Tryptophan sounds like either a date rape drug or a diet pill. It’s neither. It’s the stuff that makes you sleepy after stuffing your gullet with the makings of an all-American Thanksgiving Feast. Personally, I find repelling the barrage of questions from relatives a lot more tiring: “What year are you in school now?” “Are you going to Law school?” “Why don’t you have a girlfriend? What are you, Gay?” “Where are my grandchildren?” “Why did you dye your hair pink?” “How many tattoos is enough for you?” “In Soviet Russia, Leonid Brezhnev himself would shoot us personally for rebelling.”
Yeah, whatever, old people. You’re questions have made me sleepy, and the GHB substitute isn’t helping. Here’s a lullaby of sorts to help you take the edge off the holiday frenzy and recuperate before another round of interrogations. Click Through for Tunes.