cupcakes fraternize with whores. Cupcakes learned the way of whoredom from whores. I don’t care that they come in a cute, little box that has a bow tied around it. I only like these cute, little boxes that come with bows around them. Besides, my dogs will eat those stupid boxes before you can say “straight to your ass!” That’s where cupcakes go anyway.

Lastly, cupcakes hang out with other assholes. Who wants to be associated with assholes? Nobody that’s who. Case in point: Paris Hilton.

I rest my case.

[Editor's Note: In celebration of Mae Dae, I have decided to repost the brilliant piece that spawned a legend; this, from February 10, 2009.  -stopthemadness]

Tags: cupcakes, hate, Mae

This entry was posted on Thursday, July 16th, 2009 at 2:21 PM and is filed under A Word from Mae, I Hate Things. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.