Mike Literman - 1759 Reviews

False advertising. I call shenanigans on this bag of tea. I might go as far as say that this tea is a liar and I don't use that phrase lightly. This smells like it would make a good tea but don't be fooled. This tea is the push-up bra of tea. You go in for a sip and it's almost bitter. I've had Bigelow stuff before and it's not bad. It's not high quality tea but I don't care. It's fine. I actually have an Earl Gray at home that I really like. This is just lipstick on a pig. It doesn't really taste anything like cinnamon and if I had to stretch it, which I will, it's as if you had a cup of black tea and put a cinnamon stick in it for a couple seconds. I'm sure that's where they get the name "cinnamon stick" from but they should have let that little buddy marinate for a little bit longer because if it did anything, it ruined everything.

Frozen hot chocolate is a real "stickin' it to the man" drink. It's as if Tim Horton's is saying, "Screw you, winter. You've pestered us long enough. Now look what we've done to your precious cold weather staple drink. How does that feel? Not good, right? Yeah. Now you know how we felt after your sub-zero temperatures. This is for all the times I had to scrape ice off my car windows while the temperature was in the negatives."

This drink is the eye-for-an-eye that you see in movies where the bad guy has at the good guy's partner and then, at the end, the good guy turns the tables and has a little fun with the bad guy until the cops come. The cops come, know the whole situation, pretend not to see the good guy hit the bad guy's hand with a hammer and then tells the good guy to hit the road and takes the bad guy off to jail.

I have to be honest here; I've already had two of these. They're that good. It's super creamy because they put half a pound of rich, chocolate whipped cream on top, which ends up melding in with the frosty treat beneath and smoothing the whole thing out. If you could envision what a chocolate mousse drink would taste like, this is it. They also put what they probably call "fudge" in it but is really only chocolate syrup. I'm not dismissing their efforts, but that's not fudge. Either way, everything mixed together or intentionally separated upon ordering is a delight that could be anyone's guilty pleasure because it's abominably terrible for you but seriously, you couldn't guess that something with a mound of rich chocolate whipped cream on it is going to be bad for you? Shame on you.

I'm feeling stressed. I need to calm down. There is too much going on. I've got to slow down and worry less. I have to stop being so critical. I have to take a breath. I have to breathe. Breathe. In and out. Do it. Do it again. In and out. Alright...I'm OK. I need a drink. What've we got here? Cream soda? That's as smooth as I want to be. Let's have at that.

Hmm. Not too bad. What is this? Oh. Honey cream. Cool. Take a sip here...I read that, right? Honey cream. Alright. Round two. Perhaps the cream of it all is overshadowing the honey because I can hardly taste it. It's good cream soda but it's not great honey cream soda. I wish that it were. Let's...yeah...let's go in for round three. Why not? I can do what I want in these fifteen minutes of pleasure I have for myself. Not a lot of honey going on at all. Good cream. Poor honey.

Welp, there goes my fifteen minutes. It comes and it goes every day like the blink of an eye. Back to work. Back to the grind. Back to my thirties being a blur of clichès and redundancies. Such is life I suppose.

Hawaii, man. Reason why it's so expensive to live there is because they're doing stuff right. They've only got what they've got on the island and everything that isn't indigenous probably is a super hassle to get there. But, the stuff they've got on the islands is awesome. This tea, for instance, is right. It's bitter from the green tea and ginseng but is sweet because of that sweet, sweet Hawaiian cane sugar. Oh to spend a half hour in one of those cane sugar farms...I would walk out with my own personal stalk and just enjoy life until my teeth fell out.

Come on, Continental United States. Get on it. Little Hawaii is getting stuff right and you're mucking it up with your garbage preservatives and diet nonsense. I'll pay a little more if you just drop all this penny pinching garbage and make something with quality. We deserve it. You've been making swill for too long and I'm about to just hand in my "land lubber" card and move to Hawaii and live off the land. Nothing but Spam, high fiving Duane Chapman at Chili's and this iced tea for me. Aloha Hawaii and peace out, New York.

You've got Brisk, aka, the worst "iced tea" money can buy, right? Let's all be civil about this and just come together and agree on this one thing. You've got Israel and Palestine, which no one can agree on. That's fine. I think they call that a "stalemate" right? An unwinable situation. Brisk is cut and dry. Black and white. You've got that. We have to live in this world and lets call it like it is.

You've got Brisk. You mix brisk with lemonade and cherry and you get...drumroll...a weak cherry lemonade juice conglomerate. It's not terrible and it's actually better the more room temperature it gets. Maybe that's the problem I've been having all these years is that I like a nice, cold iced tea and I've been giving myself these things that my body craves but with Brisk, it's the opposite. I should be drinking it like I drink a hot chocolate. Sounds completely unrefreshing but who knows? This, once lukewarm, loses the bite that Brisk has and you can taste some cherry and some lemonade. I should put those in quotes. Let's try that again. It tastes like "cherry" and "lemonade." It's like an artist depiction of those flavors. It tastes like a cherry and like lemonade but isn't one of those things. It's close. If you could have something taste a fraction of what it tastes like, that's what this is. It's not weak, it just doesn't taste like what it's "supposed" to taste like.

There has been a lot of quoting in this. Maybe this whole thing is an art installation. I'm waiting for someone to come in wearing sweater shorts and no shirt with a noose around their neck that says something like "Mother" and music plays that is nothing but someone yelling, "Father." Am I plagiarizing someone's art exhibit? If so, you should stop being an artist and pursue something else, like customer service or call center operator.

Mocha: the adult version of chocolate milk. This is a pretty inarguable fact if you ask me, which you won't. What? I'm just being honest. Also, what's to ask? Mocha is coffee, sure, but it's also chocolate, which super negates the adulthood of coffee. Sure, adults eat chocolate and there is nothing childish about it but something about mixing the two together makes it some sort of "kid in a grown up's body." This is the equivalent of the late, great Mitch Hedberg's joke, "Fettuccine Alfredo is macaroni and cheese for adults."

This is good, though. It's good at sharing between the coffee and chocolate and the sweetness is a good, short-lived thing. You don't really get a lot of these canned coffee drinks that are too bad but this is one of the better mocha ones I've had. Still is a bit different than the ones you would get at a coffee shop but it's probably the milk that is used there is "real" versus the milk that is in here which somehow defies science and all refrigeration standards. This goes back and forth between coffee to chocolate to coffee again and that's a nice trip.

For the youth (silent "H") in you, have a mocha. If you want to stop being so stuffy with your ties and tie clips and cufflinks and slacks, have a mocha. Mocha, for those who aren't ready to grow up. Mocha, to prove that you're still "Cool." Mocha, a drink for those who still really like video games but have trouble waking up in the morning. Mocha, for those you who think that as an adult you have to go to coffee shops but don't like coffee. Mocha, for everyone.

Look out! The moose is loose!! I don't know what to do. Climb on the kitchen table like a 50's housewife. That can't hurt. Can moose climb chairs? They can?! Oh man. Here they come? Close your eyes!!! I love you honey. This is it. AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Are...are they gone? Are we alive? What just happened? Is that a basket on the counter? What's in there? Canned chocolate milk? With a moose on it? Did that moose come in here and leave a basket of chocolate milk with a friggin' moose on it? What nice animals. Moving forward, I dare you to not think of all moose are angels. Let's have a crack at this stuff to celebrate living through that moose attack, shall we?

Hmm. You know, we've agreed that those moose are alright guys but this drink is alright in the most mediocre of terms. It's strangely thick and, yeah sure, it's chocolaty but it's like weird, powdery chocolate milk. It tastes like it might be watered down, too. Not only that, but it unfortunately doesn't have any mousse-like qualities. I wouldn't expect it to other than the fact that the drink is called "Chocolate Moose" like it would be a play on words.

Honey, moose are our friends. Those great felt antlers. Great, nay, majestic animals. Their choice of drink needs work.

Look at you with your designer jeans and sunglasses that cost as much as a months rent. You are so cool, you and your fancy Italian loafers with matching tie and Spider Veloce. You're so cool. Well look at me. Sure I dress like I have for the last twenty years but I'm cool, too, right? I'm drinking two cool things; espresso and coconut water. Those are cool things, right? It's important to be cool. It's how we put ourselves on imaginary pedestals. This is good stuff, too. I might not have the finer things like those dope brown kid leather driving gloves that beautifully match your wooden steering wheel and stick shift. This drink though brother, this drink is smooth and only half tastes like coconut. The coffee isn't totally too strong like you might like it in your Italian mind with your glorious hair. Look, bro. I'll say it. I don't care. You've got great hair. Try this, dude. No, I'm'a call you "dude" right? You're talking to me and I'm going to talk to you like you're talking to me. This is a good drink. I don't know what kind of standards you are used to but seriously this is good. You know what? I'm done. No. I'm done with you. You and your beautiful tight fade and tight beard. Peace, bruh. You are an elitist. I'm trying to share with you and you're being a real jerk. Now I'm the elitist. Peace.

Look. I might catch some flak for this but this tastes like something that someone would make and drink on a dare. As I was reading through the ingredients, I saw "apple cider vinegar" and I knew that something was going to be up with this guy. Everything else in here sounds like it might make a cool drink, though; maple syrup, lemon juice, ginger root and molasses. Awesome right? Well kiss the promise of a decent drink goodbye because vinegar is here to stay and ruin your fun like some sort of cloud on a sunny day. Two sips in. I quit. This might be where we came from, but we have progressed from this. Enjoy things from the past like architecture, cave drawings, and classic cars. Leave stuff like this in the past where it belongs with its friends the black plague, building pyramids by hand and JNCO Jeans.

Oh the mid-day slumps. On a gorgeous Friday evening after a seemingly endless winter, it's in the sixties outside and my body is craving the vitamin D that only doctor sun can prescribe my pale, pale skin. These Vemma drinks have been pretty good to us but this one is ravaging my poor body. It's fine. It's my fault. I only sparingly drink coffee or energy drinks but this one hit me really fast and really hard. Once again, I'm not counting this against them and you, as an energy drink drinker (working title) might like that instant jolt. Since I've covered half of this drink, the other half, proud residents of Coffeetown, need their fill. As a coffee drink it's oddly smooth and even though cane sugar is the primary sweetener, or at least the one towards the top of the list, that Reb A is shining through. It's not bad, but it's in there and you know it. I had to search for it in the rather long list of ingredients. I think Vemma is trying to make this healthier than "the other guys" but putting mangosteen, aloe vera, and green tea in there but what you get is an oddly smooth, pretty sweet, coffee flavored drink. Is it a lose? No. Is it a bad? No. It's just kind of "fine" because it's so much going on. Satin sheets seem like a good idea until you have to sleep in them and they keep getting kicked off you by your dumb lover, am I right? That's what this is. This drink is your idea of a sexy sheet but the realization that it's too much to handle.

A disastrous discovery is that Popeye's chicken is fantastic. We've had commercials for Popeye's for years but just got one where we live about two months ago and...it...is...always...packed. We have for as long as human record can recall, had Kentucky Fried Chicken. This is not a KFC versus Popeye's debate. That is reserved for a delicious dinnertime competition. This is a one-on-none competition between Popeye's sweet tea and nothing.

This drink should not join the list of "things that will or could kill me" down the list past "get stabbed in the back" which will be how I die. This is sweet tea, man. Sweet, delicious, cane sugar'd sweet tea. No jokes and not lies. It's thick but still have the remnants of the tea, which is kind of surprising.

It's so dangerous that this is so close. This could be bad news. This is so good.

I do not know what lilikoi is but whatever it is I bet it pairs wonderful with some Spam. I have also never been to Hawaii but Jay has, so fifty percent of the Thirsty Dudes know what it's like to come off a plane and wear a lei. Do they still do that? I hope so.

This tastes like something Dog the Bounty Hunter would have secret cases of. I also mean that in the best possible way. This is slightly floral but pretty sweet. I can't place it but it kind of tastes like the sensation you get from Zotz when they start to erupt in your mouth much like Mauna Loa. It's actually good enough for me to lose track and drink the whole bottle, something that I rarely do with an entire bottle of pop by my lonesome.

Hawaii, I hope to get lost inside of you one day but not anywhere close to where Dog runs because those joints look sketchy.

You get that itch that says, "You need something else, man. Get it." and you know what you have to do. Your body arises from its seat, which has held the weight of your body for too long and you begin walking, as if asleep out the door. You get to your destination having no recollection of how you got there and before you know it, you are ordering a smoothie from the window. You shake your head to wake yourself out of the haze you are in and you wake up with a pineapple and blueberry smoothie sitting in a "leather" chair next to a "fire" inside of a fine new establishment filled with employees who want to be anywhere but there and patrons that want to be anywhere but home. As you take your first sip you realize that everything is fine and fades away like smoke from a freshly blown out candle. This is a cold, fruity smoothie that your body craved and didn't give you the opportunity to deny. The blueberry pokes his head out more than the shy pineapple even though it would have been better the other way around. The mix itself is thick and cold and comes out almost tubular through the straw until it melts on your tongue. The seeds and grit and grime of the natural fruit add to the pleasing texture of the drink.

As you take your final sips, the outside world comes into focus and you realize that no more than fifteen minutes have passed and you are a block from work. You just needed a break from the monotony of making other people money. You earned it. Now you have to get back to work.

Even the dastardly scientists at Swamp Pop couldn't save this orange pop. It is, and will forever be, an untamable beast. The "junkyard dog" of flavors, orange pop will always be just orange pop. It's fine. They didn't do a bad job and it's cleaner and less syrupy than a lot of the other orange pops I've had but at the end of the day, if a hot dog isn't in my hand and sunglasses on my head, it's not time for orange pop. Sure, it's not limited to backyard hootenannys but regardless of the case, I'm left with a bottle or can of the same, half full container of the same-ish orange liquid. Sorry everyone and especially sorry to Swamp Pop who had until this point, earned near perfect marks. This is your "C" to keep you humble.

Apple juice. It's apple juice. It's good, too. It's good apple juice. What I'm drinking is good apple juice. No sugar. All apples. Just apple juice.

I don't think I've ever eaten a guava, like a real guava off a tree. Why would I see one of those as they are not indigenous to Buffalo? Sure I could have taken a trip somewhere but I've only been "out West" once and they most certainly don't have Guava in Las Vegas. Do they have them in Florida? I'm going there next month. Maybe I'll make it my task to find one. I don't have anything else to do. When I get it, I'll try and compare it to a drink that I would have drank a month ago at that point. What does it taste like now? Well friend, I'll tell you.

As far as nectars go, this is not the way I like it. I like my nectars with some grip in there. That's right. I like a nice, sandy juice. It just lets me know that things are happening. Grit aside, this is a good juice. It doesn't taste too sweet and is basically just water, sugar and guava so why would it. No fake sweeteners or additives. Just good, old fashioned fruit juice. Give this to your kids. Don't accept any substitutes; only the finest for your little brat.

Bananas. Jay and I abhor bananas. We cannot let it sway our vote but if we could it would be more 1's like you would find in a single's speed dating convention. Because we are professionals we cannot judge based on our hatred for the fruit. Let it be known, though, for the record, we hate bananas. Now off to the races and off to the review.

This will not stop being tangy. It's sharp and tangy. I suppose you'll get that with a yogurt smoothie drink. Yogurt is not really tangy but remember the first time you had Greek yogurt and you were like, "Man, did I just drink mini razors? This is sharp." and then you eat more of it and you say, "Oh, that's not too bad. Maybe I do like Greek yogurt." This is like that first taste of Greek yogurt again and again. It's a bit distracting if I can be honest which is what you're paying me for. The fruit flavor is shared pretty evenly. Good mango taste and, if you like banana, this tastes like bananas. You know what else? It tastes like someone crushed up Smarties and spiked this drink. Maybe that's where the tang and/or zip is coming from.

We've had a lot of fun here today, haven't we? We've learned about the cons of speed dating, how I hate bananas, and the review which you came to read. You know what? I'll expect my check in the mail.

Jay and I are constantly and forever in cahoots. We were talking about how everything we've been drinking has been good but it's been pretty tame. Now we're talking. Now we've got chunks and mango and realistic flavors and something from Malaysia.

Still, man, after doing this for as long as I've been doing it, I just can't seem to figure out how companies could get Americans to drink chunky drinks like it's no big deal. Asia's got that under wraps, man. They love chunks and hats off to them because they're on top for that reason. It's a totally different dimension that us American turds just don't get.

I mean it, chunks. Chunks of real fruit. Sugar to keep the natural flavor of the mango and said mango tasting fine. If you ate a mango you very intricately crushed up into a glass, this would be it. Simple, chunky, different, delicious. Adjectives son, adjectives.

Buying this drink made me realize one thing; I don't know how to order coffee. Dunkin' Donuts comes out with this new line of ice cream flavored iced coffee and people, much like me, are lured in. People, much like me, who don't order coffee line up around the corner like Bruce Springsteen tickets went on sale and it's 1987, in anticipation of new drinks.

I go to the little window and order a cookies and cream and the man says, "How do you want it?" to which I not very eloquently and with complete lack of knowledge of how coffee works, "I don't know. However it comes." to which I am challenged with that worst possible response, "It comes however you order it." and I sigh since there is nothing left inside of me as that response might has well have punched me in the stomach in which to knock all the air out and I say, "I don't know. One cream and one sugar." which passed the test and I was on my way.

Now I handled the cup from the little window on down to my cup holder and when I brought my hand back up, it smelled wonderful. It smelled like I was a kid and idiotically put my hands in ice cream. I looked forward to this drink. I got to work and started to drink. Something I must have left in the car was the flavor of this drink because it certainly was not in the cup. Did it jump out? Did it evaporate? Did they forget to put it in the cup and only put some on the outside of the cup? Who knows for sure but what I tasted and what I smelled were two different things. The contents of the cup were nothing more than an iced coffee that you could get anywhere. Yeah, it was good, but it wasn't anything that a regular iced coffee isn't. I assume they did everything right but this tastes nothing like I wanted or expected. What do I know besides gaining the sad knowledge of learning that I don't know how to order coffee like an adult and that when I drink coffee, I get awful shakes and probably shouldn't be drinking the stuff in the first place? Nothing, for I am truly and imbecile. I might as well put my hands in ice cream because I am no smarter than my dumb three year old son.

They taketh away and they giveth back. They recently closed my Arby's. Tears streaming down my face, right? Swimming in a sea of my salty sadness, I dealt with my loss of a local Jamocha shake. As soon as I shook it like a love lost, Dunkin' Donuts twists the knife and releases this guy and they do it well.

I don't know about "ice cream flavors" unless you're got very refined tastes but that's what this was released under the collection "Ice Cream Flavors." Cookie Dough and Butter Pecan yes. I have had those ice creams. Jamocha Almond Fudge Swirl sounds like a great ice cream that just doesn't exist yet. That being said I've got a small iced coffee version of it inside of me and am pleased to say that it can stay as long as it wants because it was rather great. Good coffee taste but well rounded by the chocolate and/or fudge. The almond I couldn't really get but I didn't miss it. Sure I love almonds and if I died today, the mortician would say, "Man, I can't believe that Dunkin' Donuts just kept stabbing him but this kid sure did eat a lot of almonds. Also here are all the pennies that he ate as a kid that didn't get digested. There is thirteen cents in here. Here, Tom, we'll split it since you're holding his ribcage open and have earned your cut."

A small was enough. Anyone who gets a larger one clearly doesn't know what a vegetable is and should be both mentally and physically evaluated.