According to them, I ‘forgot’ to tell them today was my birthday. It seems they do some sort of big lunch to-do for each person in the office.
[In my defense, I mentioned it to them last week. Just got really busy (crisis-level higher than normal) around here in the last few days, so it must have slipped their minds.]
No cake for me, but we’ll be doing homemade Sloppy Joes for Monday’s lunch when I come back. Yum.
screech-owl
Aires/water Rabbit (you do the math)
Don’t fret. My chicken-orkers are mad at me.
I’m afraid I might be next on the list, as I have to write a story on mule-orkers next week.
Just great. My cow-orkers are mad at me.
Stupid orkin’ cows. Who do they think they are?
By coincidence, my birthday and my personal holiday fall on the same date. Since my personal holiday is, well, a holiday, I never work that day. But my cow-orkers usually take me to lunch later in the week anyway.
It sounds like they have Mad Cow-orker Disease.
Remind them that fat, drunk and orkin’ cows is no way to go through life.
Dean
Happy Birthday!
Maybe you can get mooooooooved to a different department, then you could milk your cow-orkers for another birthday party.
Orkers of the world unite! Fight against the repression! MOOOOOOO!
Happy birthday, Screec-howl!
I’m a sheep-orker, myself. 
Yeah, you and Scylla …
Woohoo! I get to use one of my favorite SDMB quotes
How do you expect me to get any ork done around here, what with all the mooing!?!
Happy Birthday, MJ, let’s hope Mud will leave you alone tonight…and at least you have some cows to ork, I am here by myself this week.
Keith
All of mine are co-irkers, I always thought sloppy joes were punishment for tax evasion in some places.
I’m assuming then none of you read Scott Adams or Dilbert?
Your purile attempts at mockery fall flat. Begone with you. (I got it, screech.)
Esprix
I was reading this, and the further down the thread I got, the more amazed I became that none seemed to recognize the DNRC phrase for annoying co-worker: Cow-Orker (best said with a phoney Cockney accent).
Thanks, 'Spree!
Happy birthday, screech!
/s/
DNRC’s First High Secretary of Lost Causes, and Stater of the Obvious
Now, see , the thing to do is tell your cow-orkers that it’s your birthday, but that you don’t celebrate it.
That gets you guaranteed birthday-taken-out-to lunch and cocktails.
(False_God–, whose birthday was Tuesday, and whose parents sent him a $40 cheescake, apparently without asking if he likes or would eat cheesecake. At least the cow-orkers liked it.)