If I was a cake, I think I would be the kind of cake you get for your wacky friend for his birthday party. And I would be baked into the shape of a giant middle finger. When they unveil my delicousness, everyone would laugh. Not because middle fingers are funny, but because of the clever and subtle Mel Brooks type of humor behind it. You see, it’s a cake, but it’s also like this other thing! You could get me down at that hilarious store where you buy jelly beans labelled "Sex Pills" or get those t-shirts that say "Over the Hill."

As for flavor, it doesn’t really matter, since at a party where they serve middle finger cakes, it all gets jammed into people’s noses and ears anyway. Yeah, I’d be the kind of cake you tear a chunk out of to smear on your friend. Hopefully, I’d be a happy overly died color so I could stain clothes and remind everyone of their silly cake romp day. And when I say happy, I mean that as a euphamism for "gay." Pink and baby blue colors, with gorgeous pastel frosting flowers adorning the top of the middle finger. But this frosting packs a punch, baby! Crazy Al down at Big Al’s Mentally Handicapped Humor Hut filled it with pure cinnamon oil! Look out, kids! That frosting is hot stuff!

Maybe I would have some frosting on top that spelled out, "Happy Birthday, Tony Danza." A true artist who can make the transition from porn star to sitcom actor. Or even better, I could be a giant cardboard cake and Tony Danza would burst out of me, naked, quoting famous catch phrases from Who’s the Boss. If I could remember anything about that god damn stupid show, I would include one.

But I would hate to write an essay on what kind of cake I would be by myself, so I got a second opinion. The following is an answer from my friend Rosy in England. I told her to keep the Brit lingo to a minimum. Normally our discussions are based more around video games than metaphorical cake things, so this may not be the best paper ever written. But here’s what she wrote:

There are many answers to this profound riddle.

1) (warily) "Um... cake. Yeah. I like chocolate cake with chocolate icing. Chocolate. With my name on. It's mine, and - and – you can't have any."

2) (sternly) "A beautiful birthday cake with pink icing - and candles - with a hacksaw baked inside it." (pause, nodding) "You dig?"

3) (excitedly) "A blue hair cake with earrings. I'm not a cake, I'm a plane! Nee-yowww! Look out! Rat-tat-tat!"

4) (emotionally) "If I was a cake, there'd be enough for everybody. The young, the old, the mentally deficient, commies, blacks - do they eat cake? Anyway, the rich, the poor, the homeless ... and no raisins. Everybody can eat me."

I didn't actually consider your cake question properly, but I think an honest answer would probably be less funny. I mean, you would obviously be a really cool cake. With your name on, certainly, written in flames or glitter or snow-spray. A cake with little dancing legs and a big grin.

Anyway, you should use the blue hair cake idea because I'm still laughing about it, and it would be cool to run around the room spit-firing everyone. Emphasis on the spit."

So now that you’ve heard her opinion, I can tell you that we’re both wrong. I would probably be a cake shaped like a big dick. Maybe that said, "Jesus Loves You." And my mother cake would be so proud.