CORRECTION

It was NOT Tofurky Day, as I previously indicated below. It was To-Quorn Day or Quornkey Day or whatever. Actually not an un-tasty fake meat, although the facts from this Slate article I read months before were still sort of hazily floating around in my head as I ate it, making me feel slightly on edge throughout the dinner. Still on the fence about it.

Anyway, just wanted to be sure that all three Readers had a completely accurate understanding of what my Thanksgiving entailed. The cornbread pudding KILLED.

Ten bucks says this is the office close-talker...

...and that he's always slinking into people's cubes to give unsolicited shoulder rubs.

From a cover letter (emphasis added for extra cringing power):

"My qualities I am sure would fit into any job description and will also help others to be motivated and bring a loving, positive atmoshere into any enveroment rather it be slow or fast paced."

And I'm just not even going to bother anymore with my whole spell-check/grammar-check campaign. I give up. You hear me? You've broken me, Candidate, you've broken my will to nitpick. I hope you're happy.