If somebody is looking for a statistics project to undertake, I’d love to know what happens to the nation’s productivity on the day after Hallowe’en. Between those hopped up on Tootsie Rolls from the bowl in the kitchen, and those coming down from that handful of mini-Snickers they ate forty minutes ago, it’s a miracle that anyone gets anything done at all. Oog.

On a related note, my insulin rage and I would just like to say that if we find the lousy scum-sucker who cherry-picked all the Reese’s cups out of that bowl in the kitchen, we’ll flay him alive. We’re appalled, I tell you.

(Of course, however bad today may be, the next day or two may be crazier. Get out there and vote, then batten down the hatches.)