Paula Deen's Butter Cake

So I know I've been light on the real true bad ideas lately. But it's getting warmer out so I'm sure to amend that soon. I just turned 30, I have an actual job, and I've been in a relationship for, like, four years. That kind of changes the sort of terrible decisions that I'm likely to make, and it even makes me less likely to make them, I'm afraid.

It seems that what's good for me is often bad for Bad Idea Potluck. (Oh, Atlanta, how I miss all the inspiration you offered me on such a regular basis.) But, like my friend Hank, who is this blog's patron saint in many ways, I vow to be even weirder than ever in my thirties, thus ensuring the longevity of this blog and its original mandate. Call it a renewal of vows.Things may be going well, but I feel a lot of stupid coming on.

A lot has happened since I wrote that first post in 2007. The world we live in today has Four Loko in it, for instance. I'd do a post on that beverage, but that's so unimaginative that I'm bored thinking about it. Instead, I'd like to relate one of my worst ideas lately.

I'd wanted to make Paula Deen's Gooey Butter Cake for maybe six months, but I've been too busy and too chicken. Paula is another patron saint over here. This week I found the strength to both make the cake and even consume some of it and I would recommend it to anyone. It might be the most delicious cake I have even eaten. It contains about two sticks of butter and a full package of cream cheese. Make sure you beat the cream cheese well and don't bake it too long and you're golden.

It's not a healthy snack though. You eat a piece when you are planning to stay in. It's almost as bad as this heart wrecker:



Actually, it's "I Won't Say Goodbye" by Gentleman Jess and His Men that's really been messing with me lately. But I couldn't find that online.