It's like a Hollywood movie -- a quickly shifting melange of love, hate, contempt, and indigestion. An apt analogy for a place that names the flavors in retarded LA fashion, such as "Rich and Famous", "Skinny Mini", and "Blondie", and even glazes the top of each cupcake with luminescent gold powder just as heavily as a PV girl piles on Orgasm blush (and is just as shimmery).
I'd had a big lunch, so thought the vegan lemon "Skinny Mini" was apropos. The first two or three bites? Heaven. Freaking heaven. Then some funky aftertaste set in and my pancreas curdled trying to squirt out enough insulin to get all that freaking sugar gone. My SO got the red velvet one, which was a LOT better than my vegan monstrosity, and he even generously declared it the best cupcake he'd ever had. I stared longingly as he gulped his all down, not offering to share more than the one initial taste. I tried to pawn off the remnants of the Mini on him, but even he couldn't stomach it. Sadly, we ended up pitching half of it. And at $3.50 or something per, that's a waste.
Will I try it again? If I'm in the neighborhood, and you can bet your taut, spray-tanned ass that I will be going for the full fat version this time.