If I Must Go, I Shall Go in Cake

Just the other day, after a half-hearted conversation about Mariska Hargitay and Jayne Mansfield, Zoe told me that, as far as death goes, decapitation wouldn't be so bad because you'd go instantly - no time to panic. This is crazy talk, of course. Why settle for such a grisly death?

When I go, I will go in style: I intend to suffocate in white frosting after I pass out in a wedding cake. Preferably someone else's wedding cake. In addition, I encourage all of my readers to opt for cake-based suffocation. To cleave unto any other death preference is to carry the invisible yet indelible mark of a lunatic.