1 Tequila, 2 Teq ... Oh, Forget It.

Well, there's clearly no where else to go.

This is it, I have no more to give, my muse has drowned herself in the toilet, and I've resorted to encouraging bizarre and gratuitous wrestling matches among the lunatic fringe. I can't even develop a good old-fashioned drinking problem, I just don't have the necessary drive. You have to spend all that time coming up with excuses and lame-ass apologies, find places to hide your booze, devote so much time denying and keeping the truth from everyone, file for unemployment after punching your boss in the throat for taking your red Swingline ... It's such a bother, and I'd much rather take a nap.

So, since I obviously can't sink any lower, here's a picture of a really, really pissed off beaver.