Soda Pop - 1421 Reviews

I'm pretty certain that the cartoon cat on this bottle may have been modeled after Mike. He's got the swimming trunks, the white shoes, the wrap around shades, it looks like he has a beard, and most importantly it has a look of complete apathy about what is happening around it. That cat is in a good place and it's not going to let outside factors ruin his time. It may take some work though because he appears to be drinking a bottle of this self same orange soda (which has a picture of him on it holding a bottle of the self same orange soda, so on and so forth). If I know this cat like I know Mike, then I can assure you this cat loves hot dogs (and writing over 100 songs about barbeques). I can only assume that he is about to eat half his body weight in hot dogs, and is planning on enjoying this soda to wash them down. Yes it is a scientific fact that orange soda is the perfect beverage to accompany hot dogs, read a book!

Mike cat is going to love those hot dogs. In fact he may go back for more to eat his entire body weight. He is going to be disappointed about his beverage selection though. Look, I've eaten a lot of hot dogs in my life, so it stands to reason that I have also drank a lot of orange soda. It's a fairly low quality flavor of pop. It doesn't give you much to work with, but you don't expect much and that is the beauty of it. DG has somehow managed to make generic orange pop taste off. It starts off just as you would expect it to, but then it fades into lemon-lime territory for some reason. I also feel like there is way more citric acid in each bottle than necessary. I hope Mike cat brought a backup because this isn't going to do what he needs to get done. Maybe he doubled up the DG and brought some of their tasty ginger beer.

For the four months or so that this has been sitting in my cupboard I thought that it was a "Weight Watchers" product. They have their own diet product line, don't they? Even if they don't, I always thought they did, and this was a gift from a friend who I believe ganked it from their mom's house. Now that I'm drinking this and I see that it's not Weight Watchers, I'm a bit disappointed. I don't need diet pop in my life, especially something that looks like it could be a store brand. If I had to review every low rent diet soda in the world, I would probably quit Thirsty Dudes. I don't have the taste buds for it. If I decided to stick it out and reviewed all of the diet orange soda in the world, I bet 99% of them would taste exactly the same. This can does not fall in that magical 1%. Sure it's nicely carbonated and it smells very orangey, but the fake orange flavor plays second fiddle to the gross death taste of Splenda. I don't know how people drink this stuff. I seriously believe that in 50 years they will find out that Splenda and other artificial sweeteners are way worse for you than actual sugar.

Dear Drain, Meet Diet Soda. I hope the two of you have a happy life together.

Dear Italy, Why have I never graced your shores? I feel like I have been nearby several times, but we never made the leap into the birthplace of pasta and organized crime. You are the home to many great things, and I think you deserve for me to visit and show some respect. I promise I will do so in the next few years. We'll have a quiet little date. We'll eat some real deal homemade pasta and sauce and you'll sip on a nice wine while I down glass after glass of the soda that is your namesake. I have to say that I may actually enjoy the soda more than your conversation. You know I don't speak Italian. I understand you're trying to make a point, but when I don't understand a thing you're saying the meaning you're trying to convey is lost. How about you just give in and speak English, just for a little while. The soda on the other hand speaks a language that everyone can understand (well except diabetic). It's the language of flavor. You Italy are more intelligent than most. You may have been the first to carbonate your juices, and didn't give up on the practice. You kept right on trucking. I assume that red oranges are the same as blood orange. If not they sure taste the same. It has a tarter, bolder orange flavor. It's the top of the evolution tree of oranges. They aren't going to get better than this. You took this miracle fruit and added just a little bit of sugar and some nice bubbles and you have something close to perfection.

It might be the soda talking, but you're looking pretty good tonight Italy. Oh you have a little bit of sauce on your cheek. No, not that side the other side. Down a little. To the right. Okay it's gone. Now you have some basil in your teeth....

It's over. It's finally over. Ladies and gentlemen, Christmas 2011 has come to a close. I for one couldn't be happier. I spent the last two days not in my house but about twenty-five miles in every other direction and also in my car. Look, I am not a grinch. Sure, I hate getting presents but that's mostly because I'm a piece of crap who doesn't deserve anything but at the same time is self-sufficient and if I want something, I'll work my butt off to get it. I'm terrible at receiving gifts for that reason and I know that I would be much happier if no one bought me anything. I asked for one thing this year and I got it. Do you know what it is? Whisky stones. I don't always put my drinks in the fridge and don't want to put my drinks in a glass with ice because the ice will melt and skew my drinking experience. Yes, a Thirsty Dudes item was the only item on my wish list. I don't at all feel spoiled because I got everything that I asked for because I go the whole year not asking for anything and therefore making it near impossible to buy for but do you know what? Back to square one; I don't deserve anything and if I want it, I'll buy it myself.

In continuance, I spent the last thirty-six hours in my car apparently just picking up nothing short of a million toys for my ten-month-old son who made out like a G.D. bandit on his first Christmas. Toys. Clothes. Food. The whole gamut. My car was filled to the brim with so much stuff that I took up space where the dogs were sitting and also had to leave stuff at my parent's house because the dogs simply wouldn't have had a place to go.

Exhausted after remove what seemed like ten thousand pounds of bags and boxes from my car, I was quite thirsty. I grabbed a can of Coca-Cola that Derek's daddy brought back from Thailand on a recent trip to do whatever the heck he does over there. I had the vanilla and it was great and I knew that the lemon was not going to be as good. I was right. It's not a good "right" when you win when something is worse and you know it. It was fine. It tastes like lemony Coke, but it didn't keep me coming back like it should have. So much, in fact, that when my girlfriend, hot on a cleaning purge, dumped half the can down the drain, I wasn't upset. I got what I needed for the review and who needs to drink a can of cola right before bed? Not me, friend.

Christmas is over. I think that deserves more fanfare than Christmas approaching. If your family got you lemon Coke, it won't go in the return pile, but it might win by a hair from the dreaded "re-gift" pile.

The search is complete. We found it. A Cascal that the whole family can enjoy, rather than their skunky, old tasting drink. Here we have a genuine work of art. It's light, fruity, and quite flavorful. Also, it doesn't taste the way a cold to hot to cold to hot to open beer smells. Right away you get some lemongrass, then the tangerine and pineapple dance playfully in your mouth like there's a hootenanny and this is the dirty South circa 1800's. It's got a little fermentation taste, but that is because, number one, it's fermented, and it aids in the intricacies of this drink.

This drink makes me keep faith that there will be more awesomeness to come out of the Cascal laboratory. I've got to hand it to them because their flavor pairings are different than just about every company on the market. They're trying something new and different and this one they got right. Good job team!

In Eastern Pennsylvania there is a small, but growing, subculture. They call themselves "Hillbilos." Their entire culture is based around two things; Music that is played on jugs, washbasins and saws that is rapped over and treating every member of the subculture as family. At the center of this group is the band the "Lunatic Miners Unit" or LMU for short. It is not uncommon for followers of this band, and lifestyle to paint their face with dirt and wear over-sized dirty overalls.

For some reason Hillbilos are obsessed with Day's soda. It's a staple of their diet, and for some followers it seems to be the only thing they ingest other than filth. They spray it all over each other at their hoedowns, and it's basically their only means of washing themselves. It's a strange site to behold and their culture seems to be spreading like wildfire throughout the northeast. Soon they will have infected the entire United States.

Yup, this is basically PA's version of Faygo. It's a fairly generic soda that comes in a whole slew of different flavors. It's pop in the carbonated sugar water sense. In this variety the vanilla aspect is fairly similar, and you don't really notice it until you think about what the straight up cherry flavored Day's soda would taste like. It unfortunately suffers from tasting vaguely like cough syrup. The soda companies of the world should really put together a lawsuit against the cough medicine companies. They have certainly ruined a perfectly good flavor for everyone. I really wanted this to be better than it was because the label is incredible looking. As it stands it's pretty average. I guess you shouldn't expect more for $.75 for a 24oz bottle.

Well. Great. Merry Christmas. Fantastic. Here I am, on stage, accepting this award for perfect attendance for my high school. One of two kids that got it. I don't necessarily do stupendous in class, but I do fair. I'm a B student. What do I get? A handshake and a bottle of pop from the principal. That seems strange to me. I guess I did spend all that time going to class. I deserve this pop.

Alright. Study hall. Second to last day of the year. I've got this strange Tiger Malt and I'm going to drink it. I can do what I want. I'm 17, there is one day of school left and I haven't missed a day. Down the hatch Tiger Malt. Ugh. What the heck is in this bottle? What are my taste buds doing to me? I've got to try this again. I have never felt anything like this before. It's revolting but yet so familiar. Bleh. Terrible. Did someone play a joke on me? Is there some sort of conspiracy against letting kids finish a school year without missing a day? This is going to put me in the hospital? Did someone liquefy and strain a bowl of Raisin Bran? It tastes like a stronger version of my Puerto Rican friend Joey's mom's favorite Malta Goya drink. I might barf. That's isn't going to look good on the floor or on my permanent record.

Lightly carbonated sugar water. I wanted this to taste like I was drinking an old ladies moisturizing lotion for some reason. When I want something, I want something. I didn't get any lavender at all. Alright, I might have got one from a burp, but that borderline doesn't count. It didn't have that awful bitterness that seltzer has, but it really just tastes like lightly sweetened carbonated water. I can't say anything else. I'm sorry. I wish this was rhubarb.

This is Harry Potter. No, I did not cast a spell on him and turn him into a bottle of root beer. This is the soda that lived. Allow me to start my story from the beginning.

I was just on tour with my friends' band and we stopped at Galco's Soda Pop Stop in Los Angeles, CA. I had wanted to go there for quite some time so I was very excited to be there. I hand picked a lot of sodas we hadn't reviewed and safely put them in a box in the van. I didn't have as much time on the road to review them as I thought I would, so my plan was to bring them all back to Buffalo. They were traveling great, until we got to Saskatoon.

Saskatoon is a small city in the province of Saskatchewan in the middle of Canada. When we got there, it was zero degrees outside (around -18 Celsius) in early December. The locals told us this was mild for that time of year. Immediately, Saskatoon became a place I will never visit again in the winter. We played the show, and then went to a friend's house to sleep. No one told us of the dangers of leaving a dozen glass soda bottles in the van overnight.

The next morning, we found all of my sodas frozen and the bottles shattered. Obviously, I was really bummed. We drove to a gas station to sadly throw them out. As we were doing so, we found one that wasn't frozen: this bottle of Bedford's Root Beer. I don't know what prevented it from freezing, but I was happy to see at least one survived.

I was expecting it to taste like the best root beer ever. I figured any drink that can withstand those extreme temperatures must be magical. Sadly, it wasn't that awesome. It was a good middle of the road root beer. But if you want a root beer that can withstand freezing temperatures, this is the one.

I've never hated A&W. I mean, it's root beer. It's really hard to hate root beer. Who also doesn't love aged vanilla? I actually don't know the taste difference between new, crisp vanilla and old, moldy vanilla. I do know that this is a smooth, lil' can of root beer that I would drink again. I enjoy these short stack cans and I enjoy slamming one without thinking twice about a calorie count.

This tastes like a slightly dark root beer and you can taste the vanilla. I don't know where Dan got this, but now that I've drank it, I'll probably see it everywhere like when you buy a car no one else owns and then, all of a sudden, everyone has one.

Editor Dan saw this and bought it for us. I was lucky enough to have won it in the raffle when we all got together. I am happy I won. I am happy that it was good. A&W should be happy that they did so well in this review. I have nothing bad to say about it. Real sugar would have gotten you a five in my book.

For the vision of a low calorie drink Cherry Republic has chosen to put a drawing of an orchard of cherry trees picked bear. I really don't get it. The regular version of it has a bear reaching for a tree branch in full bloom. I think they may be hinting that drinking diet soda that has artificial sweeteners is similar to the dead cold winter.

I am not a fan of saccharine or aspartame at all, but I have to hand it to Cherry Republic, you can sure taste a quality soda underneath that fake sweetness. There is a delicious cherry cream soda that is being suppressed by an army of little grains of gross sweetener. You can actually taste the real cherry juice in here, which is something that doesn't normally happen (if ever) with a diet soda. I can only imagine that if you were used to drinking diet pop that this would be a holy grail of sorts.

On a side note, these come in reusable bottles. Not just recyclable, but reusable. If you return it to its point of origin they will wash it out and refill it for future use. Now that is something I can totally get behind.

With Xmas rapidly approaching little Bobby grew more nervous by the second. While other kids his age were ecstatic about all the presents that were about to be gifted upon them, Bobby suffered from a deep-set fear of his family dinner on the 25th of December. It wasn't that his family was crazy (they were), or that they were prone to squabble over the most trivial of things (they would). His nausea stemmed from the fact that he knew that he would not be able to leave the table until he finished all of his cranberry sauce: the quivering gelatinous mound of bitterly sweet garbage that passed as food only on holidays. Last year he sat at the table until 2:30 on the morning before he was able to get it all down. Ugh. In order to better acclimate himself with the taste of this garbage he had begun drinking a class of cranberry juice every day. Each 24-hour period would result in him sneaking a tiny glass from his mom's stash and forcing it down his throat. After a couple of days he was actually okay with it. It had a weird taste but once he got used to it, he even liked it a little. One would think that he would be ready for the big day, but he knew in his heart of hearts that a glass of Ocean Spray was in reality no comparison to the maroon mound that would be set before him.

His aunt was visiting a couple of days before the holiday to help his mom set everything up. She was the cool aunt. You know the kind that doesn't have any kids of her own. They listen to cool music, maybe have a piercing or two. That was aunt Jeanie. She could sense something was up with Bobby, so she cornered him and asked what was up. He told her his fear, and she said not to worry and that they were going for a little adventure. They jumped in her crappy car covered in stickers of bands that no one who wasn't a teenager during the 90's even remembered and drove to Whole Foods. She didn't say a word, and only bought a single bottle of soda. She poured it into an old Taco Bell cup and handed it to Bobby and told him to drink up. He loved it! It was amazing! It was sweet, fruity and nicely carbonated. After his praise slowed down, Aunt Jeanie showed him the bottle. It was Kristall Cranberry soda. She then told him to take another sip and think of the cranberry sauce they were going to be eating in a few days time. Didn't it taste exactly the same, except with some bubbles? As much as he wanted to deny this claim Bobby looked up to his aunt too much to lie to her. She had him this did taste like cranberry sauce, but how was this good and the sauce like a "festering bowl of dog snot?" She told him to just close his eyes and think of this pop when he was eating his dinner. That's just what he did, and you know what? It was still completely disgusting. Bobby realized the problem with cranberry sauce wasn't the flavor. It was that godforsaken texture. He managed to scarf it down by 10PM that night, but he really couldn't wait until he was old enough to prepare his own plate of food on Xmas so he could skip it altogether.

Wh...Where am I? Why am I wearing this suit? Why does this suit have shoulder pads?

I sentence you...

Hold on a minute. Aren't you Judge Wapner?

That's right son, the one and only.

Holy crap! Am I on The Peoples' Court?

Yes, I have brought you back to 1984 to punish you for your wrongdoings. I would also have to ask you to watch your mouth on national television.

I'm sorry. Wait...wrongdoings? What did I do?

It says here that you are from West Virginia. Is that correct?

Yes it is, your honor.

It also says that in 1975, you put a Pembroke Welsh Corgi in a baby carriage. Is that correct?

Wait...what? 1975? That was thirty-six years ago. I have no idea. I would have been like six years old.

It's a simple question, sir. Did you, regardless of year, place a dog in a carriage? Yes or no?

I suppose, when I was a child, I may have, at one point in time, put a dog in a baby carriage, yes.

Well sir, in the state of West Virginia, you may only place a baby in a baby carriage and nothing else. Since you have admitted guilt, I will go easy on you. As I was saying when you woke up from time travel, I sentence you to drink my root beer!

Oh, come on! That's not...wait...drink root beer?

That's right. Drinking my root beer is your harsh punishment for such a heinous crime.

Oh, well. I suppose I could do that. Can I go back to my house in 2011 once I'm done with this bottle of root beer?

Yes, I have the lever right here that will send you home. All you have to do is drink this entire bottle of root beer.

Fair enough. Here goes. It's not that bad, Judge. It's herby, kind of a medium-dark root beer. It tastes home brewed. Did you brew this yourself?

Yes, son. I did. Do you like it?

I do, actually. Can I get this in 2011? If so, I might just periodically pick one up.

Son, you have earned a parole. I will cut your sentence in half. You only need to drink half that bottle and then you can go home.

Oh, awesome. Well you can pull that lever. I'm already over half way done. If you don't mind, I'd like to finish this when I wake up from my time travel slumber.

That's fine. Stand on that box and I will send you back. As soon as I bang this gavel, and simultaneously pull this switch, you will be sent back to your time. Thank you for spending time with us, doing your time like a responsible adult, and enjoying my root beer.

You're welcome, Judge. It's been a pleasure. Thank you.

This root beer has one of my favorite labels ever. It's simple and classic looking. I would expect it to be the design on a wine bottle, and as we all know wine labels are generally the coolest looking of all drinks (even though they smell like literal death). That little guy is so excited to crack open his root beer. Perhaps there was an amendment to the constitution or some such thing and they are have a little celebratory party. Sure they have plenty of alcohol, but Chowning has had this special bottle of root beer put away, and he's been dying to bust it out. Seriously imagine how strong a root beer would have to be back then, especially one that is stopped with a cork (I'm sure all root beer was cork stopped back then).

The label also talks about boiling down roots and other ingredients to make a quality root beer. Mike and I tried making root beer like that once. We boiled it all down and it tasted pretty fantastic. Something went wrong in the carbonation though and an army of yeast soldiers invaded my mouth and I realized our wonderful brew was ruined. I'm guessing Old Dominion didn't really boil this down, as two of the ingredients are "root beer extract #214" and "root beer extract #79-400." I don't know what those numbers mean, but I'd love to find out. There is yucca, and vanilla in here though as well as honey for a sweetener (something that will always get a thumbs up from me). The blend tastes somewhere in the middle of a decent "root beer syrup" and a quality brewed from scratch soda. The first couple of sips were a bit disappointing, but the closer I got to the bottom of the bottle the stronger it became. I guess there was some settling of the ingredients.

While this may not 100% be an old boiled/brewed root beer from colonial times, it still beats most other brands that are commonly found. I'm sure everyone at the party enjoyed it quite a lot, while Chowning silently sulked, for he knew the greatness that it came so close to being.

It's simple math folks. Triple XXX = "XXX XXX XXX." It's like kids who first get into the straight edge culture and over compensate with a million X's everywhere. My friends and I were dumb like that when we were younger. I understand it. I'm also older now and I don't feel a need to put a single X on anything let alone a couple dozen. Even though that is true I have to admit that the triple X on this bottle made the memory of 16 year old me a little giddy. When I used to go to parties everyone would be drinking beer, and I'd be drinking root beer. Even though I'm 99.9999% sure this company has no ties to any subculture (It was originally made by a family owned restaurant) I'd like to pretend that it's embracing straight edge. It also got me excited that the bottle claims it "Tastes like root beer used to taste."

The label leaves much to be desired, so even though I liked the idea of this root beer my hopes were pretty low. If this bottle were a CD it looks like it would go straight to the "cut out bin." My mom was right. Looks can be deceiving. This is a pretty darn good root beer. It has an IBC-esque flavor, but darker and bolder. I think it falls somewhere between lower level fancy root beer and some real deal cowboy brew. It's got a somewhat decent bite and a nice vanilla aftertaste, which is a nice pleasant surprise. Now excuse me. I need to find my extras thick Sharpie, so I can draw some huge X's on my hand and dance around my room like an idiot to some terrible bands from the 90's.

Since the 1890's the Van Helsing family has hunted the ever-elusive vampire Vlad the Impaler. He was the most feared man in the eastern block until it came out that he was not a man at all. When people realized his lack of humanity they began referring to him only as Dracula the lord of the undead.

It is not the 21st century and Ludwig Van Helsing (his mother was a fan of classical music) has finally tracked down Dracula to a remote town in Upstate New York. It is now his turn to go face to face with the ruler of the undead just as each of his male ancestors have in the past (In Bram Stoker's novel it claims that Abraham Van Helsing slayed the dark one, but that is nothing but a conspiracy to cover up the truth to keep the towns people calm. It was typical of politicians of the time.). It mid June and it's a nice warm day. The sun is shining and Ludwig takes that as a good sign. He parks his rental car at the front gate and walks up to the door of the mansion. He rings the bell, but no one answers. It's probably for the best, anyways his Intel informed him that there is a cave around back and that is where Dracula slumbers during the daylight hours. Ludwig digs around the piles of Burger King and Arby's wrappers in his back seat and produces a crossbow. He thinks it's kind of stupid, but the retro look of it is kinda bitchin'. He walks around the yard, waving to the neighbor next door who's mowing his lawn, and finds himself at the entrance of the cave. Ludwig is pretty much resigned to the fact that this is where he dies. I mean every male of his family has met the reaper under similar circumstances, but whatever this planet is going down the turlet anyways. If The Impaler doesn't get him, he'll probably end up with cancer or AIDS in the next year anyways. With that thought he stepped into the darkness.

About 100 feet inside the mouth of the cave Ludwig came upon a large wooden door. It looked as if he would never be able to open it himself, but with one small shove it flew open. You have to hand it to the prince of darkness; he sure doesn't let his property fall into disrepair. Inside the room was a smaller room that was built out of black steel, with what appeared to be elevator doors on it. Ludwig pushed the button and the doors slid open exposing what appeared to be the world's most comfortable bed. Ludwig momentarily forgot his charge and just lost himself thinking about taking a little nap. In the middle of the bed was Lord Dracula with a nice lacy sleep mask on, Ludwig slowly crept towards the bed, careful not to make a sound. Just as he was about a foot away he stepped on a remote control and Miley Cirus' "Party in the USA" started blaring from the stereo system. Oddly enough Dracula just rolled over. I guess a couple of hundred year of being undead really makes you a sound sleeper. Ludwig shrugged, pointed his crossbow and put and arrow right through the vampire's heart. Dracula screamed, exorbitant amounts of blood shot out of his chest and then he and all his fluids burned up, like he never existed. "Huh." was all Ludwig could say. It was way easier than he ever would have imagined.

His whole life had been built around stalking and then being killed by Dracula, and now that it was over and he was still alive he was completely unprepared. So he ended up moving into Dracula's house. There wasn't much inside except cases of empty bottles marked "Dracula's Blood." He didn't want to put them to the curb in the recycling bins for fear that the local homeless would then constantly rummage through his trash looking for more returnables. Instead he took up the hobby of making soda pop, and used the bottles to hold his wares. What else was he going to do, get a job? I think not. Since the bottles said "Dracula's Blood" already he decided to make a strawberry soda. It didn't turn out as well as he would have hoped. Here he was with all these rad looking bottles, with a sup par soda to fill them. He guessed it kind of tasted like strawberries, but it was more of a generic soda flavor with a generic berry undertone to it. The closer you got to the bottom the stronger the flavor became, but what good is it to have a few sips be tasty when over half the bottle be extremely disappointing. The town folks all laughed at him. Sure he had killed the father of the undead, but he still couldn't make a high quality soda. They didn't hesitate to remind him that you're only as good as your last achievement. Man he should have just given up after committing monster homicide.

There are many things in my life that I could do without. I could do without ever hearing the Robert Palmer cover of T-Rex ever again. I could do without taking a bite of the sandwich I made in the dark only to discover from taste that the roll is moldy. I could also do without having to pay rent and bills (I got out of it for over a year and I liked the way that freedom tasted). One thing that I am slowly learning that I cannot do without is sugar in my soda. I know it's terrible for you in pretty much every way, but it just tastes so much better to me. I've tried going the diet route or the unsweetened route and they just are not for me. If it's something you can stomach and actually enjoy more power to you. I wish I was in your shoes, but unfortunately I'm not.

Sans is not a soda that is marketed towards people like me, but I will say it is better than most diet pops. I would choose stevia over aspartame any day. It has a true orange scent to it, which is more than most regular pops give you. At first it's not so bad. A couple of sips and I thought that I would actually enjoy this whole can. It tastes somewhere between a traditional orange soda and something like Orangina. Unfortunately, the further in you get the more of the sweetener you taste. The orange flavor lessens and it tastes more like the coolness of stevia.

I didn't enjoy this beverage very much, but it is also the best diet orange soda I've ever had, so given that it has a handicap I'll give it a better rating. If you're into diet definitely give Sans a try.

Come on, Jennifer, really? More makeup? You just bought some perfume from here and lipstick, and I think your aunt got you that eyeliner set. What more could you want? Nail polish? You bite your nails! What's the point? Ugh, fine, let's go, but I'm going to sit in the "dad seat." The “dad seat?” The dad seat is that one bench where dads and boyfriends sit while their girlfriends smell hair gel and test bath salts.

Hey, I'm just going to sit here by the door. Take your time. I'll be playing Fruit Ninja on my phone. You know how I love it when that freeze banana comes in. I'm sorry, what did you say, ma'am? A drink? Now you're talking my language. I'll take a sip. Oh, this is kind of strange and kind of gross. What is it? It's the essence of everything you see? That's vague. Oh, in this makeup store. Yeah, not that you mention it, this drink tastes like it smells in here mixed with some lemonade. What is this called? Oh, it's made by Jones? Berry Lemonade? Really? I guess it's vaguely raspberry lemonade, but there is still the liquid version of this store in here. I won't be buying any, but thank you and good job capturing your fine establishment into a drink. Honey, let's get out of here. That dad that was sitting next to me just ate a bean burrito and now I want one almost as bad as I don't want to feel the after effects of his.

When I read the review that Liz Prince wrote for us for Big Red I was kind of shocked. I was almost positive that I had tried this soda before and that I really liked it. I remembered it tasting like Crush's red cream soda. After the review came out the company sent us a couple of bottles of their throwback version that is made with cane sugar. It sat in my cupboard for a while, but I decided to finally drink it tonight. After a single sip I knew I was mistaken and that I had never drank this before. There is no way that I would forget that weird bubble gum/7Up flavor. I certainly am not a fan. I don't normally like bubble gum flavored sodas to begin with, but this was worse than most. It has a very sudden gum flavor that quickly fades away into a lemon lime type of flavor that fades into something that I can only compare to when the ratio of syrup to soda water is off in a fountain machine. All of that plus it's way more sugary than your average soda pop. On top of that it randomly has caffeine in it. I didn't realize that until I forced myself to drink half the bottle. I had already decided I wasn't going to finish it, due to the taste, but that's set in stone now because of the caffeine. It's a little late and I'm a man who likes to actually sleep well in the winter.

I agree with Mrs. Prince; this stuff is garbage. Texas you have done us wrong. Why don't you just stick to making iced tea? You do an outstanding job with that. Leave the soda making to the northerners.

With a label like this one would think that this soda would be incredible. It looks so classic and classy. One would be slightly wrong. It's not incredible. It's merely average.
It tastes like an everyday store brand ginger ale, but with a nice aftertaste burn. The thing is that I don't believe the burn is actually from ginger, as it's not listed on the ingredients. I believe it's actually the sodium benzoate that causes that reaction. It feels different than a ginger burn, and it's not as strong. If I had never had a ginger beer before I would probably be pretty stoked on this, but since I've had a lot of the good stuff this just doesn't cut it.