Pomegranate 7UP

Since when has pomegranate ever been festive?

When I think of Christmas, I don’t think about pomegranate, but according to the snowflake covered packaging of the limited-time-only Pomegranate 7UP, it might be the second coming of mistletoe. I can think of many things more festive than pomegranate. People waking up at 3:00 a.m. on Black Friday to wait in line at 4:00 a.m. for a slim chance to get a $399 laptop or $10 DVD player, but when they get there, there’s already fifty people in line wanting the same stuff is more Christmassy than pomegranate.

I don’t know of anyone who adds the pomegranate berry to trees, wreaths, or holiday centerpieces. I can’t think of anyone who uses its juice to either permanently stain all their clothes to holiday readiness or to paint a Santa suit on their skin. There also isn’t anyone who thinks pomegranate makes Rudolph’s nose red or adds color to Santa’s cheeks. So how can pomegranate suddenly be holiday-ish?

When I found out about the Pomegranate 7UP, I didn’t think to myself, “Move over, egg nog, I’m going to get fat off of another beverage this season.” But wait, now that I think about it, how would I get fat off of pomegranate? After all, it’s healthy and full of antioxidants.

Thankfully, the wonderful folks at 7UP have solved this dilemma for me, because according to the ingredients list on its packaging, the Pomegranate 7UP has no pomegranate in it and enough sugar to replace the fat content of egg nog, which will help me if I want to become a shopping mall Santa without the need for a fat suit. I know it says “100% Natural Flavors” on the label, but when there’s no juice in its ingredients to give this soda its flavor, you’ve got to wonder whether it’s as natural as Demi Moore’s face.

There definitely is a pomegranate flavor to it, although it’s kind of light. Its overall flavor is good and not sickly sweet, despite the 31 grams of sugar per cup. However, unless you love the taste of pomegranate, I don’t see any real reason to purchase this variation of 7UP. The whole point of putting pomegranate into something is for its health benefits, but when there’s no pomegranate to be found, it’s like a golddigger sleeping with MC Hammer in 1996 and then finding out that he’s bankrupt.

Oh, how I miss Pepsi Holiday Spice.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 cup – 120 calories, 0 grams of fat, 35 milligrams of sodium, 32 grams of carbs, 31 grams of sugar, 0 grams of protein, 0 grams of caffeine, and 0 grams actual pomegranateness)

Item: Pomegranate 7UP
Price: $1.49 (2-liters)
Purchased at: 7-Eleven
Rating: 3 out of 5
Pros: Tastes good. Not sickly sweet. Pepsi Holiday Spice. Getting a $399 laptop on Black Friday.
Cons: Seems like there’s no actual pomegranate. HFCS. No sweet, sweet caffeine. 31 grams of sugar per cup. Golddiggers. Not getting a $399 laptop on Black Friday.

REVIEW: Pepsi Ice Cucumber

Apparently, Japan has really huge balls.

It has produced some of the most innovative products available, like fuel-efficient hybrid cars; the Nintendo Wii; robotic dogs; vending machines that dispense beer, fried foods, or used schoolgirl panties; and Japanese ads starring American actors who need a quick buck due to their decline in popularity.

But, and this is where Japan earns its huge cojones, it has also developed some of the most fucked up products that no other country has the audacity to create, like tentacle anime porn, numerous products for comforting lonely sukebe men, Pokemon, and now the Japan-only Pepsi Ice Cucumber.

Along with Japan’s huge balls, which I think helps keep its islands afloat with the over 127 million people living on its back, I also think these crazy products Japan comes up with are the result of sucking the sake a little too much, if you know what I’m saying. But I can relate to that, because whenever I pound a few ochoko (small sake cup), I also want to do some crazy shit, like reenact the music video for Prince’s “When Doves Cry.”

How can u just leave me standing?/Alone in a world so cold? (World so cold)/Maybe I’m just 2 demanding/Maybe I’m just like my father 2 bold/Maybe you’re just like my mother/She’s never satisfied (She’s never satisfied)/Why do we scream at each other/This is what it sounds like/When doves cry

To come up with the idea for Pepsi Ice Cucumber, I’m guessing it took quite a lot of sake, just like it did for all the other crazy ideas for beverages in Japan and this commercial starring Nicholas Cage.

Much like how apple juice can look like beer and urine can look like pineapple soda, Pepsi Ice Cucumber’s green color makes it looks like Cepacol Mouthwash. Its flavor is light, just like actual cucumbers. There’s a slight fruitiness to it, but there definitely is a cucumber flavor to it, albeit artificial, like Paris Hilton holding the Bible.

To be honest, the Pepsi Ice Cucumber was not as bad as I thought it would be. Still it’s slightly gross and weird, but there’s something about it that drew me back to it. It’s like the relationship that Lindsay Lohan and rehab have.

Drinking a bottle was a vicious masochistic cycle. I’d take a sip, say to myself, “Damn, this is kind of nasty,” and put it back in the refrigerator. A few hours later I’d open my fridge, take a sip, say to myself, “Damn, this is kind of nasty,” and put it back in the refrigerator. It took me three days to finish a bottle.

Pepsi Ice Cucumber was available only in Japan, but quickly sold out. Right now, the only way for Westerners to get their hands on a bottle is through the virtual garage sale clusterfuck known as eBay, where prices can get semi-expensive thanks to overzealous capitalism and shipping. Is it worth spending a decent amount of money on this novelty soda?

It really depends on how big your balls are.

Item: Pepsi Ice Cucumber
Price: $24.99 (Three 500 ml bottles)
Purchased at: eBay
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Not as bad as I thought it would be. Slightly fruity. Something about it makes me come back for more. Japan has huge balls. The Nintendo Wii. Japanese commercials with American actors. Hybrid cars.
Cons: Light artificial cucumber taste was slightly gross and weird. Looks like mouthwash. Only available in Japan. The things I do when I drink too much sake. Anything with Nicholas Cage in it.

Coca-Cola Vanilla Zero

Hi. Coca-Cola Vanilla Zero here, but you can call me Coke Vanilla Zero for short.

Ever since my cousin Coke Vanilla came back to store shelves, he’s been partying it up and acting like he’s the greatest thing since Diet Coke. But to be honest he’s more like New Coke. Anyway, when he came back, he brought me along with him, and I’m glad he did, but ever since, he’s dragged me to all the parties and nightclubs just to be his wingman

I hate being his wingman and I tell him that. I’d rather just stay at home, watch some HGTV, maybe a little Discovery Channel, while eating some popcorn and sipping on a Diet Pepsi. But somehow he guilts me into going by saying something like, “Our cousin, Coke with Lemon loved to be my wingman, and would be, if he were still alive.”

I loved Coke with Lemon and may he rest in peace in Discontinued Product Heaven, but he would do anything you told him to, because he was a fucking spineless moron. Maybe he fell one too many times at the bottling plant, I don’t know, but his bottle was half-empty, if you know what I mean. For example, just because he had lemon in him, he thought he was a frickin’ Sprite.

Anyway, back to my other moron cousin, Coke Vanilla.

Being his wingman is tough because he will usually choose the beautiful woman with either a friend that kind of looks like a 300-pound Lorena Bobbitt, a friend that has the personality of anything inanimate, or a scary looking friend who should have the words “cock block” tattooed on her forehead. I think he chooses these particular women with the crazy friends just to spite me.

I don’t even think I’m a good wingman. First off, I have nothing good to say about my cousin Coke Vanilla to make him seem appealing to women, unless I like my pants on fire, like a liar. Secondly, I have “Zero” in my name. Who’d want to talk to a guy with a last name like that, because it’s like having “Penis” as a last name. Sure, I have a decent body because I have no calories, no fat and no carbs, but that doesn’t matter because I don’t even taste very good and I get all nervous around women. There’s supposed to be vanilla in me, but I don’t even taste it. It’s like the line between vanilla flavor and the artificial sweetener taste is blurred with me.

Maybe my cousin Coke Vanilla is the better soda and maybe that’s the reason why he ends up with three Fantanas and I end up with the least attractive fourth Fantana, who also turned out to be crazy, needy, and for someone who dances a lot in the Fanta commercials, she sure doesn’t move much in bed. It’s like I’m doing it with a mannequin.

You know which one of the Fantanas I’m talking about.

Item: Coca-Cola Vanilla Zero
Price: 99 cents (20 ounces)
Purchased at: 7-Eleven
Rating: 2 out of 5
Pros: Zero calories. Zero fat. Zero carbs. Decent body. Getting three Fantanas.
Cons: Can’t taste the vanilla. Not very good tasting. Horrible wingman. Having “Penis” as a last name. Getting the crazy, least attractive Fantana. Cock blockers.

Diet Coke Plus

Briiiing. Briiiing.

Hello.

Oh, it’s for you Diet Coke Plus. It’s the 1990s and it wants the color teal back for its prom dresses and expansion professional sports teams, like the Florida Marlins (1993), Jacksonville Jaguars (1995), and San Jose Sharks (1991).

Did someone make teal the new black this season and not tell me? Because in the late 1990s I bought a multiple-discounted pair of teal Tommy Hilfiger jeans from a red tag clearance rack for only $3.99 and I drank enough Coke over the years to finally fit into them. Seriously Coke, if you’re trying to restart the teal trend, I think you picked the wrong color. Although, you could’ve picked teal’s depressing greenish color cousin seafoam, which doesn’t look good on bridesmaid’s dresses or actual seafoam.

Briiiing. Briiiing.

Moshi moshi.

Again, it’s for you Diet Coke Plus. It’s plus-sized people and they know the “Plus” in your name is there only because of the 15% Niacin, 15% Vitamin B6, 15% Vitamin B12, 10% Magnesium, and 10% Zinc of your daily allowances per serving added to you that isn’t found in regular Diet Coke, but they want to let you know that using the word “plus” to market a product to plus-sized people might not work. It’s like how adding the name Kim Kardashian to the words “sex tape” won’t help sell many of the sex tapes.

Who’s Kim Kardashian? Exactly.

Oh yeah, the plus-sized people also want to let you know that they always voted for Sanjaya on American Idol.

Briiiing. Briiiing.

Hola.

Okay. Diet Coke Plus, you seriously need to get your own cell phone. Anyway, it’s my tongue and it wants to know why your older sister Diet Coke tastes like metal playground equipment, while you taste like Diet Coke but a little bit better, a little more tolerable, and with a much better aftertaste? In other words, if Helen Keller drank Diet Coke, I’m pretty sure she would be totally pissed off because to her the taste would probably feel like she lost another one of her senses, but I don’t think you would piss her off that much.

I’m not sure if the vitamins and minerals added made you taste better, Diet Coke Plus, but since you have those vitamins and minerals, taste slightly better, and have the same zero calorie, zero fat, low sodium content as Diet Coke, I think I’ll pick you to drink when I become plus-sized.

Item: Diet Coke Plus
Price: 99 cents (20 ounces)
Purchased at: 7-Eleven
Rating: 3 out of 5
Pros: Tastes slightly better than regular Diet Coke. Has vitamins and minerals added that’s not found in regular Diet Coke. Fat free. Zero calories. Some caffeine. Wearing teal in the 1990s.
Cons: It tastes like a diet soda. Kim Kardashian sex tape. Pissing off Helen Keller. My multiple-discounted pair of teal jeans. Diet Coke Plus needs its own phone. Seafoam. Sanjaya not winning American Idol.

Diet Pepsi Jazz Caramel Cream

I once had a crush in the eighth grade on a girl named Carol.

She was Hispanic, cute, smart, goofy, and dimples appeared on her cheeks when she smiled. I think it was Carol’s dimples that attracted me. She always seemed to have a smile on her face and because of that her dimples would always show. Her dad was a chef or something and perhaps because of that she kicked ass in our home economics class.

I remember her wearing a black and white checkerboard skirt every so often. I don’t know why I liked looking at it, but it seemed something cool that no one else wore. I like to think that perhaps Carol liked me too, until she started hanging out with Randy, that shaggy-haired bastard. For the first time in my life I felt jealousy. I considered Randy a friend, but after I saw him holding Carol’s hand around school, my friendship with him ceased to exist. No longer would I talk to him about episodes of the anime Star Blazers or play soccer on the same field as him.

The word “caramel” in the new Diet Pepsi Jazz Caramel Cream reminds me of Carol because caramel reminds me of her beautiful brown skin. But then again, a lot of things remind me of Carol, like when I look up at a full moon and see its craters, they remind me of her dimples. When I open an oven, I think of her home economic skills. Every time I see a tile floor with an alternating pattern, I think of her checkerboard skirt.

Tasting the Diet Pepsi Jazz Caramel Cream is much like my relationship with Carol before Randy and after Randy. The first sip I took from it had a delightful caramel flavor with a hint of artificial sweeteners, which was as delightful as my time spent with Carol prior to Randy. The sip that quickly followed the first had the delightful caramel flavor sucked right out of it, much like how the life was sucked out of me when I saw Carol in her checkerboard skirt holding hands with that shaggy bastard Randy.

This sudden lack of caramel flavor in the following sip puzzled me, much like how Carol would find Randy attractive puzzled me. If Doogal existed back in the late 1980s, that’s what Randy would’ve looked like. Sure Randy was a nice guy and WAS my friend, but he was shorter than Carol and kind of clumsy.

Anyway, after more taste testing, I found out that if I take roughly three or four minute breaks between sips instead of taking a sip and quickly following that with another sip, the caramel flavor doesn’t go away. However, taking three or four minutes in between sips caused me to nurse the bottle of soda for a while, and when the soda got warm it just didn’t taste the same.

I don’t know how long or how many sips it takes to finish a 20-ounce bottle of Diet Pepsi Jazz Caramel Cream soda, but I went to find out.

Marvo: Mr. Turtle, how many sips does it take to finish a 20-ounce bottle of Diet Pepsi Jazz Caramel Cream soda?

Mr. Turtle: I never made it without biting. Ask Mr. Owl.

Marvo: Mr. Owl, how many sips does it take to finish a 20-ounce bottle of Diet Pepsi Jazz Caramel Cream soda?

Mr. Owl: Let’s find out. One… two-HOO… three..

Mr. Owl: Crunch!

Mr. Owl: Three!

Marvo: Three? What are you? A frickin’ goat? What kind of animal bites into a plastic bottle? With the bottle in that condition, I don’t even think I can get my five cents back when I recycle it. Thanks, Mr. Owl! I hope the next mouse you eat has rabies.

Much like the rest of the Diet Pepsi Jazz flavors, the caramel cream version is good, as long as you take decent breaks in between sips. I don’t know why it loses its flavor like it does when taking a second sip quickly after the first, but if you want to overcome the problem, I suggest drinking it via beer bong or shotgun style. That way it’s just one gigantic sip.

Item: Diet Pepsi Jazz Caramel Cream
Price: $1.09 (20-ounces)
Purchased at: 7-Eleven
Rating: 3 out of 5
Pros: Good for a diet soda. Caramel-ly. First sip is good and sips after long breaks are good. Zero calories, fat, carbs, and sugar. Low sodium. Star Blazers. Carol’s dimples. Carol’s checkerboard skirt. Carol’s home economics skillz.
Cons: The sip that quickly follows the initial sip won’t taste as good as the first. Slight artificial sweetener taste. Gets shitty as it gets warm. That shaggy-haired bastard Randy. Mr. Owl.

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