That's exactly what I thought.  A big red Heinz turd.

I once saw a woman at a diner pour ketchup into the palm of her hand, lick it off, and repeat.  I was 6 or 7 at the time, and it's one of the nastiest things I've ever seen.

Good God, who puts that much fucking ketchup on their burger?

Agreed.  My colleagues take the Yankee Swap idea one shitty step further by insisting that you cannot bring a new item for exchange.  It should be something that you already own but are willing to part with, as if you are already planning to add it to some Goodwill donation pile that you're amassing.  There's this set…

One of us! One of us! Gooble-gobble, gooble-gobble!

Perhaps there is a way for me to turn the tables during Awkward Cake to make the experience more uncomfortable for my co-workers than me.  Maybe assault everyone with a probing line of very weird and personal questions?  Start crying uncontrollably?  Begin things by innocently asking people about the goings-on in…

If I worked with you and requested a Fudgie the Whale cake from Carvel, would you be able to track that down?  I'd probably forgive the to' up "HAPY BIRTDAY" banner that will be hanging in my cubicle for some Fudgie the Whale cake.  :) 

During my 20s and 30s, I always maintained that I would not go batshit crazy when I turned 40, and now I'm extra bummed because I'm bummed… if that makes any sense. 

I'm the volunteer coordinator at a mid-sized university/art museum complex.

I, too, have tried my best to avoid the Awkward Cake gatherings of others (and just imagine the sheer Awkward Cake-yness of an on-the-clock baby shower or bridal shower!), but you're right in that the organizers do everything short of bashing you on the head and dragging you away from your desk to ensure that you…

Exactly.  I'd much prefer they celebrate it without me.

Thanks, @TheTuckPendletonMachine:disqus :)

I'm very sorry to hear about your job woes, but there is a part of me that envies the fact you have a door to close when you reach your capacity for work-related bullshit.  I pretend that I have to pee urgently and sprint like mad to the ladies' room, then check under the stalls for feet, and finally lock myself in…

My inner 9-year-old wishes your inner 9-year-old a happy birthday and completely understands your Disney World excitement.  Enjoy a Dole whip! 

I work at an art museum — welcome to my 8-to-5.  It is sad/amusing that you observed this type of behavior from "adults."  We typically expect such shenanigans from the students on our school tours.

This week I'm barely putting up with my 40th birthday.  I'm not mourning the progessive atrophy of my ovaries or any such cliched nonsense you'd see depicted in a "Cathy" comic strip.  But I have been blue of late and can't help but think it's related to this milestone birthday in some sort of "Where am I going?  What…

I probably watched the Shirley Temple version a few dozen times as a little girl.  Mostly because I was taking tap lessons and was delusional about becoming an adorable child star.  Anyway…  having rewatched it recently, I can honestly say that all of its appeal lies in the presence of Arthur Treacher.  I've always…

@avclub-cfe912f5cb3aa572bd1c9ae2a9b82207:disqus , also featuring music by Ravi Shankar?  Interesting!

I'd love to see a really great version of "Peter Pan" as well.  Recommendations anyone?

My father worked in law-enforcement and was on the overnight shift for many years.  However, I knew he enjoyed the antics of Sylvester the Cat and my 5-year-old brain rationalized that he would prefer to forego sleep rather than miss a single cartoon.  I would tip-toe into my parents' bedroom to wake him, softly…