The houses grew more and more complex over the years. I eventually tired of building houses and branched out to other architectural challenges such as churches and train stations. I once even built a snowy North Pole village out of countless pounds of sugar cubes and hard candies. I'd pride myself on the fact that every house, bridge and building was completely edible with the exception of the heavy board it was built on. I found myself defending my properties from hungry visitors. These visitors were mainly my older brother and his posse of long-haired friends. After an afternoon jam-session and pot smoking break, they developed the munchies and their glossy red-eyed stares met my sugary creations. I stood by like an armed Hatfield defending his livestock from a low-life McCoy neighbor. In case anyone ever did successfully sneak a taste of the gingerbread, their taste buds would be shocked to discover the extra levels of cinnamon, allspice and ginger I had added in order to lend an extra dramatic scent to the dwelling.
The edible house here is his "Aaron Spelling Gingerbread House," named for the gigantic Holmby Hills mansion that was the talk of the town while under construction in the early 1990s.