Penis Cakes

I’m Bill Kurtis. For centuries, men and women have searched for innovative ways to stuff their mouths with enormous dicks. Whether single or looking, straight or gay, happily married or fading quietly into the background of an interminable bachelorette party, never forget that Valentine’s Day looms somewhere in your immediate future. This year, instead of disposable diamonds, sappy love poems or a forgettable second honeymoon, take a cue from the Rotten Library and lovingly craft for your significant other something they can really choke down good and proper.

"Erotic" cakes have an uncertain history, since a cake can only be defined abstractly: an amalgam of doughy, tactile ingredients smooshed together and solidified to some degree — withoutof-the-century pattycakes will ever qualify as "erotic" is a source of endless rivalry among today’s leading anthropologists. One point of scholarly agreement is that based on cave paintings and crude etchings, boobs and boners sure looked weird back then. necessarily being placed against fire or inside a wood burning stove. In ancient times, cakes were rolled or hand-pressed into patties which more closely resembled bread, optionally sweetened with raisins, nuts, or honey. Whether or not turn-

Even the English word "cake" is an unfortunate generational deritvative of the Norse word kaka, making a scholarly review of penis cakes all the more childish. The ancient Greeks called their cakes plakous, meaning flat — but the word later evolved to evoke images of the placenta, introducing concepts which could not be any less erotic and therefore beyond the scope of this tutorial. Soap cakes and urinal cakes certainly fit the Oxford English dictionary’s limited description. They’re typically flat, and they have been glimpsed in or around the company of penises — although their level of eroticism remains steadfastly relative to personal preference.

The earliest cakely prototypes — erotic or otherwise — first popped up in 17th century Europe, after technological advancements in ovens and tin tray molds caught up to the availability of flour and refined sugar. The erotic titty cakes and big-balled popovers we’ve come to know and love emerged over time from flattened cookies and shortbreads.

Eventually, sweeter icings evolved from simple fruit garnishes and glazes: sticky, boiled compositions of sugar and egg whites. Several generations of erotic chefs would live and die before refined white flour and baking powder replaced yeast, making cakes ten times more delicious and paving the way for more edible pastries truly worth knob-gobbling.

"You Design It, We’ll Bake It" is the company motto of the world-famous Kopps Bakery, where all the cakes are hand-carved and never made from a mold. Kopps has been in business since 1961, and now boasts over 350 stores around the globe. Their press release claims they can create "any design you can imagine, from a couple making love to a hand-carved male organ or a female torso with edible panties and bra". The names of individual pastries in their bachelorette catalogue reads like a laundry list of rejected Hustler magazine copy: Dick Laying on Her Breasts, Ride ‘Em Cowgirl on a Big Dick, Male Organ in Butt, Long Thin Johnson in Big Black Ass (made to order) — and the enigmatic Busted-Up Dick Cake That Had Cum for the Last Time. Take at look at the artful, precision handiwork Kopps can deliver in just under an hour:

Christ on the cross, maybe they do need a mold. Somebody get these folks a muffin tin. Their online order form is similarly cluttered: just millimeters away from the link to order a Big Daddy Dick Cum Cake, one can accidentally click the Sesame Street Elmo cake. Watch those butterfingers, mom.

And watch those copyrights: a triple-tiered vanilla angel food cake fashioned after your ex-boyfriend’s cock sock will be easier to market and sell than anything you’ve constructed with a Mickey Mouse mold or Spongecake Squarepan. Respected baking supply companies like Sugarcraft of Hamilton, Ohio specialize in the art of food decoration. They go out of their way to distance themselves from clients who sell unauthorized cakes made from molds of copyrighted characters like Winnie the Pooh, Barney, Dora the Explorer and others. In dessert factories, the mantra is still "don’t mess with the mouse". Copyright police who show up to harass your small-scale bakery are happy to set you up with a $10,000 fine.

Because of zoning regulations, chef Paul Condra’s Erotic Bakery in Seattle, Washington is the only full-time penis cake manufacturer in the Pacific Northwest. Working with a two-man crew, Conda serves close to 150 customers each day. "We’re very streamlined and efficient. The gummy boobs and gummy penises are very popular," Condra told the University of Washington Daily. Since 1986, Condra’s penis cakes have remained the Erotic Bakery’s best-selling items — so popular, in fact, that the Erotic Bakery has branched out into a line of paper goods: plates and napkins covered with penises, penis-shaped straws and dry pasta fashioned after big bent boners.

Other hazards you might encounter as a baker of erotic cakes are nuisances constructed by cranky, uptight citizenry. In 2005, a Belgian woman sued the owner of a private pastry boutique who dared to peddle erotic marzipan figures for Valentine’s Day. The woman claimed the cakes depicted sexual positions, and argued that they shouldn’t be publicly displayed in the baker’s shop window. The chef, identified by the Het Laatste news service only as Baker Van Buggenhout (say it out loud if you wish) insisted that it was all in fun — and that the figures didn’t even show sexual organs.

"People laugh when they see them," the baker stated calmly, neither bugged out nor on the verge of bugging out. "They buy them to give to their wives or girlfriends." The elderly complainant who lived near the bakery shop window insisted that by putting the erotic morsels on display, the baker was effectively exposing children to pornography.

Meanwhile, have you seen what passes for window displays in Amsterdam? Hint: big floppy half-naked prostitutesGay Bed Cake and the infamous Marzipan Men To Lick Cake. This treat features two cuddly Ken doll look-a-likes, determined dongs pointing north, cavorting in the yin-yang position. In addition to misshapen lumps of frosting, Kopps’ Erotic Bakery created the world’s largest chocolate cream pie for the Rosie O’Donnell show: over six feet in diameter and 800 pounds. Then in 1998, they created the world’s largest Pop Tart, showcased in Madison Square Garden — 25 feet by 35 feet, weight over 1500 pounds. underneath red light bulbs, none of which are made of fresh marzipan. And as for you footloose and fancy-free gay dads, Kopps Bakery more or less has you covered with treats like the

If your modeling skills are less than stellar — or the idea of squeezing dough into crude shapes which only vaguely resemble testicles, penis cake pans might be the way to go. Suitable for shaping cookies, brownies, or Jell-O, the majority of consumer peckerware and booby molding cups are dishwasher safe and non-tarnishing. Naturally, they’re available in a variety of "big boy" shapes, sizes and circumcisions — and quite perfect for raucous bachelorette parties or nudging that long-awaited sexual harassment suit up into second gear. For those even less talented in the cooking department, curiously-shaped cake toppers are an elegant afterthought. These are miniature, edible accoutrements, typically made of marzipan or a gelatinous gummy bear substance, widely available in novelty shops. Cake toppers can be squiggled and bent to represent numerical shapes (Congrats On Your 40th) or fashioned from fine beeswax into proper candles, affectionately referred to as dicks with wicks.

The inscriptions which traditionally accompany personalized erotic cakes — penis and otherwise — range from lukewarm and uninspired to dull-as-an-office-party. According to Masturbakers, a custom cake and pastry manufacturer in New York, there are eight particularly popular pieces of copy which never go out of style. In no particular order, consider communicating your appreciation with clever quippery like Tits Your Birthday, Breast Wishes, Make A Wish And Blow, This Butt’s For You, To Have And To Hold, The Breast Is Yet To Cum, and of course the old chestnuts A Hard Man Is Good To Find and Have Your Cake And Eat It Too.

Masturbakers’ cakes are reasonably priced: an extra large John Holmes cake will run you about $100. A large Pussy cake, meanwhile, goes for $65. The Tommy Lee, with optional tuxedo, will feed anywhere from ten to twelve children for a modest $45. All the way across the country — for $1,800 — costume and prop supplier Tim Vittetoe Originals in Washington state can manufacture a pop-out stripper cake four feet in diameter, perfect for stage shows or special events, and capable of supporting overweight strippers weighing up to and including three hundred pounds! Gross.

When Adam Roberts of Amateur Gourmet chose to immortalize floppy, disgusting boobs in dessert form, he took a cue from the Janet Jackson Super Bowl incident. Roberts found the perfect recipe for cappuccino cupcakes with cocoa-tinted white chocolate and sour cream frosting. The hard part was making the boobs just the right shade of brown, to match Ms. Jackson’s skin tone. After several experiments, he ended up sifting together powdered sugar with "a cautious amount" of cocoa. A single Hershey’s Kiss served as the nipple, piping white icing in a spider web lattice to simulate the nipple jewelry. "The likeness was uncanny," Roberts reported. So delighted was Adam with his erotic accomplishment that he now sells T-shirts celebrating his Jackson cupcakes.

And let’s never forget the dutiful service record of Patrick Stewart (a.k.a. Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Starship Enterprise) who served as a guest host on Saturday Night Live in February of 1993. One of the characters he chose to portray was a baker of erotic cakes, fixated on one subject in particular. Let’s ripple-dissolve to the fading sound of angels strumming on flashback harps and remember that classic sketch together.

Young Man: Yeah, my friend’s having a bachelor party, and I thought it might be kind of fun if I got him an erotic cake.

Picard: May I remind you that you’re going to have to eat this cake? be happy and your friends will be happy.

Today of course, dirty pictures from your computer — even in GIF or JPEG format — can easily be transferred photo realistically to a cake right in your own home, without the hassle of nosy third-party erotic vendors or copyright enforcement police. Feel free to do it yourself: the CopyKakeminimum of "head clogging," a common printing problem which sounds conspicuously like the inspiration for an erotic cake in and of itself. company in Torrence, California sells edible inks offering outstanding color reproduction with a

Intentional or otherwise, CopyKake’s groundbreaking line of computerized cake decorating products have helped bring erotic pastries into the twenty-first century. Sadly, the majority of customers who purchase edible inks have yet to adequately exploit the technology for the purposes of erotica.

Printers compatible with the Canon brand of bubble jets can be loaded with edible ink cartridges — cyan, magenta, yellow and black. The unused inks have a shelf life of six months, if properly refrigerated. Thermal reversibility allows for an optimum ratio of colored inks to bond with the icing. Pornography can be printed with these edible inks onto frosting sheets: light, edible papers made of corn starch and sugar. The sheets, freshly inked, are peeled from their backings and laid atop a refrigerated cake flat-frosted with butter cream or non-dairy topping. In fifteen minutes, your hand-made erotic cake will be more than ready to sproing on a loved one — just in time for Valentine’s Day.

Bongs

Shhh! Jesus Christ dude, they’re called water pipes and they’re used for smoking tobacco or other legal herbal blends. Can’t you read the sign? If the clerk hears us making any references to bongs, drugs, marijuana, or unlawful substances — we’ll both get thrown out! Just keep your mouth shut and follow my lead.

Water pipe shops are commonly referred to as head shops by the tie-dye hippie types over forty who still lurk among us in sleepy towns like Portland, Oregon and Davenport, California. The term "head shop" communicates the idea of a store selling things which are "good for one’s head" — the term being a 1960s generational corruption of the word "pothead". Outside of a head shop, water pipes are indeed called bongs, so nicknamed after the Thai word baung: a snapped-off section of hollow bamboo which doubles as a you-know-what.

Just gaze upwards over yonder counter top and look at all the funny bongs. So many styles and varieties! Why would you ever need one with multiple chambers? Hey, that one looks like the Starship Enterprise!Which one is right for you?everything else. What’s important is that you understand what a bong is specifically designed for: it cools the smoke before it hits your lungs, enabling you to efficiently consume larger buffers of your product while minimizing the peer group humiliation which comes from coughing loudly, choking, and being a complete loser. They’re not all glass, of course. Some are plastic. Others are wooden, or painted ceramic with a light glaze of enamel. There are two distinct types of bong designs: those crafted after Grateful Dead hippie shit, invoking imagery of skulls, the pot leaf, or dancing bears — and

The critics agree: smoking [legal tobacco products and herbal blends] out of a blass bong provides a smoother, richer smoking experience. Bongs constructed from ceramic or plastic run the risk of scratching, burning, melting ever so slightly, or emitting fumes which can lead to asthma or respiratory-related illnesses.

Unless a bong was clearly assembled from uniform, prefabricated parts like Pyrex beakers or rubber cork stoppers, chances are it was lovingly crafted by hand. Today’s most sought-after manufacturers are professional artisans or students of chemistry, physics, and material engineering. A bong starts its life as a tiny droplet of molten glass — colored or clear — pulled from a crucible furnace which approaches 2800 degrees Fahrenheit. The key ingredients in bong glass are red-hot silica sand, lime (calcium hydroxide), sodium bicarbonate, and recyclable shards of other glass. A single droplet has the viscosity of honey, and exists in a slow-flowing state known to students of computational fluid dynamics as supercooled.

The bong maker (psst: they prefer to be called glass blowers) extracts and gathers this droplet onto a hollow rod, where it can be shaped, extruded, sculpted and beveled with a propane torch. With gentle clockwise and counterclockwise rotations, the rod is spun back and forth, occasionally angled with deliberate tilts up and down so the "blob" assumes the rough shape of a cylinder. This technique is the same for glass pipes as it is for bongs — and different metal instruments resembling those found in a blacksmith’s shop can be used to add decoration or enhance detail while the glass is further trained.

Hollow rods also double as a blowpipes: air is forced through the tube (by the artisan’s lungs or a set of accordion billows) so the molten glass can expand in size and shape like a balloon. Watching a bong evolve from a glowing, amber tadpole is a magical process. Look, there’s the water chamber! There’s the stem! I see where the carb is gonna be! He’s sprinkling scraps of plastic in the glass so when the final design melts together it’ll all be infused with multicolored rivers and swirls! Dude, I totally remember Shrinky Dinks.

If the bong starts cooling more quickly than it can be sculpted, the artisan stashes what he’s got right in the glory hole, a side compartment of the blasting window located just above the furnace, traditionally kept around 2000 degrees Fahrenheit. There, the glass loosens up into the viscosity of rubber, suitable for additional shaping. I’ll say it again: long, hard tubes of glass get shoved in the glory hole and they’re not pulled out until they’re soft and floppy.

The yins and yangs of bong making are simple and straightforward. Air is forcefully blown into a bong during its construction; air is forcefully sucked out of a bong throughout its life span. An empty bong needs to be filled, a filled bong needs to be emptied. Supercooled bong glass has no solidifying temperature: it continues to undergo a gradual change of shape and size over the course of many thousands of years. This means that whether you’re super stoned or only a tiny bit stoned, your favorite glass bong really is melting in slow motion as it sits there on your desk next to your dusty keyboard and Pepperidge Farm Mint Milanos. Bong appetit!

In September of 2001, terrorists converted New York’s Trade Center. Unfortunately, nobody got stoned except Attorney General John Ashcroft, who promptly spearheaded America’s very first anti-bong division, Operation Pipe Dreams,green lighted the notion that bong peddlers should be demonized as much as individuals who dare traffic in porno movies. Both groups are now subject to the same sudden raids, surprise searches, and summary seizures. Bada bing, bada bong. towers into the world’s largest bongs. Acres of smoke and debris billowed out the stacks for miles, higher and higher into the atmosphere. as part of Homeland Security’s efforts to investigate and track the commerce of suspected terrorism. You might say he

"Quite simply, the illegal drug paraphernalia industry has invaded the homes of families across the country without their knowledge," Ashcroft said at a press conference. "This illegal, billion-dollar industry will no longer be ignored by law enforcement."

Paraphernalia. What a crazy, stoned-up Dr. Seuss word! More than just bongs are under the microscope: Operation Pipe Dreams of course takes aim against pipes as well — not to mention screens, bowls, rolling papers, nitrous oxide canisters, whippets, measurement scales and balances, blenders, pill crushers, empty plastic baggies, razor blades, rubber bands, dilutents, solvents and adulterants like baking soda. Even clothespin roach clipspot holder are par for the course, so named because was already taken. All objects observed sitting directly adjacent to your bong can be considered "paraphernalia," so maybe your cat should sleep somewhere else.

One bong, two bong, three bong, floor. As governmental databases and marketing firms continue aggregating their combined knowledge of American citizenry and their purchasing histories, life will grow increasingly difficult for the consumers of bongs. It’s no longer hard to envision modern scenarios where individual applicants are denied health insurance for their families until they can satisfactorily explain away that peculiar 1998 debit card purchase of $120.00 made at Stoners Pot Palace in Seattle, Washington. Buying bongs over the Internet offers less anonymity than you might expect, which quite frankly is flagrant false advertising.

In 2003, comedy legend Tommy Chong (formerly of Cheech & Chong) was sentenced to nine months in prison for selling Middle Eastern-inspired glass bongs on the Internet. There was a modest array to choose from — none too over the top — with models like Babe, Big Bamboo, Topanga, and yes, even one called the Cheech.

The sting operation involved exactly the level creativity one might expect from the federal government: law enforcement officers placed orders for bongs from two of Chong’s businesses, Chong Glass and Nice Dreams Enterprises. They paid for the bongs, then raided Chong’s home once the merchandise was delivered. If the bongs had been fashioned to resemble animated characters from Pixar’s Finding Nemo instead of Egyptian or Arab designs, Chong might have remained outside the radar of personnel working at the highest levels of the Bush administration.

Later, Tommy would talk to Playboy magazine: "I heard a bang on the door at 5:30 a.m. When I opened it, DEA agents in flak jackets rushed in with their weapons drawn. They went from room to room yelling clear, clear, clear!"

To streamline Chong’s incarceration, prosecutors spoke less about his bong company — and more about his long history of portraying characters who glamorized drug use in the movies. No genuinely remarkable efforts were made to distinguish Chong from his satirical movie roles or comedy writing efforts; he was presented as someone who regularly trivialized efforts to curtail drug proliferation. Chong’s greatest crime was manufacturing decades’ worth of pot-related humor in which cops were seen to be bumbling or inept.

When it became clear that prosecutors were actually serious about Chong’s bongs, the 64-year-old comedian pled guilty to violating federal paraphernalia laws in an effort to protect his son, whose own water pipe business was next on the authorities’ chopping block. Perhaps John Ashcroft and his flak jacket squad might be interested in kicking down the doors of the Smithsonian Institute, which has a permanent bong exhibit. Admission is free.

Prior to the bust, Tommy Chong never had anything resembling a criminal record — just six comedy records which each went gold, and seven feature films. Of the fifty-five individuals swept up in the Pipe Dream bust, he was the only one jailed and the only individual ordered to pay fines of $20,000. Chong was sentenced on September 11, 2003 — and placed in a minimum-security prison in Northern California. Lacking even a single prior arrest was something he found slightly embarrassing among his prison pals. When asked what he was in for, Chong would clear his throat and mumble bongs.

"My time in jail wasn’t bad," Chong says in the 2006 documentary a/k/a Tommy Chong. "For the most part, I was with my fans. They even had to come up with some kind of rule where guards weren’t allowed to talk to me or ask for my autograph. It was like a rest home. When you get as old as I am, you don’t need to get stoned to be slow and stupid."

Welps, that’s the much ado about bongs and bong-related whatnot. Hopefully me and my friend here have proved that we’re one hundred percent over the age of eighteen and therefore legally able to purchase a water pipe. And so, kind sir, we’ll take that twelve-chamber, inverted pyrex water hookah, one Bubbles Powerpuff Pipe, and these d’ope-smoking Homer bongs. Here’s a credit card with the name of someone who appears to be a woman, but who is actually my mom because we both have the same name. Also I’m gonna need some metal screens, a pack of rolling papers, and this bag of peanut M&M’s. And could you please point us in the general direction of where we might be able to score a little p-o-t.

San Francisco — Kevin Reed launched his medical marijuana business two years ago, armed with big dreams and an Excel spreadsheet

Happy customers at his Green Cross cannabis club were greeted by "bud tenders" and glass jars brimming with high-quality weed at red-tag prices. They hailed the slender, gentle Southerner as a ganja good Samaritan. Though Reed set out to run it like a Walgreens, his tiny storefront shop ended up buzzing with jazzy joie de vivre. Turnover was Starbucks-style: On a good day, $30,000 in business would walk through the black, steel-gated front door.

It has been 10 years since California approved Proposition 215 — the Compassionate Use Act — becoming the first state to define marijuana as a medicine. The 389-word act aimed to ensure seriously ill Californians the right to use marijuana. But it said nothing about how they might get the drug — and left ample regulatory ambiguity.

Today, about 200,000 Californians have a doctor’s permission to use cannabis, which they can obtain through more than 250 dispensaries, delivery services and patient collectives — 120 of them in Los Angeles County alone. Medical marijuana, activists say, has become a $1-billion business.

He wasn’t getting rich, Reed insists — just medicated.