There comes a time in every man’s life when he has to wake up to a cold hard truth that can no longer be ignored. For some men, that means reconciling their desire to wear a leather vest and no shirt with their loveless heterosexual marriage. As for me, (relax) I must face up to the fact that I am a Red Bull enthusiast. Who knew! Me, an energy drink guy! I don’t even own a pair of cargo pants. My day-to-day activities are neither extreme nor to the maxx, and are rarely performed with anything even approaching aplomb or élan.
And yet, if you look at my beverage statistics, it turns out I drink Red Bull more often than any other beverage besides water. Straight up, not even joking, I am just as taken aback by all of this as you are. But I am a travelling man, and I pretty much swear by Red Bull for my long car trips. I probably went through 10 cans in the last two weeks alone, what with the hither and yon.
What I like about it:
- The taste isn’t completely terrible.
- No HFCS.
- Doesn’t make me all spazz out with a heart attack.
- Has a more complicated chemical formula than coffee (read: inspires bathroom visits with less frequency).
Sorry to describe the drink in terms of what it isn’t. I didn’t invent the rules of the English language; I just wield it like a cat o’ nine tails against the vinyl-clad ass of your mind.