WHENEVER it seems like we have reached peak outrage, there comes a flurry of new contenders for the title of Chief Petty Officer Petty McPettyface.

This week that honour goes to those kicking up a fuss about a clearly light-hearted guide for new employees published by the recruitment agency Reed.

The tongue-in-cheek advice – titled Five Ways To Impress On Your First Day – included gems such as "don't be yourself", "laugh at everything" and "find the most popular person in the office, then follow them around".

Reed has since removed the advice from its website after social media was flooded with angry responses from people pointing out that some of the humorous suggestions would get people sacked on the spot. Or at least carted off to HR for a stern dressing-down.

It's official: large swathes of the country have lost their sense of humour. I find it difficult to believe that anyone reading the guide would take it at face value.

Sample text: "OK, so we're sure you're a very nice person. And no doubt you have many endearing qualities that we'd probably like if we got to know you. The point is, your colleagues will have plenty of time to get to know you, so don't try too hard."

Another section read, "Other ways to impress: Take notes, make drinks, invent a catchphrase, add everyone you meet on Facebook".

Rather than simply have a chuckle – or not – and then move on, it prompted a heated Twitterstorm. The trouble is this: people seem to want to be offended.

Increasingly, the knee-jerk reaction appears to be reaching for the virtual pitchforks and torches, while roaming the internet in search of the next person to be pilloried.

Being angry has become a national pastime. It's ugly and exhausting and tedious.

There's plenty of things to get angry about – the Brexit debacle, spiralling drug deaths, pathetic climate change deniers who can't handle the words of Greta Thunberg – but the amusing, albeit slightly toe-curlingly naff, Reed guide is not one of them.

READ MORE: Susan Swarbrick: Wading into the quagmire of online etiquette is a thankless task

We should be embracing the lighter moments, ever more fleeting as they may be, and recognise them for being just that: silly and fun.

Chocolate barred

NOW that summer has drawn to a close, it's time for me and fellow columnist Rab McNeil to depart the Nessie Sightings Bureau for another year.

Thankfully, I have a new task: Confectionery Watch. The run-up to the festive season – which seems to begin in July and crank into high gear from late September – sees a slew of new concoctions appearing on supermarket shelves.

Those who enjoy viewing the world through sepia-toned specs will be delighted that, after almost 30 years, Snickers is reverting to the name of Marathon. The nut-packed chocolate bar has resumed its erstwhile moniker in Morrisons – albeit only for three months.

How quaint you might think. Well, already there's been shenanigans with Morrisons having to limit how many each customer can buy after someone spent £101 to snap up 404 Marathon bars. A very sweet tooth or stockpiling for the next 30 years? Either way, this is why we can't have nice things.

In other Confectionery Watch news, Cadbury's has launched a limited-edition Orange Twirl. It should be noted this is not an homage to certain sectarian factions (I won't even attempt a joke here) nor the perma-tan of President Donald Trump (they would have called that Wizened Apricot).

Rounding off this week's update, is an offering aimed at the more-money-than-sense fraternity: Nestle has unveiled a "luxury" KitKat with six dark chocolate-coated wafer fingers wrapped in edible gold leaf, costing £25.

Talk about a far cry from its roots: when the KitKat launched in 1935, the tagline was "a chocolate bar that a man could take to work in his pack-up [lunch]".

Break the bank, have a KitKat doesn't manage quite the same ring.

Oh, deer

JANET Street-Porter has been waxing lyrical about her love of roadkill again. The revelation that she is partial to dining on run over venison led to a pearl-clutching moment on Loose Women last week.

Street-Porter had previously revealed her penchant in a newspaper column in June. "I'm a convert to roadkill cuisine," she wrote. "And I can't wait to try the deer I found on the A1."

She also discussed eating roadkill rabbit with chef Gino D'Acampo two years ago, which suggests Street-Porter's fellow presenters either weren't listening, have short memories or her fondness of car-trundled animal flesh is now a perennial theme.

READ MORE: Susan Swarbrick: Wading into the quagmire of online etiquette is a thankless task

Although it's unlike Street-Porter to miss a trick. Given her impressive Celebrity MasterChef stint in 2013, I'm surprised that she hasn't rustled up a cookery book with tasty roadkill recipes such as pheasant fajitas, fox stroganoff and weasel Wellington.

If we end up with a no-deal Brexit, copies will be flying off the shelves.