awesome/sucks: sparks

Riddle me this.

Can you remember your New Year's resolution? You should. After all, chances are you made it right around 39 days ago, which is less than the length of Lent (I could kill a man for a cookie right now), though we're also empathetic to the fact that you very likely made it whilst in the middle of a [Scene Missing] blackout (so much for that resolution not to black out anymore!) and washed it away with other memories of New Year's Eve, like running the numbers on the $130 all-you-can drink party you're attending and realizing that unless your last name is Bonham or Churchill, you probably got bilked out of some serious coin.

I too had forgotten my own New Year's ressy -- yep, I've been to Manhattan before -- until I woke up the morning after a Super Diamond show and couldn't escape an odd feeling:

Hm, this is strange. My heart appears to be beating at a relatively normal rate. I just ate a cookie (pre-Lent, curses!) and it doesn't feel like its chewed remains escaped through a gaping hole in my stomach. Oh, and my teeth aren't, well, orange.

Yep, in my own version of Manning-to-Tyree, I had managed not to take a single sip of the devil's elixir throughout the entire evening, thereby reducing fifteen-billiondy-fold the chances of (i) a face plant on the icy sidewalk, (ii) annoying urges to belt out Whitney Houston lyrics or (iii) internal bleeding.

Yeah, I wanna Sparks with somebody...

Given the propensities of the posters to this blog, I am shocked (shocked!) to see that nobody has penned a tome about the battery acid canned by Beelzebub Industries, Inc. Sparks, I hardly knew ye (would give me hot flashes).

awesome: a cold, full can of sparks

Looks like Frosty's already found his way into a cold can or fourteen. You know those people who think Red Bull is gross and scary and makes their heart beat way to fast and do crazy things and it's just a disgustink drink and wahhhhhhhhhhhh? These are often the people who can unexpectedly throw down two or three cans of the orange without batting an eyelash (or, with batting an eyelash about 76 times a minute). The irony of Sparks being less disgusting than, well, any other beverage or, frankly, thing on Earth, is not lost on Sr. Aguilar, but it's still important to point out that the phrase "pick your poison" is certainly applicable here in, like, a scary way.l

When most people are either (i) so hungover that they don't have the energy to make it out another night or (ii) completely exhausted from drinking Miami Vices all afternoon on a beached ship turned watering hole (see below), you know what they usually do? They go home. And sleep.



Time to catch some shut-eye back in Lincoln Park, brah.

But your average Sparks enthusiast (read: fiend)? Eff it, man, chuck me some battery acid and we'll Go. From. There. Brah!

Ah, sweet, cold can of Sparks. Why do you have to be so far away from me?

sucks: a warm, emty can of sparks





The only two scenarios where you have a warm, empty can of Sparks are (i) after finishing a can of Sparks or (ii) after waking up in the morning to discover you drank a bunch of Sparks the night before.

FIN

awesome/sucks: sparks plus

Ah, yes. For the Sparks enthusiast (read: fiend) who thinks that 6% alcohol and a wheelbarrow full of caffeine and guarana is for pussies, man, it's Sparks Plus, with 7% alcohol and a bigger wheelbarrow! It's like a regular smoker of Marlboro Reds storming into 7-11 demanding some cigs with more tar, thank you very much. Oddly enough, Sparks Plus seems to taste like it has less sugar than the traditional orange label, which makes it borderline disgusting, if not for the fact that once you have reached the point where a can of orange label isn't much different than a Diet Coke, you just need that extra kick, man. You might say that the gateway of alc/energy destruction goes a bit like this:

Coke Classic --> Pixy Stix --> Jolt Cola --> Red Bull --> Red Bull Vodka --> Sparks Orange --> Sparks Plus --> Never Sleeping Again