Cake and Punch

The other night I did something so incredibly stupid and funny, I just had to share it with you. Plus, (spoiler!) it allowed me to use such an awesome title. I had been craving chocolate cake for a few days, which is weird because I normally like yellow cake better and I don't often crave cake. I held off for as long as I could, but then I finally decided that I would probably die if I didn't get some cake, so I went to the store and got a mix, eggs, oil, and a bottle of wine, because what else goes with cake as well as a glass of wine? Don't suggest milk because I hate it, and like wine, while it does sometimes make me feel nauseous, I don't get the added bonus of drunkenness first.

I drove home and put the wine in the fridge to cool it down a little*, while I made the cake. Ooh, ooh! I totally lined the cake pan with parchment paper so the cake wouldn't stick or taste like wax! After I put the cake into the oven, I poured myself a glass of wine and settled down to an episode of Gilmore Girls that I had Netflixed.

Once the cake was finished baking, I pulled it out of the oven and let it cool, while I finished watching my show. Once the show was over and the cake was sufficiently cool, I decided to have another glass of wine before I frosted the cake. Unfortunately, I wasn't planning on having another glass so I jammed the cork super far back into the bottle. I tried to pull it out with one of those plastic-silicony flower things that people like me use to be able to open jars with, but still no dice. So I decided to re-corkscrew it open. I have had to do this on many occasions and it works well. However, the stupid cork would STILL not budge, so I had to re-corkscrew it again!(what would the correct terminology for this be? Does it not exist because you aren't supposed to re-corkscrew bottles? Is it just reopen? Because I don't think that really gives the proper image of what was going on.)

Finally, this time I not only managed to successfully pull the corkscrew out with all of my might, but I also managed to punch myself right between my eyes with the handle. Hard. So hard, in fact, I was afraid I might pass out, or had at the very least given myself a black eye. I immediately grabbed some ice to put on the bump on my nose and tried to come up with a plausible story for my possibly broken nose. Walking into a door didn't sound any more or less believable than getting punched in the face with a corkscrew handle while relatively sober (I mean seriously! I think I'd feel slightly better about it if it was like, the second bottle I was trying to open instead of a second glass, although I also think I'd have much bigger problems if I was trying to open a second bottle, but come on!), and it was so hilariously ridiculous, I decided to run with it.

Fortunately I only have a little red dot on my nose that hurts REALLY bad if I touch it, and a headache for the past two days, but I don't think any permanent damage was done. I mean, you won't be confusing me with Owen Wilson any time soon, as I had previously feared. Did you know that Owen is the OLDER brother between him and Luke? I think that's so weird!

Here is a picture of what's left of the cake, the wine (see how much is left in the bottle? Now multiply (or something, unfortunately math isn't really my strong suit) the empty part by two and that's how much was in it when I smashed my nose. Pathetic!), and the killer corkscrew.

*Interesting side note... it was a bottle of red wine, which I do know you are supposed to serve at room temperature, but that rule was made up in France where the room temperature, and just the temperature period, is a lot cooler than that of Phoenix in August.