More Demonstrable Proof

Bane of My Existence:

Total closeted literature-lover.

Yesterday, while trying to think up some historical figure's name, he blurted out "O'Henry!" and then was like, "Oh wait, no. He was just a writer."

WTF.

O'Henry--Gift of the Magi and all that.

I had to fricking google the man, since I wasn't even sure he was definitely a writer and if so, what precisely he'd written.

Seriously, he totally must sit around hunched under his covers at night with a flashlight and a good book. I'm telling you.