Yeast Infection

I was dancing with a woman. She told me she had a yeast infection. I said. “Well. Bake me a fucking loaf of bread. A couple of corn muffins, a jelly donut. I don’t give a shit. I’m always in the market for quality-baked goods. You couldn’t squeeze a birthday cake out of that thing by any chance, could you? No. No. I didn’t think so. No pressure, honey, no pressure at all. Why don’t you just turn around and give me a nice pineapple upside-down cake. And a dozen oatmeal cookies. Skip the raisins. Icksnay on the aisinsray."