If you put music on top of noise, it's like putting icing on top of mud; it might look like a cake, but it doesn't taste like one.
I know that some people use lavender, incense, and cake as sedatives, but for me, a 'nose bath' in an old book just does something.
Of all the quirky, inexplicable, reindeer-embellished holiday traditions out there, making your own Yule log might take the cake.
The beautiful thing about having family that has diabetes is knowing what not to do. I got an uncle that thinks insulin is supposed to enable him to eat cake.
If I can tell my story, and help anybody else in the interim, then that's icing on the cake.
I stick to a clean diet with lots of organic food and raw juices. Every now and then, I have a slice of cake or pizza, though; you have to have cheat days to keep you going.
The Hell in a Cell match that always sticks in my mind is the original Michaels versus Undertaker match. It was really something. The bout itself was so good, while Kane's debut made it even more memorable. That takes the cake in terms of Hell in a Cell matches.
Why not question what can or can't be a layer in layer cake?
When I was a child, she'd have me wash the lettuce ten times or open walnuts by hand to make a cake. I was like, 'Mom, this is ridiculous.' But now? I run my kitchen the same way.
I'll do almost anything for cake - even trample little children!
For reasons that aren't quite clear I derive a weird and almost inappropriate pleasure from making a cake that looks like a decomposing log. Essentially, that's what a Buche de Noel is supposed to look like, complete with meringue 'mushrooms' poking out of the chocolate buttercream 'bark.'
If I could wave a magic wand, I would be a size 6 and still be able to eat cake every day.
For centuries, divorce in the West was a male tool of control - a legislative chastity belt designed to ensure that a wife had one master, while a husband could enjoy many mistresses. It is as though, having denied women their cake for so long, the makers have no wish to see them enjoy it.
I first met my husband on the day we got married, when I was 20. I moved to be with him in Leeds, 165 miles from Luton. The kitchen was absolutely tiny. But I got my first hand-held mixer and first set of scales and first blue cake tin from Tesco and that was very exciting.
Nail polish is like the icing on the beauty cake.
I saw Boy George looking amazing, absolutely unbelievable, and messaged him asking for the number of his nutritionist. I got in touch with her, and she put me on this diet plan, working out which foods do and don't suit me. It's not rocket science - basically, don't eat cake, don't eat bread.
Everyone who knows me knows that I always eat cake. My nutritionist hates it, but I just tell her I like to eat it, and she's not going to stop me!
Dieting is odious and can require years of determination and sacrifice. I entirely understand the impulse to say, 'Screw it,' and have another piece of cake.
I do quite like Gehry's Guggenheim. But where in Bilbao it's seen as an outgrowth of years of investment in urban design and engineering, in Britain it's seen as the catalyst for urban regeneration rather than the icing on the cake.
Everyone has a favourite cake, pastry, pudding or pie from when they were kids.
