File this post under reason number 10,493 why I’m not allowed to have an office job and communicate with real live co-workers everyday.
So I’m working this freelance gig at a very trendy, stylish Manhattan publication. For Halloween, one of the editors brought in a box of cupcakes from some fancy-shmancy 12-dollar-a-cupcake bakery. I have made plenty of fun of the upper class cupcake trend, but I have to admit, these suckers were pretty great. Buttery vanilla cake with creamy pistachio frosting. They weren’t McAdams-loves-Gosling good, but they sure beat the hell out of that jar of stale tootsie rolls.
Once I finished licking the frosting off and devouring the cupcake, I was left sitting here staring at that delicious empty cupcake wrapper on my desk. I know, I know, you’re saying “hold up – delicious wrapper?!? What the hell?”
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