I read with some interest the nog experience over at Anonymouse CoWorker. However, my weak Western constitution was assaulted by this:

As it impacted with the sink basin whatever semi-solid/mostly viscous properties it had once retained were immediately broken, and the globnog exploded like a water-ballon filled with cream-colored paint, splattering the bottom and sides of the sink, coating everything with a thin layer of noggy slime. What was most distressing was that the nog on the sides of the sink did not run towards the drain. It was as if the nog had no need to comply with the effects of gravity, so it hung there, suspended by unadulterated vileness and spite.

This whole time I had been standing at the counter still holding the carton, witnessing these events unfold, frozen in place lest I actually come in contact with this filthy mutant that I had a few seconds ago consumed. The last remnants of what even slightly resembled nog slid slowly out of the spout and splattered onto the counter a few inches below. I knew then that drastic measures needed to be taken, or I would never have a drop of tasty nog again.

Distressing indeed. Read the whole thing, laughter will soothe the sting.