It almost slipped by again this year. I guess Russell Jenkins knew, though. How do I know? Well, he helped himself to a celebratory platter of poutine (maybe he was trying to do me a favor) while I wasn’t looking yesterday. When I walked back into the room and caught him, he just stood there, caught, wagging his tail and licking his chops. He was so pleased with himself, what could I do? I mean, if I were a little guy with crooked legs, jacked up teeth and one eyeball who lived with a giant who, every once in a while threw a rope around my neck, dragged me around the neighborhood, and fed me dry dog food, if I got the chance to eat the giant’s delicious hot gravy covered potatoes that ALSO HAD CHEESE ON THEM, I would full on do it! Good on you, Russell Jenkins. I love you like the dickens.