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We have a new contributing author!
Marshall Staxx (if that is his REAL name) is a slightly manic, UFC-watching bum of the finest kind, and will be publishing reviews of his own from this week onward.
He is completely lacking in self-preservation instinct generous enough to have offered to review the stronger stimulants out there. The kind that are legal, but only because THE MAN hasn’t got round to banning them yet.
Watch this space!
'Subtle' doesn't even begin to describe the packaging. 'Eyeball-rupturingly garish', however, is right on the money.
A while ago, while working for my previous employer, a man called Alex tried to persuade me not to buy a can of Rockstar and warned me that it tasted deeply vile. Naturally, this very act caused me to hand over my money and promptly pour the entire can down my throat, resulting in my making a face the likes of which hasn’t been seen since the last time Sid James got his rocks off and then vowing never to drink it ever again.
So today, while wandering around Tesco, I noticed that the makers of Rockstar have realised that their product tastes rather similar to carbonated tramp piss – and, to try to mitigate this minor issue, they’ve stuck a bunch of orange juice in there to mask the horror.
Well, the good news is that it works. Rockstar Juiced is probably one of the best-tasting canned energy drinks that I’ve ever had – it’s pretty much exactly the same as drinking half a litre of Fanta with light tropical overtones – apple, mango and passion fruit, to be specific. They’re natural flavours, too, which is helpful.
There’s no disappointment to the caffeine content, either, with the same concentration as Red Bull but in a larger volume can.
GUYS GUYS GUESS WHAT WHEN YOU PRESS THIS BUTTON IT MAKES A DROP SHADOW
So this afternoon, I went to Tesco to grab some lunch (I may work in Shoreditch, but I’m damned if I’ve gone searching for actual interesting places to eat there yet). Next to the Kx (rebranded from Kick) own-brand drink was this wonderful, questionably branded energy drink. Its ingredients, in English and Polish, set with glorious blocky Verdana, drew me in. And just to make sure that I was convinced, it was endorsed by a man called Darek “Tiger” Michalczewski who appeared to be wearing a white shirt, jacket and pointing his finger in a threatening manner. This, surely, was a promise of preposterous amounts of testostorone.
Preposterone.
What I discovered upon opening this aluminium prison of pure, liquid manliness, was a pale yellow fluid that I presume is the tears of Darek’s enemies with a little vanilla added to taste. Which is quite strong, actually, to the degree that with every sip you start to realise that with any other energy drink, a taste this strong would mean the impending arrival of a world-shattering aftertaste.
This will rape your mother, kill your father and then eat you.
The Relentless Energy Shot. In its surprisingly utilitarian ‘cheap plastic bottle with a label glued on’ packaging, you could be forgiven for thinking that the purchase of one of these things might be an ego-boosting stroke of forward planning. “Aha!”, you think to yourself, as I did. “I’ll buy a few of these, carry them around in my bag and when I’m knackered I’ll knock one back, wake up a bit and everything will be fine.”
Well, you’re half right. Two things went through my mind when I opened this bottle and poured it into my mouth. The first was, “Sod the Quick Energy Shot, this is what pure industrialism would taste like”, and the second was “OH GOD I CAN STILL TASTE IT SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP ME OH GOD.”
Yes, I’m afraid so. It tastes horrendous. Fortunately, we’re only talking about – in the marketing blurb’s own words – a ’shot’. 50ml, to be precise. And I’ll give it its dues, after you’ve swallowed it down, wondered how something can taste this metallic and artificial and still not be corrosive, and rinsed out your mouth with something, anything that tastes less disgusting, you will experience what I can only describe as an ethereal roundhouse kick delivered right to the very centre of your consciousness.
Quick? Yes. Healthy? Probably not. Energy? Hold on to your underwear.
I found this garish monstrosity on an adventure to find beer a few weeks ago. After being promised ‘Quick. HEALTHY. ENERGY.’, I couldn’t resist inviting it back to my flat with the intention of letting it slide itself inside me.
See, now I feel dirty. Anyway.
One thing that I’ve learned from my experience with energy shots is that they taste really quite bad. This is to be expected – generally, psychoactive chemicals don’t taste very good at all, so a strong flavouring gets added – but this stuff took me by surprise. It’s very similar to drinking neat orange squash – very sickly, quite persistent but not entirely unpleasant, and for an energy shot that’s pretty high praise.
One thing that I’ve decided to do with these energy shots is to actually take a look at the liquids themselves. This is no exception, so I poured it out into a shot glass emblazoned with the Jack Daniels logo – in the hopes that Almighty Jack, our Lord and Saviour of shitty clubnights, might look down from on high and bless this endeavour. And by ‘bless this endeavour’, I do of course mean ‘stop me from getting a massive fucking heart attack’.
Fortunately, I’m still writing, so I must have done something right.
My fridge is organised. See? Also, it could really do with a clean.
I’ve been out and about, gathering the finest (and sketchiest) caffeine products that the many local dodgy corner shops have to offer.
So here it is, ladies and gentlemen – here’s what you have to look forward to over the next few days.
I’m particularly excited about the Best-In brand Stimulation Drink. At only 35p, you can be sure it contains only the cheapest and dirtiest ingredients.
Brilliant.