I Wanna Eat the Whole Cake

 I hate the phrase, “You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”. It’s so stupid.
I mean I get and respect the evidently sensible sentiment that the proverbial statement stipulates and all, but I feel like the rational regarding the actual obtaining of the cake in the first place can be broken down from its structural integrity with some pretty rudimentary logic (along with coinciding intuition bordering somewhere between instinctual cause&effect covariation frolicking along with an observably obscene, often noticed and noted notion reported to your ingrained rhetorical repertoire as “no shit”). Someone has had to have certainly ascertained this asinine assertion before, am I right?
Am I so insane to compose such a pointless prose? Quite.
Idk I feel like anyone who can entail some frail form of enlightened entitlement inductively injecting this interjection of counterintuitive reasoning (likely imparted, if not partially at the start, out of haste to console the ardent, aching heart of some rampant tantrum stricken rapscallion child at his own birthday party) onto another with a sense of righteousness has some seriously malicious, and probably not unbeknownst to the will of his whim, Tom Sawyer level reaping capabilities. Guess they don’t call him tom Sow-yer, now do they?
That being said, if you don’t share your cake at your birthday party you probably won’t have many that would show up…or any at all…missing out on potential birthday presents, on a fiscally responsible note. Also you’re probably gonna be pretty lonely then too, on a personally intimate one.
So bite off more then you can chew cause I doubt anyone actually appreciates the paradoxical, quixotically quintessential spongecake as much as they should. At least as predominantly as a pastry anyways. It usually just sits undisturbed, in the back of the room with us, like Rosa Parks parked in a Birmingham Bus. No. I’d argue it’s more so mainly just a meager meandering decorum, as an assortment of sordid portions glazed in pastel. Attributed to the remarkable physical and chemical properties which inherently, in its dormant celebratory spirit, it so coyly possesses that allows it to normally stay solid and stable under such standard room conditions.
So chase more of that morbidly distorted cheesecake! Take pride in your 22 carrot cakes! Or hell, you can even get yourself a fresh, flamboyant and passionately fashioned fruitcake for all I fucking care! Just get caked up and keep that cake stacking till it’s as big as a wedding cake baby!…make sure you get a prenup tho.

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