The Unbearable Lightness of Penis Cake

Warning: This post contains sixteen utterances of or euphemisms for penis. If reading this at work, we suggest making the font a little smaller.

As any romantic comedy will tell you, weddings are filled with Rules. There are the big ones, which a wedding-wise girl can recite by heart: Don’t wear white to a wedding, always R.S.V.P before the deadline, and never violate Kate’s dibs on the cute groomsman. Even the pre-ceremony events have their own traditions. Each lingerie shower or engagement tea has an etiquette to follow. For bachelorette parties, there is but one rule: don’t be a party pooper.

Ostensibly, this is easy to follow. It’s one last hurrah for your almost-married friend. What’s the worst that could happen? Oh, my brave little toasters, just you wait. You are about to be exposed to more edible massage oils and That’s what she said! jokes than you thought possible. By the end of the night, the word “penis” will have lost all meaning, so often have you heard it. Unwanted knowledge of the groom’s left-leaning tendencies will haunt you for days. However, one horror stands above the rest. Like T-Rex among tiny, squashable raptors, The Baked Phallus looms large on the horizon of bachelorette parties.

That’s right. Someone will bring a cake shaped like a one-eyed trouser snake. Betty Cocker will have raided an adult novelty store for the pan (this being the one socially-acceptable time forΒ  a young woman to enter one, as long as she giggles nervously throughout the visit, so everyone knows she does not approve), debated the potential connotations of chocolate and vanilla cake mixes, and then painstakingly measured food coloring for that perfect curdled flesh color. At the party, this gateau de schlong will be left in a place of honor, for all to see. Nothing says Have a Happy Marriage! like baked genitalia.

Your initial cake reaction is pivotal, friends. Whether you are shocked or delighted will determine your bachelorette party role. Play this carefully. There are generally three party archetypes: the all-knowing siren, the begrudgingly amused bystander, and the horrified prude. Much like the first time you played truth-or-dare in middle school, try to avoid the prude option. You’ll be safer, if you play it cool. Just like in the good old days of seventh grade, this hen night can quickly devolve into a game of Shock Naive Nellie. I recommend grabbing a glass of champagne and acting like Black Forest Cock is an everyday treat at your abode.

Personally, I find the whole penis obsession ridiculous. If we’re not eating phallus cake, we’re wearing light-up tallywhackers around our necks. It’s like the twisted version of my childhood birthday parties. Only, instead of a Barbie lip gloss in the goodie bag, it’s a lollicock.

The psychology of this is befuddling, at best. Are we supposed to be preparing a supposedly virgin bride for her first glimpse of the manhood? A human sexuality textbook seems wiser. I don’t trust the anatomical accuracy of buttercream icing. Besides, most brides I know are wise in the ways of whoopee. What could they possibly gain from a giant, fondant-covered model of their man’s junk? It’s not exactly the most appetizing shape. A heart-shaped confection seems much more conducive to celebrating impending marriage and staving off the gag reflex.

Unfortunately, the ultimate rule of bachelorette parties still applies: don’t rain on the parade, no matter how penis-laden the floats are. If the bride wants to drink through a dinglehopper straw and stuff her face with sausage sandwiches, that is her right. I plan on banning any phallic pastries from my own bachelorette festivities, but to each her own.Β If Future Kate or Mae decides she must have a penis cake, I’ll even bake the damned thing myself. Just know this: it will be from scratch. If one has to eat cock cake, it should at least have homemade icing.

– Grace

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22 thoughts on “The Unbearable Lightness of Penis Cake

    • Perhaps I shouldn’t be so unfair to icing. I bet fondant could be awfully accurate. Buttercream, however, is rather like the coach-teaching-health of the dessert world.

      Also, I’m so happy to know this was equal-opportunity funny! I thought I might lose y’all with the bachelorette party talk. πŸ˜‰

  1. Ahaha, this was hilarious. I don’t know if this is going to sound a) creepy b) sad or c) desperately trying to make friends, but this blog has the best writing I’ve ever seen. And I’ve read far too many books to be considered normal. I always laugh/cringe/make-sour-lemon-faces/resist the urge to wet my pants.

  2. I have thrown several bachelorette parties. Never have I subjected the women who attended to phallus eating. I like to spend my preparation time planning awesome games and not trying to correctly color flesh frosting. But, to each their own. Also, the entire post I kept hearing in my head, “Let them eat cake!” Which now has such a new meaning to me. πŸ˜€

    • Jami, you are my kind of bachelorette party host. I would so much rather play fun games than eat slices of fleshy mancake! A much better use of time and party-planning skills, in my opinion. πŸ˜‰

  3. hilarious! I have, in fact, used the phallus-straws (though at least I didn’t supply them)… though not at a bachelorette. They make guys REALLY uncomfortable at parties. That might be why they’re supposed to be limited to all-girls type events.

    • Ha! Lexy, I actually really want to get a penis straw, after reading your comment. I can just imagine all sorts of awesomely akward situations, when it’s pulled out. I’ve never thought about how guy’s would react to the sight! I love it.

  4. A copy of this should be handed out to every bachelorette party attendee in the country. As a former prudish parade-rainer, I could’ve really used this info back when I first started going to phallus-laden parties. You would think that being in a sorority all through college would’ve made me a little more worldly.

    • These really are the things a girl needs to know, before she attends any bachelorette party, don’t you think? If only those same awesome organizations for women had handed out pamphlets in college! No lie, I am a former prudish parade-rainer, as well. It took me an embarassingly long time to realize it’s best to just act nonchalant, despite how much I really don’t want to eat that cake. Thanks for the great comment!

  5. I have sadly been the purveyor of a particularly henious Penis Cake – well actually, I took on the responsibility and then made my Male roommate actually handle the creation and he took on the task with pride. Our final product was a side view complete with Blue icing balls and shaved chocolate representing the pubes.

    It was actually hard to eat it was so disturbing to look at!

  6. Yeah, this whole post is great! I haven’t been to a bachelorette party in many years, as I am a sage and seasoned Spinster, myself. But as I read it, I realized, back then I was definately the “wha-OOOOooooooh!” girl in the room, sour face and all.

    However, part-way thru the read, I was hoping I’d be invited to a gig so I can pull out my artistic know-how, and whip up a truly grotesque cake. I mean, a HUGE one that covers a whole 6 foot table (5.3 feet of that are spooged icing spewing forth in curling waves of excitement) And doncha know, I had just recently made an apt. with a culinary school in Phila. to study Pastry Cheffing. heh heh heh I am totally whack with mad skills a-coming soon πŸ˜€

  7. This was amazing…I think the cock cake can be funny, but sometimes it’s a little over the top, and there should always be a disclaimer (“not true to size” perhaps? :)). Ladies do funny things at bachelorette parties…let’s just go to sex shops when we feel like it (and not just for a penis pan) and stop with the penises at parties. All in good fun, I suppose.

    By the way, you ladies are the best.

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