6 degrees of cupcake
(I know! Exciting, right?!)
Well, not famous-famous, like your mom would recognize his name, but famous like he made a black-and-white indie film that inspired many young adults to quit meaningless McJobs and strike out on a quest for creative fulfillment. Or like, to wish they could, you know? If it weren't for all the bills.
The reason the cupcakes have great personal meaning for me is that I once asked this famous person to marry me and he said YES (I have a witness), but then he reneged and ran off shortly thereafter to marry a hot journalist whom he had been dating. Men are so fickle. Bastards.
Anyway, having obtained one of the cupcakes via mysterious means (actually, it's fairly straightforward, but I'm keeping it a mystery for the romance of it all), I have done the obvious thing and enshrined it in my office as a tribute to lost love. It rests in state on my windowsill in a clear plastic bakery sarcophagus. All alone. FOR ETERNITY. Or until something starts to grow on it (ick).