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OH MY GOD DELICIOUS STOP FUCKING EVERYTHING UP. PLEASE.

I literally opened Delicious this morning, stared at it, and said "Balls!" really loudly, so it's good nobody else is actually in the office yet.

I do not need a picture next to a link. I do not need any notes under the link that I DID NOT SPECIFICALLY PUT THERE. I just want the motherfucking link.

And nowhere in Settings is there a "Just The Motherfucking Link" option.

And it's not that I don't handle change well, it's that 99% of changes to internet websites are poor design choices brought on by a burning desire to make something more Social Media, because apparently Social Media is the Internet Porn of the new millienium, the hot concept of the moment which has a vague suggestion of "easy money" attached to it.

My rage shall give me energy today. Which is just as well, since today I'm getting paid to read Chicago Magazine cover to cover.

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The other day, onebrightroad linked me to this podcast, 99% Invisible, and I happened to download the episode about the Billy Possum.

A few years before the Billy Possum idea was floated, the Teddy Bear had come into existence, based on a story about President Theodore Roosevelt not shooting a pathetic-looking bear (but he did still eat her after someone else "put her out of her misery"). Apparently at the time it was super-weird and kind of creepy for kids to be playing with dolls that weren't human, but it was considered a fad.

Eager to cash in, William Howard Taft's spin doctors decided during his candidacy for president that they would create the Billy Possum, which did not have a cute story attached to it except for the fact that Taft liked to eat possum. So it didn't quite catch on the way the Teddy Bear did.

But I think it's kind of an awesome concept, the idea that every four to eight years there'd be a new stuffed toy to play with as the Presidential Mascot. (Too bad Millard Fillmore was pre-Roosevelt or we could have had the Mallard Fillmore.)

I mean, come on. The Woodrow Woodpecker! The Kennedy Camel! The Herbie Mole! (Herbert Hoover was a mining engineer.) Don't tell me you don't love the idea of a wee stuffed mole in a waistcoat.

And of course the Dick Cocker. Because that's only fair.

I was going to suggest the Barack Portuguese Water Dog but that's such a mouthful. On the other hand, the Obama Pup has a nice ring to it...

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So, after reading The Rape Of Europa, I decided to go back to fiction for a bit. (I also, whilst reading The Rape Of Europa, read some PG Wodehouse, but I'll get to that in a week or two.)

I thought that if I was going to be making Cthulu jokes I should probably actually read some HP Lovecraft. I chose At The Mountains Of Madness (possibly on a recc? I don't know why I would pick this on my own) because it had an introduction by China Mieville. I waited to read the introduction until after I'd read the book, because apparently "Introduction" translates to the writer of the introduction as "A good place to put all the spoilers for the story" most of the time. Unlike so many, Mieville's introduction actually comes with a spoiler warning, which is polite, I thought.

So I read At The Mountains Of Madness, which is a story about an antarctic expedition gone terribly wrong. I have some familiarity via twirlynoodle with the concept, but of course if the Scott expedition ever did run afoul of prehistoric monsters they did not record them as such. I'm pretty sure Scott would have said something like "Discovered multi-winged creatures under the ice. Claws, fangs. Spirits were not lifted by their theft of our canned goods."

( At The Mountains Of Madness, by HP Lovecraft )

Final Verdict: Full points for command of the language and some truly scary ideas, though the execution leaves something to be desired. But you don't have to take my word for it...you can read it yourself here.

Also, on recommendation because I was whining about At The Mountains Of Madness, I read The Colour Out Of Space. I found it, again, awfully description-y, but I think it holds together as a story a bit better than Mountains. It seems like there should be a surprise or twist of some kind in it, but there's really not; just creeping, encroaching horror.

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CUPCAKE ADVENTUR.

I'll explain the whole context within which I bought a half dozen cupcakes later (it's awesome) but wow. Magnolia Bakery. You make very good cupcakes, but did you have to import New York attitude along with New York recipes?

I asked for five different types of cupcake. They didn't have three of those five. Not because they'd sold out, but because they don't make certain cupcakes on certain days.

"You...may want to put that somewhere on your website," I said. I'm pretty sure I was mellow about it.

The two women who were serving up cupcakes, who had left me standing there for about five minutes before deigning to look at the customer area and notice me, got super-aggressive. IT IS ON THE WEBSITE. IT CHANGES MONTHLY. WE ONLY MAKE CARAMEL CUPCAKES ON THURSDAYS.

Jesus Christ, okay, give me a pumpkin one instead, whatever, it's just a cupcake. Except here is the Magnolia Bakery cupcake menu. Nowhere under any of the cupcakes does it say "Only made on Thursdays". It also doesn't say "Please be prepared to be yelled at by staff."

So my recommendation is that if you're in Chicago and considering Magnolia Bakery, walk two blocks over and one block up to Sugar Bliss, where they don't yell at you and actually list their daily offerings on the website. Or head down the escalator in Block 37 and get a cream puff from Beard Papa's.

(Magnolia does make delicious cupcakes though, I'm not gonna lie.)