Post the Thirty-First

Hey everybody. Today on Life of a Pastry, I talk about some seriously fucked up shit.

This is Fucked Up

You know how a lot of TV ads
show a family with an 8-year-old son?
Well, a bunch of boys had to have auditioned
to play the son in that commercial.

Seeing as most TV actors are evaluated, in part,
on their physical attractiveness,
for each of those commercials,
there had to have been someone sifting through a pile
of photographs of 8-year-old boys,
judging how hot they are.

--Pastry

Post the Thirtieth

Hey everyone. My laptop is sincerely fucked, so I now have to update Life of a Pastry from the computers at the library until it gets fixed. This unfortunately means no Comics/Image Day (hence why there was no post yesterday), but it shall be replaced with beautiful poetry. And today on Life of a Pastry, I honor this whole incident in haiku form.

Two Haiku for Steve Jobs

Fuck your stupid face.
I'm as fucked as your whore mom.
"I'm a Mac." Fuck off.

Fuck fuck, fuck fuck fuck.
Fuck fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck, fuck. Fuck.

--Pastry

P.S.: Where else but on Life of a Pastry can you get a haiku composed entirely of the word "fuck?" (Probably plenty of places, who knows.)

Post the Twenty-Ninth

Today on Life of a Pastry, I prove that some logicians are assholes.

A Proof that Some Logicians Are Assholes

PREMISE 1:
My friend Dan is a logician.

PREMISE 2:
When I asked Dan
what time the sun would rise tomorrow,
he said, "Dawn."
Ipso facto, Dan is an asshole.

Based on PREMISES 1 and 2,
we can conclude that
∃x(x is a logician, x is an asshole).

--Pastry

P.S.: But I'll be damned if he isn't right every time.

Post the Twenty-Eighth

I've decided I want this site to be more philosophical in nature. (Bullshit.) So today on Life of a Pastry, I prove that you've been doing philosophy all this time, and you haven't even known it!

Rude Philosophy

How can I know that anything exists outside of my own mind?
When I'm having sex, how do I know I'm not just masturbating?

If there is no free will, am I still responsible for my actions?
How drunk do I have to be before I can fuck an uggo and it doesn't count?

Is there such a thing as evil thoughts?
It's cool if I fantasize about your mom, right?

How can a loving, all-powerful God create a world with evil in it?
Oh my God, why haven't you gone away?

Do we punish criminals because they deserve it, or because it benefits society?
Should I bang your girlfriend because you're an asshole, or because she'd love it?

--Pastry

Post the Twenty-Seventh

Hey everybody. Today on Life of a Pastry: a comic about yarmulkes.



--Pastry

Post the Twenty-Sixth

Well, another Thursday, another Haiku Day. Today on Life of a Pastry, I pretty much just throw in the towel. But there's a twist ending!

A Lazy Man's Haiku

one two three four five
six seven eight nine ten e-
-leven twelve NINETEEN

--Pastry

P.S.: Whoa.

Post the Twenty-Fifth

I'm sorry today's post is so late (I'm not). But today is Wednesday, or as I like to refer to it, Comic/Image Day! (Oh, good old C/ID...) Anyway, today on Life of a Pastry, I explain why I'm grateful for color film.


--Pastry

Post the Twenty-Fourth

Let's avoid the pleasantries and just cut to the chase: today on Life of a Pastry, I discuss living vicariously through others.

Living Vicariously

As I stepped inside my house
and walked into the family room,
I noticed that my Mom was reading People magazine.

"How could you live with yourself," I said,
"knowing that all that interests you
are the achievements and failures of others?
Have you really done so little with your life
that you have to live vicariously
through a bunch of total strangers
who could not care less about your well-being?"

I sat down and turned the TV to ESPN,
just in time to watch the Ravens game.
I wonder how my fantasy team's doing, I thought,
praying that Ray Rice could rack up some yards against the Steelers,

even though I had heard he had a minor left ankle injury.

--Pastry