Dessert of the Year: Paris Hilton’s Birthday Cake

Happy Birthday Paris Hilton. You don't look a day over 40.

Happy Birthday Paris Hilton. You don't look a day over 40.

A sincere Happy 56th birthday to Paris Hilton, the Manolosphere’s favorite celebutard. We saw the pictures from your party (and we wondered, for a moment, if when someone told you to “blow” the candles, awkward hijinks ensued) and it looks like a great time was had by all.

Especially the guy who crashed your party and stole your birthday cake.

I woke up this morning with a $2000 birthday cake in my living room.

It’s big.

It’s red.

It says “Paris”.

And its fucking delicious.

24 hours ago I got a call from my well-connected buddy Kevin. “Dude, I’m crashing Paris Hilton’s birthday tonight. Pretty sure I can get you in,” he says. “Pretty sure you can’t,” I say. “Pretty sure I will,” he says.

90 minutes later we’re strolling down a red carpet like we belong there…

This is as delightful a tale of dessert-based Schadenfreude as the interwebs possess! Yes, just like Kim Kardashian’s $1million birthday cake, this relatively low-rent stunner was just going to be used for decoration and then thrown out. Naturally, in an economic climate as dire as ours, this offended our young adventurer, and he took the only course of action which an ethical partycrasher could, liberating the tasty treat in the name of The People.

and then posting the whole thing to Facebook, god love him.

Even in my sub-functional state, I realize this is going to be a delicate mission. There are still at least 100 people in the building, 20% of whom are employed to be looking for idiots like me.

Parading a confection the size of a small firetruck through the main hall is going to turn a head or two…

I take my cue and make a bullet for cake city.

In one fluid motion, I sidestep a confused waiter, seize the prize, and about face to the door.

I pass the security chief again on the way out.

I nod purposefully… he nods in return.

40 seconds later I’m in the front seat of a Nissan Maxima with 70 lbs. of awesome in my lap.

Success.

As the sun rises, I crash hard. In the morning, I’ll awake to an interesting surprise in the den.

It’s red. It’s delicious. And I don’t know WTF I’m going to do with it.

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