fizzy grapes, orange and mango

“I know you, you know me, one thing I can tell you is”

to­day is Weird Soda Day, the bonus edi­tion. You have not two, but thrree; YES, THRREE sep­a­rate sips of strange­ness, start­ing with: Grapette Grape Soda.

Yeah, it came from Wal­mart, but ap­par­ent­ly it IS the orig­i­nal recipe for Grapette, which I was for­tu­nate to have ex­pe­ri­enced as a mis­er­able child on a cross-coun­try road trip. The vend­ing ma­chines still dis­pensed bot­tles, es­pe­cial­ly in the south­ern states. Ice-cold, it has an in­stant bite to the tongue, fol­lowed by a flood of oth­er­world­ly in­tense grape essence, and a creepy ef­fect of the car­bon­a­tion that gives the sen­sa­tion of juicy pur­ple grapes tum­bling down one’s throat. 

Told ya, it was weird. [On an even creepi­er note, the can fea­tures the word “en­joy” cen­tered above Grapette in an alarm­ing and po­ten­tial­ly prob­lem­at­ic place­ment. Now I can­not un­see it. One would think they were try­ing to say some­thing, ei­ther way you wan­na take it …] 

Just don’t read what’s in it, and you’ll be fine. Hop­ing it don’t change the col­or of … things. No fur­ther up­dates will be posted. 

Three out of five belch­es, and you get some re­al­ly slick spit af­ter­wards, which you don’t have to pay ex­tra for.
 

Grate­ful­ly fol­lowed by Spin­drift Sparkling Wa­ter & Real Squeezed Fruit (“yup, that’s it”). With 7% juice, no added sug­ar, and a dab o’ cit­ric acid (for taht­ness, dahling) the or­ange man­go va­ri­ety is per­fect for those seek­ing fla­vor with­out the sugarblast. 

And it re­mind­ed me of an­oth­er long gone soda: Koala Springs. You re­mem­ber it too, per­haps? This is bet­ter than my mem­o­ry of that, plus health­i­er. Dey used to mix it with wine at the beach, dem hip­pies did.

Five out­ta five belch­es, and con­sid­er spe­cial or­der­ing it by the case, so oth­ers can en­joy it too. Spread the love!

And the next time you are in Lucky Mar­ket and/or Al­bert­sons, try house brand Sun­ny Se­lect Seltzer! 

Chill it un­til you can bare­ly hold it, then crack open that can! Big bub­bles, no sug­ar, no sodi­um, no col­ors, no fla­vor­ings, no way I will leave any on the shelf, so grab it if you see me comin.’ 

Again, five out­ta five belches. 

In­vest in a de­cent cool­er, or fill a five gal­lon buck­et with ice. Keep that fridge re­served for your pre-Thanks­giv­ing test runs …

And don’t for­get to floss!
 
 

—rob­bie edmonds

Flom­mist Rob­bie Ed­monds would love to sit down with you and dis­cuss his the­o­ries of mind-swap­ping and time trav­el, but it ap­pears as if he, as his cat, just left to stop him­self from do­ing so … AGAIN! Copy­right © 2017 Rob­bie Edmonds.

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