Pop culture obsessives writing for the pop culture obsessed.
We may earn a commission from links on this page

Here's a selection of cakes that do not, in fact, look like cakes

We may earn a commission from links on this page.
Image for article titled Here's a selection of cakes that do not, in fact, look like cakes
Screenshot: Sugar High Score

What if we were to tell you that there are cakes out there in the world right this minute that do not look at all like cakes? “Oh, I’ve watched the Food Network before,” you might say, to which we’d respond: “No. We’re not talking about cakes that look like nice little forest scenes or cartoon characters. We’re talking about nasty surprise deserts made to fool the eye and foster general distrust in all who see them.”

A few days ago, this wasn’t a concern we had to deal with. A few days ago we were blissfully ignorant, still trusting that the vase next to us was actually a vase and not a cake shrouded in deception. Then we saw a video from Tasty that shattered our worldview. To see what we mean, just check out this assortment of sneaky little fuckers.


God has abandoned the bakers responsible for these. All hope for the essential goodness of humanity withers and dies in the face of these two-faced, evil creations. A potted plant that is actually a cake you can slice apart and eat? No, we say. No, no, no. A roll of toilet paper that someone may mistakenly pick up in an effort to clean their bodies of waste, only to discover that they’re rubbing a dessert on their butt? Horrible! Worst of all, there are foods you might expect to be the foods they claim to be—a pizza, a coconut, a platter of grilled meat and vegetables, a pair of bananas—only to see them revealed for the sugary dissemblers that they are.


These are dishonest cakes. They’re liar cakes, made to unravel our understanding of the world and leave us broken, shaken creatures afraid of the everyday objects all around us. Give us back our corpse cakes and delicious treats made to look like scenes of eye-watering cinematic body horror. At least with those we were repulsed enough to give the hoax-cakes space—to know on an instinctual, animal level that what we saw before us was dangerous. Now we don’t even have that. We’ve traveled to an era of post-truth cake-making. We’re adrift in a nonsensical sea of fondant waves, psychologically shattered beneath a night sky that, when you cut into it, reveals itself to actually be made from blueberry-flavored batter.

Send Great Job, Internet tips to gji@theonion.com