So if my middle school anatomy class serves me correctly, those candles are coming out of the cake’s butthole.
It would have cost half as much to just get one cake in the shape of a horse penis.
A cake that size is really a two-girl job, though.
Someone needs to loosen the C-ring, the tip’s gone blue.
“It’s…uh, the silo and the chicken coops at the farm where the Horsie lives, Sweetie! Just blow out your candles, okay?”
“Dammit, Granny, quit cake-blocking me!”
The decision to mix Sophie’s sixth birthday party with her aunt’s bachelorette party did not end well…
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