Ouch

I made a couple of discoveries Saturday morning.  First, as I gagged on a piece of granola bar because I had neither sufficient saliva to swallow nor a strong enough stomach to receive solid food, I re-re-re-re-re-re-re-affirmed my theory that three hours of sleep is not enough to counteract the effects of a full night's worth of gaming, whiskey, and cheap beer.  Secondly, I have previously accused my children for depriving me of my beauty sleep and have therefore blamed my offspring for creating my mental and physical retardations.  Certainly this is true from time to time.  But based on the above first revelation coupled with the surprising frequency my friends and coworkers admire my lack of motor skills, I realize my kids cannot take full blame.  So at last, I would like to place blame where it truly belongs.  Feel free to choose one or more of the following.