Qan you imagine a wurld widdout beer? Ever'thing ewe gnoe wood be diff'ernt. Phish mite phly, dawgs mite uze power touls, and phryday nites mite be spent bilding treez out of leftover sour qreem and cheaze. And then dere'd be speling ishyous. Sim, sip, gulp, chug... aaah! Once again all is right with the world. Maybe we're not so stoopid after all.