Economic Collapse Crumb Cake

With the fat, rich captains of industry wiping their asses with your mortgage and private- jetting to St. Tropez as the country festers into a third world cesspool, you’re bound to die of starvation tomorrow. These richest 10 percent of Americans control two-thirds of America’s net worth, and that means you’ll waste away with cancer with no healthcare and only donated Lunchables to eat. On your deathbed, you’ll wish you had moved Iran, Nigeria or Turkey, where income inequality isn’t as big a problem. Best to try some Economic Collapse Crumb Cake today before the government throws you under the bus for some Cuban cigars and private golf club memberships.

Ingredients
1 cup sugar
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 pound (1 stick) unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 pinch salt
1 cup buttermilk
1 egg, lightly beaten

Directions
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Lightly grease a 7×11-inch baking pan. Combine sugar, flour and butter. Use a fork to cut butter in until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Set aside 1/2 cup of this mixture to use as topping. To the remaining flour mixture, add cinnamon, cloves, baking soda and salt. Lightly stir in the buttermilk and egg. Pour batter into prepared pan. Sprinkle cake with reserved topping. Bake for 25 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into center of the cake comes out clean. Call your broker and tell her to have all your assets converted to cake.

Las Vegas Woman Spews BP Oil Spill Cake Name, Wins Chocolate Endangered Species!

What better way to celebrate the Engulfed Coast than by gorging on little cream puffs bursting with artery-clogging serum? There isn’t one, and this is why we’ve oozed into the filled-pastry arena by selecting “Butaneous Profiteeroles in Drilling Disaster Sauce” as the winner of the BP Oil Spill Cake Naming Contest. And we don’t care that a profiterole isn’t a cake because profiteroles more disgusting than cakes. Ms. Gigi Generaux of Las Vegas, NV submitted the winning entry.

Congratulations Ms. Generaux!

The butaneous submission beat out other gross names such as “Smothered Turtle Pie with Dispersant Cream,” By Freddy Bowen of Philadelphia, PA, “Devil’s Crude Cake” by Shan Powell of Ontario, and over 80 others. Gigi will receive a free set of Apocalypse Cakes Recipe Cards and a chocolate endangered species mold as her prizes.

Other Honorable Mentions:

“Deep Chocolate Horizon” by Jason West of San Francisco, CA
“Gulf of FUBAR Cake” by Margie Hayes of Pensacola, FL
“Brain Pampering Impalement Arts Cake” by Juliet Cook of Valley City, OH
“Beach Party Rainbow Stain Cake” by Troy Hewitt of Aliso Viejo, CA
“Gulp of Mexico Pinata Lava Cake” by Brian Maschler of Austin, TX
“Deepwater Horizon Exploding Dark Chocolate Petro-Cake” by Kristina Felix of Austin, TX

Seismic Haitian Mud Cake

With all the bathroom-buggering politicians crushing already starved countries with embargoes, military interventions and corrupt aid distributions, your nation is surely next to become so destitute that all you have to eat are cakes made of mud. Fortunately, we’ve developed a tastier version of this type of dessert for your pre-poverty palate. In fact, you’ll relish its flavor for as many years as it will take for anyone to notice that you’ve been eating dirt for decades. So celebrate life now and try one of these organic Seismic Haitian Mud Cakes before the “First World” uses its foreign policy to starve you in the name of democracy, privatization, SUVs and Viagra® — you never know how long it will take for a disaster to strike that will guilt the international community into finally bringing you a meal.

Ingredients
5 lbs. dirt
3 Tbsp. salt
1 cup vegetable shortening

Directions
Put your dirt into a strainer (or whatever’s available) and hold it over a pot. Then run water (or whatever’s available) through the strainer to extract the rocks, etc. Mix in the shortening and the salt. Then pat the mixture into a cake and leave it to dry under the scorching sun. The cake will be ready to eat after 12 hours, after which time you can decorate it with whatever happens to be around.