No cupcakes without alcohol.

I'm fucking tired.

I'm freaking out.

My cupcakes suck and there's only a week and a half for me to perfect my recipe.

And bake a minimum of twelve dozen of the little motherfuckers. Make them look good.

And figure out a way to transport them without incident to the Harley Davidson Museum.

I can't back out unless I forfeit my 40 bucks.

I think it would cost less to show up with cupcakes and get that deposit back.

I can't get over how it doesn't make sense that you don't get anything back of what you put into supplies, etc. unless you win.

But the reason I wanted to do this is just so I could say I did it. So I am.

Shit.

Fuck.

Motherfucker.

I need to come up with something good.

Presentable.

Yummy.

Fast.