The Cashmere Apocalypse

It all started early one Saturday morning. Okay, so it was early one Saturday afternoon, whatever. I was deep into a snoring session trying to sleep off the gallon of boxed Merlot from the night before when I heard it, him.

Mumbled talking from my room mate, Bird. What the hell? I had specifically told him REPEATEDLY in the past to NEVER wake me up.

“Hey, Asterisk. Uhhh, isn’t today Eerie’s birthday party? It’s just past noon and I’m pretty sure you mentioned the party started at two. Don’t you have to make some food and decorate? ”

20130722_005532 (1)

“Is the apartment on fire?” I asked him while throwing a pillow over my puffy face.

“Hey listen, everyone is going to be here soon. You should probably set up.”

Just then, knocking on the front door. My dog started barking and my head began throbbing. It was Eerie, she was here already and I hadn’t even rolled out of bed yet. Bird walked towards to the door to let her inside. I sludged my enormous, beastly white legs over to the side of the bed in an attempt to lift myself up when it happened.

I lost my balance.

Faster than the last Mexican leaving a gang rape I flew. That’s right, into the side of my coffee table knocking off what was left in my fish bowl sized wine glass. Red wine sloshed onto my carpet and splattered all over my walls. Now my apartment resembled the scene of the gang rape, had the victim been on her period or worse yet, giving birth.

Eerie walked inside just in time to witness the catastrophe. I’m not sure who was laughing harder, her or Bird.

“Oh my God , Asterisk! Are you Okay?” she asked in between gurgles of roaring laughter.

“Fuck you both,” I hadn’t been up five minutes and already my day was starting to suck.

“I’m sorry,”  she lied, “Look at my cake! Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked lifting the lid to the enormous cardboard box in her hand. I peered inside. The top was a mural, a baby photo of Eerie made out of frosting. It was probably the most realistic portrait I had ever seen on food.

“Holy shit! That’s amazing!” I was impressed, for a second I even forgot about the mess I was going to have to clean up.

“It was a surprise from my aunt,” Eerie explained.

“For my birthday I want a cake like that, only with that picture of me pissing in the sink!” I exclaimed. What a brilliant idea. I am a genius, even hung over.


With that I threw my blanket over the mess and limped my way towards the bathroom. I needed a shower. Bird bumped into me in the hall way, in his hand probably the biggest bottle of whiskey I had ever seen.

“What?” he asked, noting my astonishment.

“Whiskey? You don’t even drink and besides it’s not even noon.”

“It’s 12:07 and I drink, on special occasions! Besides this is the good stuff. Let’s have a toast to Eerie for her birthday.”

Just the thought made me want to hurl.

“Fuck that shit, I’m too hung over. You two go ahead,” I explained.

“You are hung over every day. Seriously, you are gong to tell me that you are throwing a party and actually not drinking? I am shocked!”

“Pffft!” I said, “Oh, I’m drinking. Just not that shit. Pour me some Champagne!” I ordered.

Bird rolled his eyes.

“I’ll have a shot with you!” Eerie exclaimed, excited to start her party.

Bird took out two shot glasses and opened the whiskey just as I slammed the door to the bathroom. I decided to take my sweet ass time in there. After a long shower and a good hour of plastering my face like a mime I exited the bathroom feeling like a pinup girl. If pinup girls are over weight, bleach-fried blonde, drunken skanks.

Eerie and Bird were sitting at the kitchen table and I noticed a good portion of the whiskey was already missing.

“Hey, Asterisk, took you long enough,” Bird chirped, obviously already jolly on spirits, “I thought you might had fallen in. I was considering calling a plumber.”

“Nobody likes you!” I screamed as I made my way down the back steps and into our shared courtyard with my dog. The dumb beast immediately squatted near a dying tree and began emptying her bladder. I walked over to the picnic bench and began brushing off the leaves in an attempt to clear out space for the BBQ supplies.

“You need to clean up after you dog,” a gruffy voice came scratching through a dark screen on the apartment below. It was Psycho Neighbor, I hated that cunt and was in no mood to deal with her shit that day. So, I did what any mature young woman would do. That’s right. I flipped her the bird before leading my dog back upstairs into my rotting abode.

Once back inside, I entered the kitchen and pulled out plastic cutlery and paper plates from a drawer. Then I reached into my fridge and grabbed the condiments and headed back down stairs. I left everything on the community picnic bench and lit the coals for the grill.

Right as the coals started to burn, Red came though my back gate with a giant cardboard box. “Hey Girl!” I yelled excitedly, “What the hell is in that box?”

“Jello shots!”

“What?” I asked in astonishment.

“Jello shots! I have seven layers, five different flavors of vodka!”


After displaying her jiggly prizes of mixology on the grand wooden throne for eight, the two of us retreated into the apartment. Bird was sitting alone on the dining room table with less than half of his giant whiskey jug remaining.

“Where’s Eerie?” I asked him.

Before he could even part his wet whistle to release a word, we heard it.

Projectile vomit.

I ran to the bathroom door and pushed it open just in time to see Eerie sloppily fall onto her ass. Her eyes were rolling back in her head and her clothes were soaked in regurgitated liquor.


Red came to my rescue and helped me peel off her desecrated clothing.

“Get her into the tub!” I yelled.

“I’m trying!” Red snapped back at me.

“Wake up, Eerie! You can’t pass out before your party! This is your day, Eerie, YOUR DAY!”


Next, I slapped her in her blotchy face.

Still nothing.

We filled the tub to the brim with cold water. The bitch wasn’t even squirming.

I needed a plan.


I went to the freezer and pulled out a ten pound bag I had bought for the ice chest and overflowed the tub with it.

This worked.

“Stop!” Eerie screamed, “I’m cold!”

“Good!” I yelled back, “You need to wake up, you are going to miss your party!”

“Just let me take a little nap.” she begged.

“In a minute,” I said giggling, as I grabbed my camera and snapped a few photos. This bitch was now paying the fee for laughing at my fall earlier.

Knocking began radiating through the front door. Guests were arriving. Quickly Red and I pulled Eerie out of the tub and into some of my clean clothes. Then we laid her in Birds bed for a nap. Bitch was out cold.

It didn’t take long for my apartment to fill up with bodies, many whom I didn’t even know. I was fine with that though, I love parties. Even with strangers. 

I made my way back down into the court yard to throw some burgers on the grill. I grabbed a plate off of the table and that’s about when I felt it.

A strange tickling on my hand, actually my entire arm was feeling this strange sensation followed by burning.

Intense burning.

I looked down to discover my entire arm was covered in large fire ants.

Like a drunken hick at a rodeo, riding a mechanical bull, I bounced up and down tossing my arms in an attempt to free myself from the almighty insects. I screamed louder than Tara Reid in a shark movie.

Where the hell did they come from?

After freeing my arm from my miniature attackers, I looked down at the table to discover old, rotting rib bones scattered across my clean utensils. They were covered in ants.


I looked up to discover Psycho Neighbor sitting on her porch smoking a cigarette with a smile across her ugly, smug face.

“I told you to clean up after your dogs,” she huffed out with the voice of a crazy robot.

I hate her.

I stomped back up the stairs, “BIRD!” I screamed, “Psycho Bitch just left old, ant ridden, rib bones on my BBQ supplies!”

“What the hell? I fucking hate that bitch. I’ll take care of it,” he promised.

Just then, Shelly showed up. She was already trashed, yippee!

“Hey, Whore. I just got here. Where’s the vodka?” she asked.

“In the kitchen, I’ll get it,” I offered already annoyed at her. After pouring the skank a shot I brought it out to the living room. Shelly was at the stereo, turning knobs and pushing buttons.

“Tun this shit up!” she ordered.

“It’s loud enough, Shelly. Psycho neighbor is on a rampage today and I don’t need her calling the cops on us again.”

“What?” she asked, “Fuck her!” With that Shelly turned the volume to full blast. I reached over and turned it back down.

“I’m serious, Shelly, don’t.”

Shelly pushed me aside and turned the volume back up to max.

“Seriously, STOP! You are going to blow my speakers!” My hand was just almost to the volume button when it happened.


It was cake.

That’s right! Shelly dug her drunken paw right into the cake mosaic and pulled out a chunk of Eerie’s face. Splat! The second piece went right into my hair.

It was on.

I reached inside the box and grabbed a hunk of my own. I chucked it at that beer-belly-bloated skank like it was a fast ball. Everyone around us looked on in horror.

No one was safe.




Cake was flying everywhere. 

Shelly grabbed a corner slab and smashed it into the sweater of a little gay boy we didn’t know.

“Oh my God! Stop!” he screamed.

My eyes began to twinkle. I loved this! I looked over at Shelly and she nodded, she knew what I was thinking.

Double team the helpless gay boy.




“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH! You stupid trolls!” he shreeked, running towards the kitchen, “This is cashmere!”

This was hilarious!

The angrier he got, the more cake we delivered. Finally, he made his way to the door and ran crying down the street, “You stupid whores! I hate you! You will pay for this sweater! I’m calling my attorney!”


Once he was down the block I gave up and was making my way back up the stairs when I felt it.


Something hit my back. It was not cake. I turned around just in time t be hit dead on, right in my face with shit.

Dog shit.

Probably, I deserved this.

“I told you to clean up after your dog!”

I hate psycho neighbor.

I really hate her.

Eerie had risen from her slumber and wandered into the hallway just in time to see her cake being destroyed.

The following morning, I woke up next to Shelly by the sound of my dog licking the carpet.. Our hair was literally stuck together with frosting. We had to soak our heads in warm water to be separated. The stupid dog had diarrhea for days, some even on the carpet. The mess lasted for months and the floor never fully recovered.

When I moved out of that apartment several years later, I found cake.


If you enjoyed what you just read, become active in the authors warped community:

*Don’t forget to “LIKE” the “It’s Not My Fault.” Facebook page!*

*Leave a comment below*

*Buy the Book!*

*Subscribe to the “It’s Not My Fault” Youtube & Funny or Die pages*

*Follow this shit on Twitter*

*Stay updated on Google+*

What do YOU have to say about this? Comment here!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.