Tonight was the night when I must plow through the fruit box of my receipts and financial documents from 2011. I need to get them in order so I can report to my government all my personal, intimate details--even things I wouldn’t ever tell my best friend. The government will, in reply, tell me how much of my stuff I must now give to them.
I have to admit, I’d rather do this task with a beer than without. Now if I can just figure out how to get a beer at the dentist office next time I have a cavity filled.
Pastime has a fruity start and then, with a jolt to the senses, shifts to a hoppy finish.
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