Definitely NOT cake-worthy.

Well, it is as I feared – I am not cake-worthy.

A guy came into the art room with a piece of cake (it looked good, too – white cake with strawberry filling. White cake is my favorite) to inform us that he had been summoned for the big party.

So, he's eating this cake and kind of rubbing it in that he was "summoned" for cake and we weren't. I said in my sternest voice possible "Get out of this art room with that cake." He thought I was joking. He started to laugh in a nervous way, and I said it again, "I said, get out of this art room with that cake." He left. I wasn't really joking.

Here's the thing about the cake. Sure, if you know me at all, you know that I LOVE cake. I mean, LOVE IT. It's not about the cake, it's about his bozo deciding that I am not good enough for cake – it's flour, water and sugar! What an imbecile. Who does he think he is that he can calculate someone's worth based on his flawed perception of the job they do, or whether or not he likes the shirt they're wearing that day. What a joke! It's not about the cake, it's the pettiness of it all and the fact that NO ONE seems to get it! Imbeciles.

Needless to say, I helped myself to a rather large piece and boy was it good!