Well I'm going to tell you about the asshole that works with catering at Eisenhower Hall in West Point.
Mike Musco and I are changing to go home out of our ugly penguin costumes. This guy walks into the bathroom all bloddied up. Talking to his other friend about how he got fucked up. Now I'm not sure who this guy is - so I'm don't know if he was at the wedding and got into a fight or fell down the stairs drunk or whatever. I look at the guy who now has about 7 bandaids on his face in all different places. So now I ask...
Me - "Bro, what happened?"
Guy - "I was in the back"
Me - "you work here?"
guy - "yeah - so one of the ladies goes what are we gonna do with the wedding cake?"
me - "uh huh"
Guy - "the lady says, 'just throw it out' - so I'm all - you're not gonna throw it out."
Me - "Um - Ok"
Guy - "the lady goes what are ya gonna do with it? I say 'this'
Mike - "oh man - there's like shelves and posts in there"
Guy - "yeah well I know that now - I won't be doing that again - If I would've known that there was stuff in it - I wouldn't have slammed my face in it as hard as I did - it was full force"
Me - "wow that really sucks - well hope you feel better man"
Friend - "Man you are really fucked up"
Guy - "yeah - we could tell a story about getting in a fight"
So my wise words to you - don't slam your face into a wedding cake - you will fuck up your face. Which is good to know as my family and friends have always had a knack for getting violent with cake.