Cupcakes

I don't listen to the radio. More specifically, I don't listen to commercial radio (I am, after all, a giant NPR geek). I hate ads, I hate listening to forty-five minutes of dreck to hear one middling good song, I don't like 80's revival, I hate hate hate that new "I am a murderer" song by whatserface (so just break up with him, you ho bag!) so me and commercial radio just don't get along.

Unfortunately, since our shiny car stereo got stolen and we had to put back in the crap-ass original factory radio with its crap-ass antenna, I don't get OPB in patches. Large patches. Like every time I go around a hill, or in a dip, or behind an SUV. Which is a problem in Oregon. So I occasionally slip and just punch through the crap that is commercial radio here.

Which is when I heard this Partnership for a Drug Free America PSA, it went something like this:

"My friend told me to smoke pot last week. So I did. And today, she told me to shoplift, that everyone is doing it. So now I have a cupcake down my pants. With frosting. And it won't sit still. And now the manager is looking at me..."

Wha-huh?!?!?!?!

A cupcake.

With frosting.

IN HER PANTS.

And it won't sit still.

I wanna be in that development meeting, where a restless be-frosting-ed cupcake down a girl's pants seemed like the ideal choice for keeping kids off the evil weed.

(I have been Googling and Googling every choice I can about cupcakes and shoplifting trying to find some real reference to this. I want to make sure I didn't dream it in some pot-induced stupor.)