International Mystery: Ooooh...my head...

What the--

Whuh--

Where am I? What happened--Where is this place...

Head throbbing--temples pounding--it's like a dozen dropouts from OverEaters Anonymous are River-dancing on my head...

Double-vision, but eyes beginning to clear now... Home. I'm...home.

Somehow. But how did I get here? Last thing I remember--what was the last thing I can remember before I blacked out?

I'd just filed that story about how none of the Bachmann campaign staff was volunteering to serve in Iraq or Afghanistan; how they were a bunch of chickenhawks running for Congress--then--a sharp pain in the back of the head--then nothingness...oblivion...

Got to work this out...got to figure out what happened after I blacked out... Got...to...figure...it...out...