Yes, I'm talking about Zima (and Mother's Cookies!).
Long, long ago when my father, brother-in-law James and I all worked together at Packaging Systems International, we would drink 40-ounce Zimas out back in the parking lot on our breaks but we'd brown-bag it because we didn't want the other welders to know we were drinking sissy drinks.
Does that sound trashy?
Can't be helped.
I'm gonna go get me a 40-ounce Zima right now and I'm gonna brown-bag it for old-times sake.
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