I try to draw. I put icing inside things.

I told you I'd give you some advice on how to put icing inside of cupcakes! I even made helpful drawings.

I'd like to say upfront this is totally ripped off from, er, inspired by, Hyperbole and a Half, the Old Skewl posts. But she says right here in her FAQs:

If I draw picture with MS Paint on my blog, will you think I'm copying you?

Probably not. Unless you steal my work directly or redraw/rewrite my stuff, you are good to go. I love that more people are getting interested in adding artwork to their blogs!

I even used Paintbrush (JUST LIKE HER CREEPY STARS IN EYES).

Here are some NFAQs (Not Frequently Asked Questions):

How did you get your handwriting to be so ironically and hilariously bad?

I didn't. That's just what my handwriting looks like.

But it looks like a mentally deficient five-year-old chicken wrote that stuff.

I know.

How do you function in the real world with handwriting as profoundly terribly as that?

By avoiding writing by hand whenever possible. Occasionally, I have to fill in a form by hand and people laugh at me.

Will you make me cupcakes?

No. No after you just insulted my handwriting.

First things first: I want to share what inspired my to put icing inside of cupcakes in the first place.

In the magazine section of Barnes and Noble, I saw this:

Leaving aside the sheer awesome of a magazine devoted to breakfast, let's look closely on all the various awesomeness going on in this picture:

French Toast Chocolate Sandwiches! With Bacon! And a random berry! (to keep it healthy)! For dinner!

'Cause you see, as awesome as chocolate is (frosting, nutella, whatever), there's usually not enough of it. I once made Big Cupcakes because, well, we randomly had big cupcake liners in the house (I don't know why).

The trouble with a big cupcake is that the frosting-to-cupcake ratio gets all off. I don't know about you, but I see cupcakes as pretty much a vehicle for frosting. I know that some people don't like frosting, but I find that so hard to believe that it's likely to send me into an existential spiral where I'm like "Other people must not taste what I taste!" which leads to "We are each alone, locked into our our perceptions of the world!" which of course leads to "MAYBE THE WORLD IS NOT REAL" which leads to "OF COURSE IT'S NOT, IF SOMEONE ELSE CAN NOT LIKE FROSTING THEN THERE'S NO GUARANTEE THAT MY PERCEPTION OF THE WORLD MATCHES ANYONE ELSE'S PERCEPTION OF THE WORLD LET ALONE SOME VERIFIABLE OBJECTIVE REALITY" and the horror of this leads to more frosting eating.

But the truth is, even if you generously frost a big cupcake, those first few bites of cupcake-with-frosting are going to be infinitely better than the last bits of just-cupcake-stalk. It's the muffin-top problem. Not, not this type of muffin top. The problem that the muffin top is the best part of the muffin and, really, eating the stalk is just a duty so you don't feel like you're wasting food. And you can't solve the problem by opening a store that sells just muffin tops, like Elaine's boss in Seinfeld because then you have the issue of what to do with all the muffin stalks and you can't give them to a homeless shelter because the homeless folk will feel insulted that you fobbed off boring muffin stalks on them and pretty much everyone can identify with this experience.

SO. My solution was to put frosting INSIDE the big cupcakes.

So how did I do this? Let me explain.

So that finally...

The trouble is, the parts didn't really adhere. Most people ate them by breaking the cupcake into two pieces. Probably because even when I make regular-sized cupcakes, I still tend to overfill the pan and make bigger cupcakes than are really required