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New York City’s Lower East Side is regarded as the heart of debauchery and abomination. It is within these few city blocks that one can easily find themselves in a dicey fix. It is the hours after 9pm that the shops close their store fronts; children are tucked away safely into their beds; and respectable citizens shut off their lights for the night. It is the hours after 9pm that seedy establishments welcome the corrupt and the crooked.

It might be shocking to observe these obscene acts against society. Cab drives, daughters, husbands, and youngsters; all respectable citizens indulging in La Dolce Nite Life. It is offensive to watch them consume multiple cakes, one right after another. The have been witnessed operating vehicles while intoxicated by these sugary substances. One youth was even reported smearing the sticky narcotics all over his face.

All though this behavior may appear far removed from your safe suburban neighborhoods, please be advised that this immoral behavior is spreading through out America. Keep a watchful eye on your loved ones, and together we can keep our streets confetti free.

cake-boys1Someone give that cabbie a cupcake.

cab-cake1Even grown men love cupcakes!

streetcake22Devoured!

smokecake1Smoke Cake

chocolate21Mmmm Chocolate Cake!

better-than-a-tip1Best tip all night!

cake-finger1Number one cupcake connoisseur.

cup-cake1She loves cupcakes too!

who-wants-cake1Classic Cake in the Face (part I)

she-loves-cake-to1Classic Cake in the face (part II)

leftovers1True Story, “So I woke up this morning, with cake all over my face….and your card in my pocket.”

cakeart1Fin


One Comment

  1. RE: Photopaparazza entitled: “Fin”

    To flirt with the end like it were a gum wrapper. Glistening like dew on 1st Ave. Pleats along the edges. Silver. Help me, the Hammer Time Cavarichis cost an arm and a leg on the way to the cheesy jalapeno Xmas lights Vindaloo!

    My heroes abandon me to a place that once had a brand name …. The End! and yet the fin is more like a sail fish … one hung on my father’s “study” – a faux template of what he had envisioned for himself: his brood seated on lazy boys listening to his “advice” like he was some crowned eperor.

    The Fin. The Fin. The end … like some ruffled skirt that just said NO too many times in a row. By God! She would have been a good lay, but, well … My father wasn’t a good lay either, so my mother said.

    She said, “Sea shell.” I said, “The Ocean.” We argued about the sound, and after a night on the town … plastered …

    THE FIN


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