Hubert's Lemonade Strawberry

This week Mike turns thirty. His ladyfriend decided to throw him a surprise party, so it was Editor Dan and my job to get him out of the house and to the party at the appropriate time. People were concerned that there would be problems with this, but Dan and I know the way to Mike's heart and it's with the promise of breakfast at the flea market. Even before the party we had a great day of wonderfully gross food, old Buffalo and Ghostbusters metal pins and I got the high score in Galaga. The times were great. Dan and I believe we even wandered into another dimension as we found ourselves in a part of the dirt mall that we had never been to. Finally it was time for the party and we took Mike to the park where everyone else awaited our arrival. I have no idea how he didn't know about it, but the secret held strong. In true Mike fashion he showed no emotion over any of it. That's why we love him.

The party was fun, even though it was about a billion degrees and I got a ridiculous sunburn. We chased a turkey, ate a lot of food and of course drank some drinks. I had a Slurpee earlier on, but when the effects started fading, I decided to go with this strawberry lemonade. We've gotten a handful of comments from people saying that they think the Huberts company is garbage, but we could not disagree more. It tastes like they made lemonade from lemon juice concentrate; you know the stuff that comes in the little plastic lemons. It's nice and sour and tastes like real lemons. I don't know if as a whole it's not sweet enough for those who complained, or maybe it's the extremely faint stevia taste that hides in there. All I can say is those people are wrong and this is great lemonade. The base is great and the extract of strawberry they use makes it taste like someone just mashed the hell out of some berries and put it in their lemonade. I love it. You should love it. You should join us on Tuesday when we ride bikes to a strip club for Mike's birthday to get hot dogs. It's a tradition that we don't go in, just acquire hot dogs from the cart outside. Does anything else scream, “Welcome to your Thirties!” more?