Sanpellegrino Aranciata

So I haven't had the best experiences with Sanpellegrino brand beverages. In fact I would like to point out that their Chinotto is in the top 2 worst drinks I have ever consumed and the top 5 worst things I've ever put in my mouth. I was apprehensive about drinking this but I have to admit that I love the thrill of knowing I'm going to be drinking something disgusting. It's hilarious and torturous at the same time. It's my equivalent of sky diving. I live a sad pathetic life.

Strike One. It's not a twist top. Let's make this clear. There is no way that this is worth the trouble of having to find a bottle opener for regardless of it's contents.

The first sniff still doesn't stink as bad as the other one did. Also, I think it's important to note, that the bottle is the colour of citrus fruits so I'm not going to be surprised when it tastes like citrus.

As I suspected this thing is tangy. To the point of being wildly repugnant. This drink doesn't taste like anything except stomach acid. But because I had expected to go blind from drinking it I am not shocked by it's offensiveness. The taste is probably comparable to taking a can of Sprite and then chugging it down and then ripping it in half and then using the sharp aluminum edges to carve racial slurs all over your body and then dousing yourself in rubbing alcohol and then setting yourself on fire. All while not blinking and eating grapefruit.

I don't understand why people would ever want to drink this. My threshold for sour is non existent. Sour is a stupid taste.

Sour does not:
Give you the runs
Make you better at sports
Get you Xbox Achievements
Make your foreskin flower and blossom around your testies
Do anything to make it worth your while

Sour is like the ugly girl at the dance. Sour, you should just go home and kill yourself because no one wants to show you their dick or rub against them titties.

Sour is like going out on a date and then buying dinner and then going to the fucking movies and buying popcorn and then when you go in for the kiss at the end of the night and she kisses back and then you ask if you can come up for coffee and she says no and then you fucking lose it and smash her head against her door knocker and then kick her in the stomach and bush and then the neighbors poke their heads out and then you throw rocks from the garden at them and because your throws are guided by horniness and rage, your rock flies straight and catches an old man in his nose and blood sprays down on you and then you're covered and then you take your shirt off and then you climb the ivy on the house and then you grab that fucking guy by the hair and then you throw him down a few stories and he's crying and he has bone fragments poking out of his shitty old flesh and then the cops come and you resist arrest and then you get maced and clubbed and then you go to jail and then you regret flipping out and a wave of panic comes across you and then it subsides and then all you're left with is hollow, empty depression and then you hang yourself and your cellmate fucks your corpse more than once.

I hate this drink.

Salta Katten

My buddy Greg has been talking up this disgusting licorice candy from Sweden for quite some time. The way he described it to me (accurately) is that it was black licorice covered in salt. I was sold. Black Licorice=awesome. Salt=awesome. I was sold. So when he told me that his girlfriend's friends from Sweden brought some down I lost my shit. I pooed a little.

I was so desperately looking forward to it. I was confident that in spite of sounding gross as fuck I would fall madly in love with them and when they got pregnant from my mighty seed I would see the birth to term. I would be a stern but proud father. I would shed a tear at his graduation and then get in a car wreck and die. They would all say nice things about me and I would be watching from Heaven and I would cry and then my tears would fall to earth and water an apple seed and it would grow into a mighty tree and then it would get struck by lightning and then fall over and fuck your car up. Eating these candies will make me fuck with your insurance.

So today was the big day. He brought them to work and I chowed down.

At first I was in love. It was romantic magic. It was potent in its licoriceness with a bold salt finish. But when the licorice taste wore itself out against the might of my tongue the salt could not be bested. It continued on its quest without his friend. And consequently ruined my life. It's 10 parts salt for 3 parts licorice. It's completely fucking unevenly balanced. What a ruse!

This was like bumping into the most gorgeous, glorious, perfect woman you have ever had the pleasure of laying your eyes on while you're at the grocery store. You fumble nervously for words, anything to keep her from noticing how terrified you are of her beauty. You make awkward jokes to cover up the fact that your heart is beating like a jackhammer. She notices and because she is humble and completely unaware of her effect on men, she blushes and stares at her feet. Your heart swells even more. So many perfect moments needed have lined themselves up for this to come to pass. With sweaty palms and a mouth arid and dry like the desert heat you ask her if you can see her again, on purpose this time. Without missing a beat, she says she'd like that. You take her out to a lavish restaurant in spite of your hours at the shop being cut almost in half. She's worth it, you rationalize to yourself. At the end of your date you work up the nerve to kiss her, she kisses right back, pressing her body hard against yours and the earth stops spinning. The stars shine even brighter than usual as walk home humming love songs to yourself. You see her as often as you can with your conflicting schedules. She calls you every day during her lunch break at the salon. You cherish every moment together, every stolen kiss, every whispered promise, every longing gaze. She spends the night at your place. She smells like Lavender and roses. You take her home to meet your parents and they hit it off right away. Your dad gives you the knowing nod of approval from across the table. You hear your mom whisper surprised niceties about her to your sister as they get the pie and ice cream ready for dessert.

Even though you've only been dating for 5 short weeks you know it's real. You feel a hope that invades your life and makes you feel an unquenchable thirst for her undying love. You can't believe that you were ever able to function without her. Your days are filled with more joy than words can give description to. Your heart is busting at its seams. You see colors more vibrantly than before. You hear hidden notes of glorious music in everything.

Then one day after a romantic dinner the two of you head back to her place where she sits you down and confesses that she has something important she needs to communicate. Apprehensive but trusting you sit down nervously and await her revelation.

She explains that when her mother got pregnant the doctor had informed her that she was having twins. Her mother was elated! Twins! What precious gifts from God. Her mother continued beaming with radiant pride until her next check up. The doctor's mood darkened noticeably during the ultrasound. Her mother knew something was amiss immediately. The doctor, with gentle speech, had the unenviable task of explaining that what had transpired was due to a rare condition known as Dizygotic Osmosis, wherein one twin begins to absorb the other. Her mother was devastated. Understandably, she was wrecked emotionally but she knew it wasn't the child's fault.

At this moment your beautiful girlfriend breaks down in tears informs you that there's more to this story before you have a chance to offer any words of comfort. She turns her head away from you. You think it's out of shame and you feel so sorry she's had to wrestle with a burden she never deserved to bear. You quickly realize it's not shame or grief when she parts the back of her hair, revealing a mangled, half-formed, child's face and marred claw like hand protruding from her skull. You vomit on her sofa and punch her in the "little twin brother". It/he explodes and you get the fuck out of there like your shoes are on fire.

You are heartbroken.

Sangria Senoral

I love soda. I love soda more than most people love getting their dongs rubbed up against. And it was with that in mind that I’ve been on a recent quest to acquire and consume as many different beverages as possible. Today was day one of my quest. It is not off to a great start. While I did pick up some RC Cola (guaranteed awesome) I also picked up some Sangria Senoral.

I can say with absolute confidence that this is the worst drink I have ever consumed. Admittedly I like some vile shit. Black licorice. Coke Blak. Sardines. But this is above and beyond my horribly low standards.

According to the various sources of information on the internet, this thing has a cult following which I guess makes sense when you think about dudes that live in a compound and drink suicide Kool-Aid. People are known to group together and do stupid shit. Exception: LARPers. So I can see people loving this with their entire souls. But those people are witches and need to be burned at the stake.

Sangria Senoral is marketed as a delicious alternative to alcoholic sangria. I don’t drink but I know what sangria is supposed to taste like and this isn’t it. This is poison. POISON.

It tastes like someone took an old garbage bag and then dumped grape juice in it, then pissed in it, then went and filled it up with whatever they found in the dumpster behind the abortion clinic and then blended it and poured into some sketchy bottle and then labeled it with tribal tattoos. This fucking drink sucks ass. I do not suggest you ever drink this.

I haven’t ever been more displeased with a beverage related purchase in my entire life. Imagine every bad thing I’ve ever said in every single review and then multiply it by the number of pubes I have and then ram it in your ass and then set yourself on fire. You would just be scratching the surface of how much this fucking sucks.

I hate this drink with all my heart. It’s the worst.

Fuck.

Real Brew Draft Root Beer

Last night I was sitting in class when Universally Good Dude Vinny Slick texts me. Here is a transcript of our conversation:

Vinny:
















Scotty: Where and how much?

Vinny: At the bio place i go to for 1.15 each.
Vinny: HOLY FUCK. This stuff is delicious. Makes Fanta tastes like piss. Tell that to your blog.

And so I am.

I was at the grocery store tonight buying some tofu dogs for a dinner thing I was heading to (where I had crème brule for the millionth time, more in a later post) when I came upon a bottle of this glorious fucking root beer.

For the record I LOVE root beer. It reminds me of a childhood without sexual abuse from a drunk step father after my sister’s confirmation. I like fucking cheap watered down root beer, caffeine free root beer, traditional root beer. Whatever, if you have root beer I will drink the fuck out of it. It’s awesome.

But this root beer is like I fucking unlocked this part of my tongue that can enjoy it like I never have before. It transcends space and time. It’s like my world shattered and then was replaced with “a complex flavour of licorice root, sarsaparilla, and anise”. Actually I take that back, I wouldn’t say it’s complex so much as it is a jackhammer of Fucking Amazing.

I had no idea root beer could taste like pure vengeance. This drink is like catching your girlfriend in bed with another guy after she said she was visiting a sick aunt in the hospital and then you calmly walk out of the room and come back in with a jerry can and a book of matches from the restaurant you took her to on your first date and then you tie her and her lover to the bed and then you douse them in gasoline and then you set them on fire and then you beat your dick off in furious (and justifiable) anger. You don’t wipe up. You let it crackle and burn with their sins and flesh.

Fuck this drink makes me want to murder people. I don’t even understand what it tastes like except for black licorice and smashing a bag full of puppies in with a sledgehammer. If pirates could somehow fuck (and then make babies with) I Spit on Your Grave this drink is what the outcome would be like.

It’s invading my life! Fuck this, I’m going out to murder everyone I see.

AAAAHHHH!!!! Fuck this drink is awesome!

Black Licorice

I don't know many people who don't have an opinion on black licorice one way or another. Black licorice is EXACTLY like abortions in that regard. They're also both really syrupy and leave your hands coated with a delicious film.

I am a proud lover of black licorice. It tastes like spices and someone farting in the bathwater. I know I tend to review snacks that I love but then provide the absolute worst descriptions but really, I'm into some pretty gross snacks. I wholeheartedly recognize that black licorice is one of those snacks.

There's really nothing redeeming about it. Unlike red licorice, it's slimy to the touch. It smells bad. It tastes like medicine and diarrhea cramps. It's always stale. It stains your tongue. No woman will want your mouth near her chesticles (aka sweater beef) afterward. This is basically vagina repellent. But I still love it. I'm a classic self-loather. I only eat shit that punishes me. Fuck I hate my life. I'm a complete mess. This snack is 100% proof of that.

Everything about this treat screams "This is Grandma's medicine, do not put it in your mouth!" but if herpes has taught me anything it's that sometimes the consequence for putting shit in your mouth isn't so bad. A little itching. A little puss. Nothing an icepack can't fix.

Hey! I have mouth herpes. Don't let me near your smelly cooter!

Stewart's Ginger Beer

Ladies and gentlemen, the mighty throne of Spicy Ginger has just been usurped. Golden Cockerel is no longer the most potent of ginger drinks. Sometime last week I was at the supermarket buying the usual bullshit when I came across a bottle of Stewart's Ginger Beer. I was like this will be good or whatever because all of their shit is tasty but I did not expect to get my taste buds mouth raped by stranger. This is the spiciest mother I have ever consumed. It burned like fuck and left my girlfriend in tears (no joke).

I present to you the play by play:

I sit in my car and adjust my sweatpants.
My balls are stuck my leg.
I unstick them and feel relieved.
I pull the bottle out of the bag.
Fuck it's not a twist top.
Wait yes it is.
I open it.
My nose catches fire and I vomit on myself.
The pungent aroma of spices from the Orient invades the car.
I get a boner and rip my jogging pants.
I take a sip and my face melts off my skull.
My skeleton catches fire.
I bend down with my erect dong poking out of my ripped jogging pants.
I collect my face and slap it back on.
I take another sip.
My face melts again.
The hot spicy magma coats my insides and burns my loins.
My skin bubbles like newts in a cauldron.
I die and come back to life as a turtle.
I float down into the sewer and accidentally land in a puddle of neon green mutagen.
My body transforms.
My tiny turtle arms grow exponentially.
I am huge.
I love pizza and live with a rat.
I also like to ride my skateboard.
I only go out to the surface in a trench coat and over sized hat and somehow people don't realize that I am not human.
I meet a man who coats his body in purple robes and silver armor.
He says that my rat friend scratched his face and now he has to wear a mask.
We dance to Vanilla Ice and then I throw him off a building into a garbage truck.
My friend Casey Jones crushes his bones and then tongue fucks a reporter.

You seriously need to drink this.

It's spicy as fuck.

Peche Gourmet Shoyo Almonds

The lobby of my building (at work) is the fucking mecca of snacks. They have everything: Cool Ranch Doritos, Ritter Sport, Zero Bars (refrigerated), and a bunch of other completely fucking freaked out euro chocolate bars with wacky shit like orange peel and zebra musk. They also carry the complete line of Peche Gourmet; a French Canadian company that produces generic candy (cherry blaster ripoffs, peach gummies...) and then packages them in the most boring bags imaginable. The only thing cool about the packaging is that they have this logo of a rotund child-devil licking his chops after feasting on the abortions of the white and wealthy. ***Please note the logo in the picture is of their old logo where the devil was chasing interacial couples off of public transit. They changed the logo because of societal pressures.*** This testament to French Canadian snacking also sells a delicious assortment of nuts. Now I've been know to chomp on some goddamn legumes every once in a while and today is no exception. I hooked up (as I do at least weekly) a delightful bag of Shoyo Almonds.

Now I know you're thinking "What the fuck is Shoyo?". The answer may surprise you. It basically stems from an old Japanese tradition where on Halloween, Demons from Azkata-Zu (the underworld) come to feast on the virginity of 10-14 year old girls. The demons (known as Onataro) steal a piece of the girls' virginity (called Domodonu) and take it back to Azkata-Zu to feed the horned beasts that pull the plows and harvest the crops. This causes the young girls to bleed from their vaginas. In short, the demons are what give Japanese girls their first periods. What Shoyo does is it places a force field over the girls' lady parts and keeps the Demons from giving them their fucking mensies.

It's either that or it might be raw soy.

So whatever, these almonds are fucking salty without having any salt on them. I think they bake the shoyo into them or use some kind of Asian voodoos to infuse that shit into my almonds because I can't realistically figure out any other way it could be accomplished.

These things are fucking yummy and will make women think I'm healthy and pull back my foreskin when I'm washing my ding dong.

I don't think I can recommend them because they're not meat, sugar, or synthetic in any way. These are just barely a snack. I don't even think if you were on a diet they would count as food just like cheating on your girlfriend doesn't count if it's with a dude or your eyes are closed.

If you're into almonds then buy these, they're like almonds times awesome. But if you're not then you can skip it. Actually don't, they're filled with Asian magics that will make you a lot better at math.

Japanese Magicks +1
Math +34
Snack +/- 0