Category: Uncategorized

I think it was you who clued me into the vibrant Surge community? Right? I think? And how they were sad that Surge is gone from all our lives? How their day-to-day just wasn’t quite as xtreme as it used to be? And that now they’re looking to Vault, the new greenish Coke product, as Surge’s second coming? And then we both tried some Vault and immediately forgot about it, so much so that we couldn’t even do a little writeup here?

Point being I got another bottle to refresh my memory and the reviews are in: Basically Foul. I was all set to enjoy it with my lunch today and it kind of put a damper on the whole affair. I had to really gird myself each time I took a sip. The real problem is we already have Mountain Dew, and Mountain Dew got its hooks in me at an early age, before I knew any better. (See also: Bosom Buddies, the Leppard.) So even though its flavor could also be fairly described as ureteric, I’m used to it and enjoy its hi-caff, lo-carb[onation], smooth-drinkin ways.

I mean I understand that Coke wants to get a piece of the fertile Dew market, but this knockoff just makes me want to go back to the original. Vault is a little more bitter than Mountain Dew, a little more orange-y, and it makes my heart palpitate alarmingly. Seriously, I’ve got chest discomfort with lightheadedness, sweating, nausea, and/or shortness of breath. Pain is spreading to the shoulders, neck, or arms. The pain is mild to intense.

Mis-tah F! Where do you stand on pomegranates. I’m wondering. I remember some children-of-hippies getting one in their lunchboxes back at my hippie elementary school. They’d pick out the little seeds and eat them and to someone like me, who was a straight-shooting, missionary-style Capri Sun–drinker, it all seemed pretty exotic. And creepy. And a little unamerican. Not to mention the whole thing about Hades getting Persephone to eat a handful of pomegranate seeds and QED that’s why we have winter every year. So thanks tons for that. There’s just this wretched aura of menace around this so-called fruit.

Of course then I learn the terrible truth about grenadine, and then Pom Wonderful comes out, and now everyone’s got to get on this pomegranate drink bandwagon because of the polyphenols and the antioxidants and the jibba jabba. And I’m all: Let’s talk flavor. You know me. You know how I live. And I tried that Pom drink a while back and it tasted like being molested.

So I’m going to give this Odwalla version a spin. Odwalla and I go way back to the dotcom boom days where we all got as much of it as we could store in our taut, tawny bellies. They’re late to the pomegranate game but now have a few versions out. I thought I picked up the pure, straight-up, no-bull just-pomegranate variety but even this one is “enhanced with wild berry extract” in order to cut the flavor. And the starburst on the label says “GREAT TASTE!” because they know that we know that pomegranate juice has serious Issues.

Anyway let’s knock back some of this “PomaGrand.” Hm. It took like three sips before it even registered. It’s almost like it’s all aftertaste. I’m all: Did I just drink something? And then I notice this sort of bitter, grape juice-y kind of vibe floating around in my sinuses. And I’m even thirstier than when I started. I feel like something’s been smuggled into my system without my say-so. Where are — where the hell are my oxidants going? MY OXIDANTS. WHAT IS YOUR DEAL PLEASE DO NOT LEAVE I NEED YOU–

I don’t want to finish this. I guess if you bought into the whole pomegranate brainwashing thing this is a good way to get it into your body but I’m done. F U HADES.

Alright. You finish adding all those entries from years ago that make me cringe and wish I was never born. I take it upon myself to trudge onward and add new content.I was pretty jazzed to hear about Coke Blak. Coke, of course, a traditional favorite, as is coffee, so I was curious to see what would happen when they got together and tried to make a baby. I, of all people, should have known from experience what nonsense babies get into.

Coke Blak is suprisingly gross. After the first sip, my brain went: “Really? That?” It suffers from the same problem that afflicts all the big [brand-name cola + vanilla/cherry/whatever] sodas: the additives are too chemical-y, too fakey. The coffee flavoring waters down the bite of the cola, without blending at all. Every taste the whole way through felt like the worst cup of coffee ever was just lying on top of the cola, totally lazy, unwilling to do any heavy lifting.
It’s just as well, because as you know I am terrifed of high fructose corn syrup, and HFCS is actually listed as the 2nd ingredient on Coke Blak. They might as well have called this “Coke Poisn.”

I’m sorry that I suck so much. You think I like being this way? Come on, my brotha. You think I like being the guy who totally gushes over a soda born in an air-conditioned conference room and sold exclusively at Taco Bell? It officially does not get any lamer. I want to be the guy who champions those few beverages that set out on their own, daring to forge new marketplaces, whose very roots are steeped in cultures whose traditions go back thousands of years.

Kombucha Wonder Drink is such a beverage. It’s a combination of organic tea and kombucha culture, which imparts a fizzy, carbonated texture. Kombucha is actually a mushroom, but they don’t tell you that anywhere on the bottle. They do say that kombucha is said to have mystical healing qualities, but they’re vague on the specifics there, too.

I tried all three flavors: Himalayan blend, Oriental Blend, and Asian Pear Ginger Blend. I liked Oriental the best. The flavor is based on oolong tea, which was a great deal smoother than the green tea of the Himalayan. As far as the pear/ginger blend goes, the pear was so subtle that it got lost in the mix, and the ginger added a slight peppery aftertaste that was only interesting the way that science is interesting, which is to say: one paragraph’s worth of interesting, but nothing more.

One aside I need to make is that the smell of the tea and the throat-tickling tingliness of the kombucha culture together brought back long-buried memories of a strange ritual from my youth. In high school my friend Steve and I had this thing we did to pass the lazy afternoons. We would take a tub of dry Lipton ice tea mix, make sure it was sealed tightly, shake it up really good so that it got all smoky, then lift up the edge of the lid and inhaled deeply. This left us coughing and sputtering with a dirt cloud of tea pasted into our mouths. It was totally fun. Look, our parents locked their liquor cabinets and it sucks being a teenager in suburbia, so I make no excuses.

Kombucha is not like any other drink I’ve had, so there’s that. It’s a very interesting combination of tea and carbonation, and I think it’s original enough that everyone should check it out at least once. But do I love it, and will I ever drink it again? Will I champion it? No, probably not, and no way, and that touches on some really deep stuff about why I’m so obsessed with beverages, and why it’s so important to me to always be trying out new products. I think I’m looking for that One True Beverage. I’m looking for what I call “returnability.” That one beverage that I can define my life around. The drink that I always have in the fridge and never get bored of. If someone ever asks me what my favorite beverage is, I want to be able to answer definitively, without hesitation: “Sit down and I will fucking tell you some serious shit about my favorite beverage.”

But I can’t do that right now; I don’t have an answer. I like a handful of drinks pretty good, a plethora just OK, and a bunch not so much. Until that day when my journey comes to its delicious end, I will continue to suckle on the teat of hope.

Sunkist seriously why you gotta be that way. Why you gotta be there in the office vending machine (the button tantalizing mislabeled as “Fanta”) offering up your wanton sweetness to any man with fitty cents. Why must you ramble, Sunkist. Why do you do that when you know the thing we have right here, just me and you, is real. I need your chemical orange delight, Sunkist. It is mine alone. Why exactly must you play me like this, Sunkist.

Mountain Dew is some crazy motherfuckers. Why would you create a ridiculously good soda and then basically hide it from the general public? They are really making a concerted effort towards market saturation these days, to mixed results. Mountain LiveWire is pretty terrible, I feel. Code Red is just OK. But Mountain Dew Baja Blast is freaking amazing and has shot to the top of my favorite sodas list. So why is their best flavor only available at Taco Bell? That is some wacked-out shit that I cannot wrap my brain around at the moment. I would be buying this stuff by the gallon if it was available at the local 5 and 10. But who’s going to trip over themselves in a mad dash to Taco Bell just to try it? The whole thing just don’t make no sense.

The party line, flavor-wise, is that this is Mountain Dew with a bit of a tropical lime twist. Which I guess I get, aside from my uncertainty about what makes a lime tropical. But the beverage itself is a lovely fluorescent blue, and it totally fills the Pepsi Blue-shaped hole in my heart. I wish I could try them side by side to compare, but since all you punks failed to get my back on the Pepsi Blue tip, it’s no longer available. Thanks for that. But whatever, it’s fine, since Baja Blast is here now. Although wait, Mountain Dew is owned by Pepsi, so what are the chances that this is all just a rebranding strategy? Oh my goodness I am totally smart. That’s why it reminds me so much of Pepsi Blue, that‘s exactly what it is. Do you feel the magic of the moment we are sharing right now or what. I knew that Pepsi Blue and I were destined to be together and even 100 million idiots voting with their wallets for Diet Cherry Pepsi Vanilla with Lemon (*rolls eyes*) could not keep us apart.

Except the problem is that I’m still left feeling totally skeevy driving through the Taco Bell a few times a week, just to get a large soda. That’s some junkie-level shit right there. You can’t spend that much time at Taco Bell each week and still manage to meet your own stare in the mirror. You can’t. I am telling you I been there, and you can’t. I’m willing to admit that the just-out-of-reach-ness of Baja Blast informs the appeal and increases what we in the industry call “cravitude,” but I can’t believe for a second that that was anything but an unforeseen by-product of the marketing plan. Come on. Have you ever known marketing executives to be anything but lazy? Not if you’re honest, and I want you to be honest. I mean they were too lazy to invent a new flavor, as we established above.

A good day for me is one where I write two paragraphs and am in bed before 10 PM. My idea of a good meal is one that doesn’t cause too much gastrointestinal distress. So how come Cherry Vanilla Dr Pepper failed to meet even my sub-humanly low expectations?

Maybe I thought the Dr Pepper people were a cut above, since Red Fusion is still for me one of the most delightful new brands in recent years. I thought for sure they would parlay and capitalize, but no.

Excitement was high when I saw this new brand at the supermarket. I scored two and put them in the fridge for like a week, because I was waiting for The Perfect Time When I Was In The Perfect Mood To Appreciate Them. And then at some point the planets did their aligning thing and I was like “Now is the time” and went at it.
The smell was nice, it was like…hmmm what are the words… a combination of Dr Pepper and cherry and vanilla. And I am a dude who likes truth in advertising so that was AOK. But taste-wise, not so much. Really it tastes almost exactly like regular Dr Pepper. There’s maybe a hint of cherry in there. I’m not convinced I’d be able to tell the difference blindfolded. Why must I pin all my hopes and dreams on products which never do anything but disappoint me. I didn’t even feel like finishing the first bottle. I know, me!!!

Maybe my taste buds have just become deadened, and the unextreme, non-blastin’ flavor of Cherry Vanilla Dr Pepper is unable to find burstability purchase within in my mouth hole. But really I blame the corporate marketeers, who yet again appeal to no one in their attempt to appeal to everyone.

My hope is that some good will come of my disappointment, in the form of my negative review causing severe layoffs in the New Flavor Dreamers department at The Dr Pepper Corporation of America.

I don’t know. It sounded really good to me when I read about it on the internet. Was that my first clue? I do not know. It doesn’t matter. But maybe the impression it left on my mind is the lesson to consider. The inviting wholesomeness of cola, paired with the soul-warming festiveness of holiday spices. A soda that feels like home, really. How could it be anything less?

I see now that I was imagining the acidic bark of a carbonated hot mulled cider. As if. Why do I keep thinking things are going to be as I hope or plan? Why did God curse me with such a fetid imagination? Is fetid the word I’m looking for, who even knows. That’s how lost I am tonight.

Still and all, I am a person whose hopes easily rise, and so when we stopped at the Kum ‘n Go in Havana Illinois and I espied a row of Holiday Spice Pepsis in the cooler, it was like waking up one morning to find that Santa had stopped by a month early. Back in the car I did that thing where you sniff the heady aroma of the beverage before you sip it. I see people do it on TV all the time. I took a few moments trying to pick apart the complicated bouquet. Cinnamon? Clove?

Unfortunately that was all the holiday spices I could name off the top of my head, so I asked Rosalie for her input. She busted out nutmeg, and something called allspice, which seems like a cop-out. She added: “Please God let it not be nutmeg in a cola.” Anyways it probably was; the taste was not as good as the smell. It was like a Pepsi that someone dumped pepper into, maybe. Not really, but I don’t feel like trying any harder than that to describe it. It wasn’t good, OK?
But check it, I guess therein lies the genius, if you peep the timeline:

• High initial enthusiasm about a particular item.
• Anticipation skyrockets upon receipt of said item.
• Total anticlimax and letdown after having opened and experienced said item.

Just like Christmas.

Later that night my brother had open heart surgery and I took this picture of the label before recycling the bottle. He’s still in critical condition. Happy holidays.

Josh, have I told you what my new favorite soda is? Oh man. It’s totally Smirnoff Triple Black Ice. Shit is for real.

It’s starring in a movie called What If Sprite Wasn’t So Boring That You Wanted To Die. All the kids are going to be drinking this stuff, is my prediction. So sweet. So zesty. So everything you never knew was lacking in a clear soda.

Seriously it’s so good.

Apparently it has alcohol in it.

Best soda ever.

Man, I am on the fence about this whole Sprite Remix thing, and I need you to pull me one way or t’other. Because my short attention span is like whoa, so on the one hand, if Sprite wants to come out with a new “FLAVOR REMIX” [emphasis added] every summer, then like, I will be standing by the display case, dollars in hand.
But on the other hand, the downside, if you will, the UNSEEN EVIL BY-PRODUCT OF SAID ACTIVITIES [emphasis not added] is that they won’t invest a lot of money to ensure that the product actually tastes good. Because who cares if it sucks, the kids will have forgotten about it by next summer. WON’T YOU, YOU FUCKING STUPID ASS KIDS?

And that right there is some jive-ass logic that I simply cannot get behind. Because then I’m all, well why even care about anything? And you know how my meds have been weird lately and I’m having a really hard time even getting out of bed each afternoon, and if Corporate America Incorporated is throwing in the towel and being like “Fuck it dude,” then what hope is there for an un-eager young not-go-getter like myself?

So what I’m saying is that Sprite Remix (DJ MegaBerry mix) is certainly not going to rouse me from my depression. Sure, it’s the natural goodness you’ve come to expect from Sprite, mixed with the dazzling tartness of nature’s berries, but it’s like they used the berries from the bottom of the bush, the ones that get pissed and trod on by every low-lying ground mammal that comes down the pike.

Clearly Canadian was killing it with the clear berry soda flava over 14 years ago, man. That shit is still so good. How hard is it for the Sprite people to even try? I mean they had the roadmap, they just chose not to follow it. Where they got the idea that Sprite Berry Remix is even remotely good is beyond me. Who are the tongueless fucks taste-testing this beverage? I need to get on that payroll. I wouldn’t even have to get out of bed for that job, just keep a fridge nearby stocked with all the test samples? Man that would be sweet. Free soda and handjobs all day long. Or whatever. I’m just thinking out loud here.