Saturday's Storyteller: "Well, here I was, getting ready to jump out of her birthday cake."
by Belinda Roddie Well, here I was, getting ready to jump out of her birthday cake. All that yellow sponge buried in that delicious buttercream frosting - it was time for the scrumptious volcano to erupt. Well, as soon as I push myself out from that sweet prison, what should I hear but her screams. And not of excitement, either. "I swear, if I see Miranda's face here, I'll gonna bash it in with the fucking bat we're using for the piñata!" Welp. Time to get my pastry-caked ass right out of this condo and into the cold suburban night. Since when did Ainsley hate me? I couldn't tell if it had been a long term disdain or a short term one. Was it something I did or did? Was it the boy we both fell for in high school? Was it simply her unbridled rage that normally surfaced when she drank way too much jalapeño-infused tequila? Whatever the case, I was gonna take a long shower so I could stop smelling like sugar and buttermilk, head down to the bar, and or...