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.

Hapi Hot Wasabi Peas

There’s a rumor going around that I like to eat foods that challenge the tongue and bowels. This rumor would in fact be quite accurate. Eating foods that make my ass bleed and heave with the devil’s milk (aka what my mom calls the galloping trots, aka the runs, aka the green apple splatties, aka diarrhea) is a huge badge of honor except instead of it being worn around my neck with pride, it’s making it impossible for me to sit without it feeling like I’ve just been cast in a homo-erotic prison rape film.

It’s with that in mind that I signed up to try Hapi Hot Wasabi Peas.

My girfriend’s parents bought this giant coffee tin of pain and couldn’t stomach more than a handful each so they pawned it off to me. I can understand why. This is basically the most ridiculous snack that has ever existed. There’s nothing good about them. It tastes like someone plugged your nose with horseradish and then made you gargle some dijon mustard and then dropped a cinderblock on your face from 7 stories up. And then rammed handfuls of hot peppers into your face and ass.























Each pea is coated with an unhealthy amount of wasabi; some are so coated it’s as if the pea ceases to exist, the wasabi has swallowed it whole like a snake eating a baby sheep. Every single bite of this is bad news. It burns. It stings. It hurts. It chafes my innards. I cringe before every bite. I am literally afraid before I pop a handful in my mouth.

And yet I’m completely compelled to keep eating them. I can’t just have a handful. I need to eat them until the fear of getting an ulcer overrides my willingness to eat poison. It’s basically green crystal meth and I’m just a junkie. I know I should not be participating in this. My lips are chapped and my insides are black and rotting into a disgusting gelatinous syrup. But I can’t fucking quit it.

It’s like being in an abusive relationship. I keep getting punched in the teeth for not having dinner ready on time or asking questions during LOST but I still love him anyway. I have hope that he’ll change, but he won’t. He’ll come home drunk and want to fuck and I’ll cry the whole time and he’ll punch me in the back of the head and say shit like “Shut up cunt. I can’t make white with you sobbing like an idiot” and then I’ll weep quietly and every painfully deep breath I take to keep from crying causes my vageroo to tighten like a vice grip on his wang and he completes the transaction. But he won’t let me wipe up. He tells me “It has to dry inside of you so other men know I was there first”. And I still can’t get enough.

So to sum up, this snack is painful and will completely make you hate your life, but you will eat it until you poop blood.

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