Tomorrow marks our second December working in a town that fake snows. Mr Bubble suds burning the eyes of children as they scamper on the slippery cobblestones of Market Street. It's going to suck so much. We'll make slightly more money than just the normal sucky nights and we'll go home bruised and brow beaten and wanting to shove a straw through a head. Your head or any head, but preferably our head. Heads. Whatever.
You know we did that whole Jones Soda taste test thing AGAIN this year and boy is it getting to be something that is more fun as it is happening than when I sit down to describe it here. This year there was Christmas Ham flavored soda and Christmas Tree flavored soda and a sneaky surprise of a football flavored five pack with Perspiration, Turf, Dirt, Sports Cream and "Sweet Victory" flavored sodas. The Christmas Ham soda tasted like the ET ride at Universal Studios. The perspiration was disgusting, but nowhere near the bar set now two years ago by the infamous Brussels Sprout Soda.
There is no other substance on this rock we live on that can set me to instantly vomit such as this. This Brussels Sprout Soda. When none of this year's selections set us off, we pulled this vintage from the cupboard. Then we huddled around the toilet and Adam Wekarski and I took our turns with the buttery garbage flavored mess, both puking it up almost instantaneously. Ryan Wiford kept it down somehow, but most likely with some of his secret vegan powers.
Here is a video of me puking. It's really You Tubey to the point that you can't even see the vomit! Enjoy. Yes, I was drinking from a Dora the Explorer Dixie Cup, of course. Yes, it's fruit cake that I ravage from Elise's hand. Yes.
You should go see the new Coen brothers movie No Country for Old Men but leave two thirds of the way through and draw a better ending on a series of napkins. You should also draw some extra napkins for a few of the holes in the plot earlier on that you just accepted because the movie was awesome at that time.
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