Mrs. Trump of Country Markets (WI stall at the Farmers Market every other week) is off on her hols. She makes a wonderful carrot cake, which helps us at the office get through the week. In her absence, I've asked my colleagues what sort of cake they'd like. This has gained absurd momentum and developed into a song/TV show/franchise, 'Cake of
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I'm more of a savoury fella anyway.
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I absolutely hate Chr*stm*s cake though.
And jam.
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