I'm thankful for tacos, pizza, video games, and Ferrari's. I am also thankful for yerba mate that doesn't tastes like an old shoe filled with tea. I am also thankful for drinks that compliment my breath (bref) with the niceties on mint. Yes, I brush my teeth (teef) twice a day, never floss, and tongue scrape, but sometimes a brother just likes a little extra help, and if I can get it in a delicious tea, I'll take it.

I go to the store all the time to see new drinks that we haven't reviewed and these Guayaki cans have been staring me out every single time I go to "the aisle". Finally, I found one that we haven't reviewed so I can drink it. It's not autumn themed, I know, but I don't care. I'll drink soup in the summer, drink cider in the spring, drink iced tea in the winter, and... Buffalo doesn't really have a fall. It just goes from warm to garbage pretty instantly so we have a limited "hoodie" weather unless, of course, you're me and you wear hoodies as winter coats.

This tea was good. Quite good. It was bitter like a yerba mate should be, but not as earthy as some of the other ones. "Entry level" yerba mate, if you will. It's nicely, lightly sweetened with a nice end taste/aftertaste of mint.

This I like. This you should like.

You would think that a Jamaican ginger ale would just be called "ginger beer", right? Well that's why I make the big bucks and you are a dummy. You know that Jamaicans love spicy things like ginger beer, salsa, chicken wings, and spicy tuna sushi rolls. Yep, those are the Jamaicans we all know and love. Hey, do you think that every Jamaican teenager has a tapestry of Bob Marley? If so, I hope that it's cheaper since, you know, he's local. I hope that is the case. I would also hate to see that they had to pay full price for a Bob Marley record.

Because of these few prerequisites, I don't think that Jamaicans would like this ginger ale. I, an American, really liked it. It tastes like ginger, doesn't have bite, and is perfectly sweetened. It's better than most ginger ales that I've ever had and now I will not forget it next time I drink some garbage, Joe Lunchpail, ginger ale. I love ginger beer, and the hotter the better, but this is a separate drink all together.

I've had pink guava juice in the past, and now I am presented with one that is off white. Which is the true color? Is there artificial color added to the pink? Are there two different types of guava one white, one pink? Guess what, I don't care. It's all delicious. Guava is very close to the top on my list of favorite fruits, and I've never met a juice of it that I did not like.

This is really nice because it's not just guava juice, but guava pulp. It's thick and has the teeniest, tiniest little chunks of fruit in it. The only thing that I could think of that might make this better would be if there wasn't any added extra sugar in it. Maybe that's just me being a fan of pure fruit juice though.

Johnny was a masochist. He would go to S&M clubs many nights and would enjoy being hit by whips. It might not make sense to you, but you're not Johnny. He would come home battered and bruised three to four days a week. He would always wear collared, long sleeved shirts so no one was the wiser. He worked as an accountant in the big city and didn't want others to know what he did in his personal time.

On his way home from Whipped Into Shape, one of his frequent clubs, he was a bit parched and headed into a small corner store to get something to drink. He was going through a bit of a passionfruit kick so when he saw Kahe's passionfruit drink, he had to get it.

He went home, checked out his new gnarly bruises and welts, and then cracked open his new drink and had at it. It was like a free admittance to another S&M club because this drink was bad, but he kept going back for more. It was tart, didn't taste like passion fruit, and was poorly, artificially sweetened. Every time he took another sip, he would make a strange face of disgust, but for reasons beyond his knowledge, he kept drinking it.

Although he prefers the clubs, he now knows that anytime he can't make it, he can pick up a bottle of that sparkling fruit juice and have twelve ounces of sadomasochism.

Let me tell you the tale of Chia Steve. His cousin Joe is the founder of the Chia Pet empire. The fortune that he amassed during the late 70's an the 80's was enormous. We're talking Scrooge McDuck money here, like swimming pools full of money-money. You're probably thinking "Well good for him. He had a great idea and he ran with it and it paid off." Chia Steve would break your thumbs if he heard you say that. Steve was, and I guess still is, a botanist. Early in his career he came across the salvia hispanica (chia plant for you non-scientists out there). He became obsessed with how easily the seeds germinated and it was his life goal to discover all of this plants secrets. He spent so much time with the chia plants that the seeds would often get lodged in his unruly beard. It was at Thanksgiving 1976 when Steve went to his family dinner. He had been up all night with his plants and had yet to sleep. He didn't have much time so he just jumped in the shower to rinse off. Steve didn't realize that there were a whole mess of seeds in his beard and by the time dinner rolled around they had begun to sprout on his face. The entire family, including Steve, had a good laugh about it. He gave everyone a quick lesson on the plant and then ate his weight in mashed potatoes and stuffing. Steve had no idea that Joe was even paying attention until six months later when Chia Pets hit the market. Joe wouldn't even return Steve's calls and the infamous "Chia Court" battles ensued. It really broke poor Steve's mind grapes and he became a bit of a shut in.

A few year ago his sister finally got him to open his door to her. She came over weekly to drop off food, and clean up the place a bit. Once she got grossed out because she thought thousands of tiny spores had sprouted in one of Steve's juice glasses. It took quite a while for him to convince her that they weren't spores and were in fact chia seeds. He had been adding them to his morning juice for years for their health benefits. That was the moment that turned Steve's life around. His sister convinced him to market this juice. He was reluctant at first until she convinced him they would give cousin Joe a run for his money. Thus Mamma Chia was born.

Their flagship flavor was the cherry lime. It's weird because in a world obsessed with mojitos whenever you taste lime you expect the cool crispness of mint to follow. That is not the case with this beverage. Instead you are met with the tartness of cherry juice. It's not a combination of juices that I could drink a lot of, but the seeds really work with it. They are coated with some sort of gelatinous casing that makes them go down smooth. It's almost frothy feeling. The taste of the lime and the cherry mixed in with the entertainment of the coated seeds make this a tasty and interesting beverage. Here's to hoping that Chia Steve will soon be diving into Olympic swimming pools full of gold doubloons.

ps. Everything stated above with the exception of how awesome the drink tastes is a complete fallacy. Sincerely, Known Liar Jason.

Shirley Temples: The saviors of the non-drinking world at bars at bowling alleys across the world. Even though it has a cutesy name that makes it seem like a kid's drink, it is a tasty beverage that I have drank quite a lot in my life. The ingredients in this glorious drink are either ginger ale or lemon lime soda and grenadine syrup. Grenadine syrup is a thick, well syrup, which tastes like cherries.

As one would expect this tastes like a Shirley Temple, with the proportions reversed. It's more cherry syrup than it is lemon lime. It leaves something to be desired though. It tastes more like sugar and syrup than it does cherries. If you want something like this I suggest going into a bar and having one of your friends order you a Shirley Temple with their beer, as to not get a stupid look from the bartender when you ask for it yourself. Judgmental pricks.

Everything about this drink makes me want to listen to a Flock Of Seagulls record. The color, the fonts, the taste, everything. I just want to listen to the 1982 self-titled record, watch one episode of Miami Vice, and watch "Summer School" with Mark Harmon and Kirstie Alley. I want to channel Chainsaw and get a pair of Cool Dude sunglasses, sit on the beach, and drink this.

It tastes like a tropical blue Freez-e-pop. There isn't that much to say. I don't really get blueberry or raspberry. It's hardly juice and it's mostly sugar, water, and flavoring. I'm not letting them get away with calling it "juice". I will let them get away with having a gnarly bottle that's almost hard to hold on to due to cuts, grooves, and angles. Who cares, though? If you drop it, that's on you, Jack. This is not bad. Get a bottle and share it with friends because no one should take in this much sugar in one sitting. Then, go watch Texas Chainsaw Massacre and watch syndicated episodes of Becker to see what happened to the pregnant girl from Summer School.

Deep in the mountains of Pennsylvania there once was a group of hill people who lacked intelligence to such a great degree that they couldn't even make moonshine properly. They were the laughingstock of the yokel world. All these pour saps wanted to do was make some cheap hooch that could potentially make them blind, and they failed at every turn. No one really knows what they were thinking when they were trying to make it, but what resulted was a world-class birch beer. You know the kind that you would buy out of a tin mug at a county fair. When they presented it to some of their neighbors, it took awhile for the laughing to subside, but then one of them said something along the line of "how do you expect to make booze without some sort of fruits or vegetables. Since they were in season the family added a butt load of blueberries to their next batch. They still failed to make anything that would get them drunk, but what they did make was truly magical. It was a fine birch beer to start with, but the addition of the blueberries made it astronomical. It was incredibly fruity and sweet and chock full of classic olde time birch beer flavor. To top it all off it somehow went from a healthy dark brown to a bright blue.

The word soon spread about how dumb this family was, but how they had somehow managed to create a tasty treat. The tale soon reached the ears of a wealthy railroad family who moved to PA and hired the family on the spot to continue production of their soda. As a salary they would be paid in low-end whiskey (the gave them nice whiskey at first, but the hill people made fun of it saying it was too hoity toity, so they switched to swill). And that is the story of how Reading Railroad got put on the Monopoly board.


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As I drink more of this I realized that Reading Draft has done to birch beer what Voltage did to Mountain Dew, except normal birch beer is great where as regular Mountain Dew is garbage. It just has a slightly similar taste to the Voltage, which is the only Mountain Dew flavor worth putting into your body.

You've had it before, you have forgotten about it, and for that, you should kick yourself because Vanilla Coke is as good as it ever was. The same as it ever was. The same as it ever was. This can, unlike cans that Americans buy, is from Thailand. Derek's daddy got it for us. Sure, on one side it says "Coca-Cola" in English, and "vanilla" in a sweet, 80's font, but everyone knows what that looks like. The other side is the money shot.

Flavor? I have always loved vanilla coke. I will admit that I haven't bought it in a while, but that's because I find it hard to find in a single can or bottle. I don't need a twelve pack of anything so I just skip right on by that purchase without taking a second glance. I don't know what this is sweetened with, whether it's real sugar or corn syrup, but this can't didn't really stand a chance once I took a drink.

Coke, you are great in many languages. For that, America, Taiwan, and other countries that decided to remain anonymous when I took the poll thank you for your years of dedicated service.

Joe was eight. He's nine now, but he was eight when this story took place. Joey had a jerk other brother who always played jokes on him. Joe and his bother Alan went to a little corner store and Joe saw a new bottle of Arizona half and half. It wasn't just any half and half, it was raspberry half and half. When Joe reached in, Alan yelled from across the store and said, "You can't have that. You're not old enough." Joe, who was obviously old enough to drink lemonade and tea, didn't believe him, but after way too much effort on Alan's part, he actually convinced Joe that he needed to be ten to buy that bottle. Alan said that he knew a kid that would make him a fake ID.

They went to Alan's friend Darren's house and they went in the basement. In the basement, Darren had a printer, and a digital camera. He drew a mustache on Joe with magic marker to make him look ten, took the picture, printed it on a photocopy of Darren's mom's old license, covered it in scotch tape, and gave it to Joe. Joe paid Darren the fee, one bag of Tropical Skittles, and they went back to the store.

Joe went up to the counter with his half and half, showed the woman behind the counter the ID, and gave her a dollar. She laughed, handed him a penny, and Joe ran outside, happy to try a new flavor. With a fake mustache, fake ID, one penny, and new drink, Joe was on top of the world. He took his first sip and sighed because he got away with it. It tastes like processed, but not bad, diet lemonade and raspberry iced tea. No one let him know that he didn't need that ID until he was twelve, but by then it didn't matter because he was old enough and didn't need the ID anymore.

Oh man I could really go for some Thai food. Some peanut satay would really hit the spot, specifically in wrap form. That would be delicious. A nice wrap of peanut sauce and tofu. Maybe I'll go a little crazy and get some ginger on it. What do you mean you don't serve satay? I'm sorry. I thought any self respecting hot dog stand would be well stocked in the foods of other cultures. I guess this world just isn't the place I thought it was. It looks like I'll have to go see what that little market next door has.

Hmmm they don't have any prepared foods, but the woman working the counter did recommend this drink to me. I like soy milk so why not. Oh wow this does taste exactly like peanut satay. Actually this is kind of gross. It makes me feel like I was in a horrific car accident and had to get my jaw wired shut, and as a result my jaw has been wired shut, and I need to have all of my foods liquefied. Okay after two sips I can't drink anymore.

Dear Day to Day, I don't know what peanuts have to do with bean milk, but screw you for putting me off peanuts for a little while.

Twenty-one inches, ladies and gentlemen. Twenty-one inches. What is twenty-one inches, you ask? The spaghetti that I bought today. Some of the strands I later discovered were bent in half so the ones that were 100% intact were actually forty-two inches long. You see why I had to buy it, right? Every day people eat boring spaghetti that is only a foot long, and that's for the birds now what I've had this stuff.

To accompany my giant, novelty spaghetti, I had to have a solid drink. You know how some wine compliments cheese and visa-versa? Apparently I think that ginger ale compliments spaghetti because that's what I picked out.

I was let down. The spaghetti was alright. It took forever to cook and although it wasn't bad, it was just long spaghetti. One thing I didn't like after the fact is that it was hollow which made it hard to slurp. I don't typically slurp spaghetti, but the fact that I was going to slurp on strand of spaghetti for up to forty-two inches was something I quickly put and then removed from my bucket list. The ginger ale was dreadfully mediocre. It didn't have any bite and if anything was a bit dry. One did not compliment the other and I made a poor pairing mistake.

If you see that spaghetti anywhere, buy it because it is fun. If you see this pop anywhere, leave it be.

My grandparents had a small apple orchard in their back yard. I loved apples. When I was a kid they were my absolute favorite. As a result whenever I was visiting them and apples were ripe I would gather up as many as I could and devour apple and apple until I got sick. I was a dumb kid. I liked the game of seeing how many I could eat. The best part about their orchard was that they were all green and yellow apples. As much as I love apples I would pick one of those over any red apple any day. I tip my hat to Juicy Juice for going the uncommon route and using green apples in their sparkling juice. This could have turned out just like any other sparkling apple juice, but they mixed things up a bit and I thank them for that.

There is something strange about carbonating green apples. They almost get a sour apple candy taste to them. At first sip I was disappointed because I thought it was sour apple candy flavored. Then I remembered it was juicy juice and they don't add sugar. After a couple of more sips I was completely on board. It is slightly sour, but then again so are green apples. The aftertaste specifically really tastes like you just at an apple. So far, this is my favorite in this line.

Dear Shloer, just look at what you've done! You should be ashamed of yourself! You created a quality product with your sparkling red grape juice and now you've gone and sullied your family name with this abomination. For shame! I can't believe you would let it leave your facilities with the way it smells, which is to say like a hobo's breath. It doesn't taste much better either. I was told it tastes like cheap bad wine. I wouldn't know, but I do know that I would now never in a million years ever try cheap bad wine, because this is just bad. It certainly tastes fermented and gross. Out of the 10 people I had try it 3 said it was decent, not good, but decent and everyone else was completely grossed out. I wonder if it did start to ferment somehow and it now turning to alcohol. I took two sips and I really can't drink anymore. It's a shame it was such a big bottle.

It's a little known fact that after the robot wars died down Shockwave, the second in command of the Deceptacons, started dabbling in the energy drink game. He got so into it that he altered his laser arm to be a drink dispenser (you know like in a fast food restaurant). It was strange times. After several failed attempts at classic energy drinks he decided to take it in ta-other direction. He realized that the United States is slowly becoming more health conscious, and while they still don't care about adding extra stress to their hearts they want healthier alternatives to their beverages. He then designed a carbonated energy juice. He basically carbonated some orange juice (with a handful of other fruit juices mixed in for an extra kick) and added the usual suspects of energy giving supplements; taurine, caffeine, b vitamins and others. His past creations were fairly average because he didn't have a group of human taste testers, but for this he fed it to elementary school kids who then finished recess in record-breaking time. He realized that he had made something very special. As a single robotic tear formed from his one digital eye, Megatron showed up and turned into a giant gun and shot him in the face. Tragic really. The world will now never know what future wonders this drink guru would have come up with.

Somewhere in the Carpathian Mountains a thirsty scientist named Vigo has gone "mad." He was sick of having to choose between his two favorite drinks, which were green tea and root beer. He decided to take matters in his own hands. He would create a hybrid, a Frankenstein monster of sorts of beverages. He loaded up his ingredients on the platform. He was about to raise it into the storm brewing above when his assistant grabbed his arm and begged him to reconsider to think of how this would affect the future of the planet. The mad genius threw him off and yelled, "Back off man I'm a scientist!" With that he threw the switch and the platform was raised and instantly struck with lightening. If you know anything about science that is the only proper way to make an unholy alliance.

As the platform lowered Vigo scooped out a cupful in his chalice and took a big gulp. His mouth was greeted by three waves of flavor. At first it was just a nice sweet soda taste, it was actually almost a cola. Then a wave of weakish root beer flavor washed over him. It wasn't nearly as strong as he had wanted, but it wasn't bad at all. Finally as that faded away it was replaced with the bitter sting of green tea. He felt that his creation wasn't a complete success, but it was good enough to market to the public. He then vowed to spend the rest of eternity trying to improve upon his creation. It's a couple thousand years later and he still hasn't gotten it quite right. This is a nice hybrid, but it doesn't quite deliver as much as you would want it to in either the tea or root beer categories. Maybe someday Vigo will find a baby so he can return to the earthly realm and begin his work anew.

Today on Sick Sad World we will venture into the depths of the Canadian forests in search of the ever-elusive elderflower. Not much is known about this strange and fascinating creature/plant other than it lives off of human flesh, and that I have only been able to find drinks made of it in the "great white north." What's that Barry? You tangled with a bear and not an elderflower? Why didn't you tell me that earlier before he hauled all of this camera equipment out into the woods? I don't care that you didn't want to hurt my feelings. Do you know how much money we wasted? On top of that now we have to worry about bears that might rip our arms off like they did yours. Geeze. I bet elderflower doesn't even grow in Canada. I bet they aren't even sentient beings. Someone get out their phone and Wiki that for me. Okay Jim hand that Droid over here. Looks like it's just a plant that grows all over Europe and South America. Good job guys. Why didn't someone bring up doing a little research before we came up here? Okay I'll take part of the burden, but can you blame me? Those drinks have such a unique flowery yet fruity taste. It's like nothing I've ever had before and I have absolutely nothing to compare it to. Perhaps a flowery white grape juice. That's not exactly it, but it's as close as I can think of. Great now I'm craving some. Pack it up guys. We're heading home. On the way we're stopping by Ikea so I can pick up a case of those little elderflower juice boxes they have. I know you guys make fun of my when I pack them in my lunch and call me a baby, but you are the ones losing out by not drinking the delicious nectar. As long as I have that I'll take all the mockery you can shovel out. No Barry we're not going to help you carry a shelving unit for your records. You lost that privilege when you lost your arm and didn't tell us truthfully how.

Let's play a little game called taste the flavor. You, the contestant, are put into a dark theatre to enjoy a movie. You are then handed a contraband beverage that your ladyfriend has snuck into the theatre for you. The movie is pretty dark (and completely brutal) so you can't see the label of the drink to know the flavor. Can you guess the flavor in three tries?

On the first sip you discern that it is not quite a juice and that it must be some kind of "ade" or a fruit drink of some kind. It's thinner and sweeter than a juice would be. Since you are an intelligent human being who is familiar with the Cintron line, you know that from the bottle shape this must certainly be an ade. Now you're a little confused. It's a strong fruity flavor is it peach? ***BUZZ*** Nope, your first guess is wrong. Well it does taste more tropical. It's certainly not guava, but it's something along those lines. Suddenly your brain moves to thoughts of stringy fruit. Of course. How could you not have gotten it on the first guess? It's most certainly Cintron's mango ade. Now that you know what it is you can't believe you would have thought it was anything else. It's so obviously the sweet, sweet juice of the mango without all of the sticky, stringy mess. Now sit back and enjoy your film, and try not to drink it all too quickly. You don't want to have to get up to go to the toity and miss a crucial plot point.

One of my two bosses drinks at least one of these a day. It didn't occur to me that we hadn't reviewed one yet so I borrowed some which if he asks for it back; it will be in a disgustingly different form.

Starbucks has some good "on the shelf" stuff. This is good. You know why it's good? Because it doesn't taste anything like an energy drink. Strange how that works, eh? I love this drink because of it's false advertising. I would expect this to taste like coffee spilled into some brat kids plastic pumpkin head of nothing but plain chocolate and Pixie Stix. Scene:

"Trick or Treat!" says the little girl. "It's November, kid. Get out of here," your grandpa says. "I know, but I want candy and my mom said that I can't have any and I know that when I go to other people's houses and ask with a ghost costume on, they give me candy. See? Look. I've got some chocolate and someone had Pixie Stix left over. They said they were to old for Pixie Stix and gave me a handful of them." "Oh yeah?" said grandpappy. "Well here's what I think of your out of the box thinking." he said as he pours an entire carafe of old coffee into the boys plastic jack-o-lantern, but before the boys leaves, the old man dips his cup into the pail now filled with floating candy bars, Pixie Stix wrappers, old coffee, and the little boys tears, and takes it to his lips. He enjoys it, because he's a terrible old man.

End scene.

Thing is, it doesn't taste like that. It's a smooth coffee drink. If I didn't know better, I would just say that it's a mocha Frappuccino. You even get a periodic taste of real coffee, which is a nice touch, I must say. Who knows how much actual caffeine is in there, between the coffee and whatever other energy supplements they have in there.

I hope that story that was completely fabricated never comes true. I would hate to see a sad ghost kid walking down the street with damp, coffee stained candy.

Chunks and bits. Chunks and bits. That's what on the bottom of this bottle of lemonade. You know what else is in there? Vegetable oil. Why? I don't know. I'm not the mix-master of this drink. It's in there nonetheless and you have to drink it if you want to drink this drink. It's also carbonated, but not much, and so little so that you don't know the real point of it being carbonated in the first place. If you're going to do something, go the whole nine and don't go half way, or in this case, one-tenth the way to actual, recognizable carbonation.

The bits are a nice touch. Man up and drink something with some substance. Man up? Who am I, your dad? "Man up, son, and get a job." Forget I said that. There is something I'm not crazy about in there, though. It's acidic and a bit sour but...something. What is it? I don't know. There might be an undesirable amount of bitterness.

If you like lemonade and see this, get it. It's fun, but when you buy something with bits and chunks and bits in it, you want them to really be there. Scare your friends. Scare your wife. Scare your kids. Do it with lemonade.