GIRL SCOUTS, SCHMERLSCOUTS

FUCK YOU, Girl Scout Cookies. Hiding behind all of that philanthropic bullshit. OoOOooo please help these cute, cherub-faced, sweet, tiny girls who are trying to become well-rounded women and responsible, contributing citizens of the world... by eating these VOMITOUS cookies. Filthy. Foul. And there are so many different kinds of you! Peanut butter and  milk chocolatey wafer things and sweet, buttery shortbreads and minty, crunchy dark chocolate crisp cookies....and that is only to name a FEW. BLECH! OH. And the worst part is you all have these fucking dumb ass names. Like SAMOAS. What the fuck is a SAMOA? And it doesn't even describe the cookie!!! Which is loaded with repulsive ingredients like sticky carmel and coconut and of course, the whole damn thing is drizzled in stupid chocolate. FOLLOWER. Like aren't there enough cookies with chocolate in them? And speaking of FOLLOWERS. Let's talk about TAGALONGS. Really, Girl Scouts of America? Who wants a fucking tagalong. A third wheel. A LEMMING. Not me!! Is that what you're trying to teach the children of today?! Oh ya. Just tagalong there, tagalong girl. No one actually invited you, tagalong. But, ya, sure, I mean, I  guess...... TAGALONG. How about LEADER cookies? HUH? Or Upward Mobility Cookies? Or Have Good Morals Cookies? If you're going to make us eat these vile pieces of fuckery ....maybe they should AT LEAST have a good fucking message attached. I'm done here. Im out.

Grilled cheese, I’ve had about enough of you….

And your cheesy bullshit. So what, your gooey middle is packaged between toasty goodness. I could care less, you’re dead to me. And on another note…I don’t know what kind of “look” you’re going for, but you might want to reconsider. You probably think you look so cool and laid back, but look at you! Spilling out all over yourself, you’re a fucking disaster. Disgusting. How do you even go out in public like that? I might have fallen for that disheveled charm when I was a teenager, but no more! Get your shit together, and then maybe we can talk.

Fuck you, Russ.

Be my Valentine? You want me to be your Valentine? Well you know what Sugarless Russell Stover Valentine's Chocolate? I'd rather snuggle a hedgehog before I be your valentine. Yeah, I said it. What is it exactly that gets you off, Russ? May I call you Russ? Well I damn well will. What makes your little soulless red cardboard heart tick? Is it the fact that you tricked me into thinking you were really delicious chocolate? Was it because you sat taunting me and my singledom in Walgreens a full five weeks before the fateful day? Well Russ, this time you have gone TOO FAR. How dare you not only flaunt my relationship status around town like a sad Facebook update but also dare to take away my sugar? What is this strawberry bubblegum chewy piece of crap? All I wanted to do was sit on my couch and eat little nuggets of joy. Instead, you steamrolled my self-esteem like a Zamboni. My personal life is already in disarray and I couldn't even get the box of soul-filling candy right. You are like that guy I hooked up with last weekend. You were cute. You were a good kisser. You liked Obama. But then you went and didn't call. That's who you are, Russ. You're the asshole that didn't call. So appealing on the outside. Full of empty promises on the inside. Well you know what, Russ? I'm through with you. I hope you got what you wanted out of this. Asshole.

Fucking Con-Artist

Sooo the last time I checked....MARTINIS were served in MARTINI glasses. WHAT in the fuck do you think you're doing? Dessert belongs on a plate. Maybe...maybe in a bowl. But not in a fucking martini glass. When I see a martini glass, I expect to feel a little less aware of my problems by the time I've consumed the contents of that martini glass. And HOW in the fuck am I supposed to do that when my martini glass is full of ice cream and drizzled chocolate or lemon meringue and cherries or creamy pudding with tiny little cookies on top. This is wrong. It's wrong and it's sick. And it confuses me when I am trying to order a fucking beverage.  Keep your sweet, sticky, thieving fingers away from my glassware, desserts. Go back to the dark corner of Hell from which you came.

Fuck you, office candy bowl

I don't know if you know this, office candy bowl, but you're a SADISTIC BUTT-FACE DOUCHE-BAG. You seriously have nothing better to do than camp out next to my undergrad-adviser's desk, laying in wait to taunt me??? What's your fucking deal? I mean, not that I care because, you're seriously gross. Mini versions of actual candy bars? Yuck. DOUBLE Yuck. Candy bars are such fugly cowards. "I'm really filled with caramel and nougat but I'm too insecure to show them to the world. I'll just hide behind this soft chocolate veil so you can't judge me." You guys would rather look like turds than preserve a SHRED of your own dignity. Fucking pussies. And as for your whole "bowl" gimmick; just so you know, placing yourself in a bowl does not make you REAL FOOD. You're still buck-a-pound, day-after-Halloween-special-clearance, TRASH that Ms. Mateen DIDN'T WANT TO EAT so she threw you in that bowl out of guilt. GUILT. Got that? NOBODY LIKES YOU, office candy bowl. You should just go home.

FUCK YOU, BAGUETTE. Your flaky, golden crust and soft, fluffy center that begs for buttery spread doesn't do a damn thing for me. In fact, I think it's really dumb.

Gold should be worn...not eaten. And FLAKY people suck. So clearly, you do too.

AND WHERE DO YOU GET OFF BEING SO LONG? 

Are you trying to overcompensate?? For your lack of moves on my taste buds??

Go back to France, Baguette, and let me be.

Ok, let me get this straight: You're cupcakes; And you're also puppies. YOU HAVE SOME FUCKING NERVE. You just HAD to find a way to combine two of my most favorite things in life. You just COULDN'T FUCKING HELP YOURSELVES, could you? And, ok, I get it, you guys are friends. You're just a group of cute-ass, different colored puppy-cakes on fucking LEASHES, hanging out on a plate, no big deal, like this is the Small-World-After-All ride at Disneyworld or some shit. Oh, don't look so surprised, beady-eyes. You don't fool me for a second. Might I ask, why the hell is the white puppy in the front? COINCIDENCE? I think not. Which leads me to my third(?) and final conclusion that puppy-cakes are as evil and racist as they are adorable and (most likely) delicious.

Ok and for anyone just joining us, this is the maiden voyage post of "Fuck You, Cupcake," and obvious rip-off (but isn't it the sincerest form of flattery?) of the infamous and brilliant "Fuck You, Penguin." Their goal is to tell cute animals what's what...ours is to tell all that amazing looking food out there, tempting us day in and day out, how much we DON'T at all want to eat it even a little bit.