On The Free Beer & Hot Wings Morning Show they are talking about some gross yogurt, where the special or secret ingredient was gathered with a wooden spoon from a ladies, lady parts. I don't know if I want to try that yogurt, but my favorite flavor is Blue Berry. Gross or not, some of us are guilty of gross secret ingredients and some of us are victims of other peoples secret ingredients.

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When I was in High school I had conducted a social experiment. I had baked a cake, then microwaved Tootsie Rolls, to make them soft enough so that I could alter the shape of the Tootsie Rolls to look like poop.

The idea was that I would stick the Tootsie Rolls into the cake and wait in the Art Wing hall way, with a big sign that said "We took a dump in it." Just to see if any of my fellow students would question the ingredients of the free cake.

I ran into two problems that I did not anticipate.

Problem 1: There was no white frosting available. Only chocolate. I wanted that fake poop to stick out, so that everyone could see it.

Problem 2: My Mom. Apparently my mother is the authority on fake poo cake. She insisted that if I added crumpled Graham Crackers to the frosting that it would look better. I did not want it to look good. "I want people to look at this cake and think that I dropped my pants and took a big dump in it." I said.

" It will! If you just crumple up some Graham Cracker, like this!" She said as her suggestion turned into action.

"What are you doing?! Don't put Graham Cracker in my poop cake! Have you ever seen Graham Cracker in poop!? Stop putting Graham Cracker in my poop cake!"

It was not the strangest conversation my Mother and I had ever had in her kitchen. The cake was made, it looked like liquid poop with some logs sticking out. Then I stuck a Babe Ruth bar in it for good measure.

The next day, I waited in the Art Wing with my Poop Cake and a sign that read "We took a dump in it." I waited until after most of the students had just had lunch, figuring that they would want some dessert.

As I had predicted, the cake was consumed by over a dozen of my fellow students. Only one questioned the contents of the cake, not because of the sign, but because she knew I had made the cake.

Someone took the entire Babe Ruth and later I would get detention for giving that person the nickname "Turd Burglar."

Some of us have added secret ingredients and some of us have been victims. What are you? and what is your story?