Inveterate partygoers try not to think about the morning after. For it is then they will realize that telling off the boss, such exhilarating fun the night before, may have consequences later that day. Or they will wake up to regret grabbing the microphone from the singer in the rented band and regaling the room with a medley of Oh Danny Boy and When Irish Eyes Are Smiling. And, oh, the lampshade on the head, and, ah, the hand on the backside of a stranger. Why? And what now?
Millions of Minnesotans awoke with such queasiness last Wednesday. Sure, the gubernatorial...
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