your goose is probably only half-baked at this point

One of the more entertaining exercises in which a fan of Star Wars  can engage is to quietly comment to a bunch of Very Manly Men with Gatekeeping Tendencies where Star Wars  is concerned that Chewbacca didn't get a medal at the end of the original Star Wars  because those weren't medals, they were the Star Wars  equivalent of wedding rings, and the Throne Room theme  is actually a wedding processional.  Chewie's the obvious correct choice for best man, and why wouldn't Leia officiate?  She's very official. (The sputtering, blustering, "that is NOT what's going on" insisting that results is absolutely hysterical  -- because what's it matter?  It's a fictional story about space wizards and laser swords.  Calm down everybody.) Side-note:  that Throne Room Theme is a wonderful  processional.  Have your own processional picked out if you're having me officiate your nuptials, because if you don't, that's what you're comi...

Henry David Thoreau once wrote the famous piece of advice: Simplify, simplify, simplify. He'd likely be patently horrified  by this recipe, I should think, because I took the idea of a two-ingredient cake (which involves mixing a can of pumpkin with a can of spice cake and baking it until it's done) and turned it into what amounts to carrot cake that lacks carrot but has a bajillion other ingredients in it instead. Whoops. The cake's super good, though! I made the first one with a spice cake, and it was all right, then I made the second one to the specifications you see here, only I'd had a really trying day at work and was exorcising my anxieties via baking, and there was definitely a glass of very potent wine involved somewhere along the line, and so at some point I discovered that not only is it TOTALLY possible to separate your thumbnail from the rest of your thumb by picking at the frilly butt-end of a granny smith apple, it really bloody hurts  because apple...

So everyone within three zip-codes of me knows that I have an unhealthy adoration for Luke Skywalker, that R2D2 will always be my #1 favorite Star Wars  character (accept no substitutions), and that Chewbacca deserves WAY more love than he gets in canon and fandom and everything in between. What they may not know is that Lando Calrissian makes me seriously question my sexual orientation which, until 27 December 2015 when I saw The Empire Strikes Back  for the first time, was pretty securely pansexual with a heavy tilt towards women. Then Lando sauntered on the scene and into my heart in those goddamn polyester bellbottoms lord preserve me  and I needed to take a moment to remember how to breathe . This cake reminds me of him: Rich, beautiful, delicious, and riddled with all kinds of guilt. In Lando's case, the guilt comes from selling out his dear friend to a vacuum cleaner with a nasty attitude and a breathing problem. In the cake's case, it comes from the amount of ...