Twenty-five bottles of Dew on the wall!

Now that’s an inane song I could enjoy singing for a while. Of course by the time I finished I would have enough of a caffeine buzz to shave a man’s head with my teeth.
Ouch. That line fell as flat as the pop on my wall. Moving along!

That’s right folks. I’ve been outside of the womb for one quarter of a century.
I am now, suddenly, less of a risk to the public. My car insurance is going down, and I can rent cars without extra fees. For your practical application: you shouldn’t feel so nervous about meeting me on the road anymore. One day—or even one hour—makes a load of difference according to the powers that be.

So take one down, pass it around … and recycle the bottle in the proper receptacle, please! I’d like this earth to be around for my next 25 years.

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