My friend Lilly was recently in a car accident. She is okay, but bed-ridden, and her car is completely totaled. To make her feel better, my friends and I are going to make cake balls. Cake balls, if you’ve never made them, are seriously complicated. It’s a three-hour process. There is so much potential for error that we’ve resigned ourselves to the fact that we’ll need poison control on standby. See, we are not competent people when it comes to baking. We are a people of the “TV dinner” persuasion. I throw in an Easy Mac every other night. (And I’ve even screwed THOSE up. All you need to do is add water. Which is what I forgot to do.) We don’t even know where to find all of the ingredients, so we’ve given ourselves ample time (read: about seven hours) just in case something goes horribly wrong. This could go either way. I’ll keep you informed.