Dear Man Who Hosts Ultimate Cake Off:
I am oddly attracted to you. Is it your chiseled face? Your stern, yet kind demeanor? Or just your proximity to cake?
I suppose I’ll never know.
But perhaps the mystery is part of the appeal, my spatula-wielding king. You are the fondant to my buttercream. You are the poppy seeds to my lemon cake. I want you to dirty ice all my layers, and cream me at low speeds until frothy.
Until next Monday at 10 pm on TLC, lover.
Fatteningly yours,
Max
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