Mike Literman - 1759 Reviews

You know what, Mr. Waitress; I'm sick and tired of this. I come here day after day and I don't know why. You always get my order wrong, all of the wait staff has a terrible attitude and the pop is usually flat. I got one exceptional meal here and I won't give this place up because I feel that one day it will be that good again. It hasn't been. I've been keeping my mouth shut for months now but this is the last straw.

The only think I asked for is sweet tea and you only have diet. It's not awful, but it's half way to really diet tasting. To make matters worse, you only had enough for half a glass. Now what am I going to do with this. I just filled up on crackers and I am exceptionally thirsty. Mix it with something? What do you propose? Lemonade? Who do I look like, Arnold freakin' Palmer. Yeah, sure. Lemonade me up.

Oh, and another thing. I can't stand...when...the thing is...I...I...I'm sorry. I've had a rough day and all I wanted was a Black and Blue burger. When you brought me a bacon burger, it was half the straw that broke the camel's back. The half diet lemonade was now the savior because this isn't half bad. Sure, it's still a little diet, but the lemonade saves it. It tastes like "kid-made" lemonade. This might be some of the best diet half and half I've ever had.

You, my good sir, have done it. "Done what" you ask? You have roped me into coming here again and again now that you gave me this. It's redeeming. Please, sir. I just ask you one more simple thing. Do you have any more chocolate cream pie? I saw it on your specials board. You don't. Well, how about that. Let down again. You'd better have this concoction in here next time I come or I'm really going to make a stink!

Carmen hates to take his vitamins so his mom decided to do it the dumbest way possible; make a game out of it. Some parents say something like "You don't get any dessert if you don't take your vitamins." You could do the old fashioned "Go to your room until you're ready to take your vitamins." or something along those lines. It doesn't need to be punishment, either. It could just be something kids have to do. "Look kid. Do you want brittle bones, weak joints, or jaundice? You don't have to know what it is, just take your vitamins. Medicine has come a long way since I was a kid. I'd kill for medicine that tastes like slightly chalky candy. My brothers and I used to throw up when my parents gave us medicine so you take your candy medicine and shut up." That's informative.

Carmen's mom though, she hides vitamins in things. She essentially drugs her kids. I know that sounds bad, but you can't really think about it any better way. This time, she puts vitamins in her kids Kool-Ade and gives it to them with a straight face. No second thoughts. Just “Here's your "juice" kids.” To make it even worse, the kids love it and when they ask for more, she has to string the lie out because she's not going to give the kids more vitamin/juice mix and if she just makes them juice, they're know that it tastes differently.

A lady from the CPS came to inspect the home life of adopted Carmen and they asked how she gave her kids medicine. Carmen's mom didn't hesitate for a second. After tasting it, she saw why she did it. It tasted good. It tastes like a fruit juice and vitamins but the flavor is so good that you don't care at all that it might or might not have vitamins in it. The lady from CPS left leaving Carmen's mom with a warning that eventually she will have to stop doing this because all kids have to take some vitamins.

Honey, I think that I picked a poor career decision. Look, I love kids. They are adorable and having them as toddlers really allows me to instill good morals and watch them learn from nothing to something. That's all well and good except those little buggers are always sick. There isn't one day when at least one kid isn't sick.

I am fully aware of this and I do what I can to take care of myself. I wash my hands like a dozen times a day. I drink orange juice all the time. I eat apples in hopes that it truly keeps the doctor away. I even have tried and still occasionally try Airborne since it's from a teacher to a teacher.

I don't know what else to do. There has to be something else. I can't get sick. If I leave, then I have to call a substitute and that never goes well. These kids are less than one year old and they are downright evil to subs.

What's this? Immunity Support? I need that! I love that! Where did you find this? Oh, the store. Well, why did I even ask? I'll try it right here and now. Can you hand me that bottle, please? I can't wait to smash this cap and drop the mix in the water. I love interactive drinks. Dear, I'm liking this drink. It's nicely sweetened and tastes like orange and maybe cranberry but it's good. It doesn't really taste medicine-y and, if anything, might taste a little Flintstone vitamin-y. I love them, though so it's alright.

I can feel myself getting stronger. I can feel those little sneezes and snots just bouncing right off me. Thank you, honey. You are the best.

Noah, dude. Did you see this? I know. It's very insensitive. All of those animals stuck on that boat. You listened to the man upstairs, built the arc, traveled for a long time, and then had to resettle. You spend months on a boat with monkeys thinking they owned the place. There was just animal poop everywhere. I know that the documentary maker who added your story to his book, "The Bible" didn't add any of the gross stuff. You would spend most days picking up pooh with a shovel and throwing it overboard. That's not glamorous. Also, people died in that flood. Did the maker of this drink forget that? Flood your thirst? Seriously. People died. I know people that died. This guy took your name and your story and exploited it to sell his drink. You want one? Alright. You can have mine.

What?! You like it? How could you, Noah? This is an insult to your experiences and your story. I know that was a long time ago and you work in a Best Buy now but it's still something you did, something you accomplished. Good lime flavor?! I don't even know you. I suppose you think that it's nice and refreshing because it doesn't have any sugar. What? Dude. Noah. Dude. You've gone soft. Your once calloused hands have softened back up. Alright, I know I'm being hard on you. I'm sorry. While you're back there, can you get me a pair of Beats headphones in purple? Thanks. My customer is going to be sore at me for talking to you for so long and clearly not working and getting the headphones they wanted.

Gerald was one dumb kid. He was one of those kids that didn't like to drink water so he drank anything but. When he was about eight, someone gave him an aloe drink and he fell in love. What kid wouldn't want to drink something with chunks? It's just gross enough that young boys think it's the most incredible thing ever. He would drink it every day. He would drink a lot of it every day. When he was at school he would have one of those giant 32 ounce bottles in his backpack and when the school day was over, he would have nearly finished the whole thing. When he was home, he would drink small containers because his mom and dad really didn't like him drinking that much.

He would hide them throughout his room. He particularly liked the La Vi drinks because they were good and they were small enough to fit in small places. The last time he went to his local Asian market the cashier, who knows him by name, turned him onto an apple La Vi aloe drink. It had a decent apple taste, was a little syrupy, and had those lovable chunks in it.

One day, when running in gym class, he fell and cut his leg. He grabbed his leg and when he lifted his hands to see how bad it was, and his hands were covered in aloe and chunks. It was a little pink from blood but for the most part, it was all aloe! He thought it was cool and called his friends over to look at it. They dared him to drink it but that was just too much for him. The nurse called his parents and yelled at them for letting him drink so much aloe and that it was bad for him. When Gerald got home, he was grounded and they found and threw out his stash of aloe drinks. He understood that he had a problem and cut his aloe intake way down.

Charles, a mild mannered man, loved jazz. He didn't play any instruments himself, unless you consider the most cacophonous junior year of high school ever when he played guitar. He spent most nights alone in what used to be smoky jazz clubs in the city. Now they are smoke free and he is happy about that, but he admits that it misses a certain...something. He loves the greats like Maceo, Monk, and Miles as well as new cats.

Last night he went to a club downtown that just opened up a few weeks ago called JB's. He walked up to the entrance, and there was a man doing mime outside. He looked inside and there were TV's playing sports and people yelling. In the very back corner, he saw a man playing guitar. He heard the rest of a band, but couldn't see him through the crowd. He approached the doorman and said to him, "Is this a jazz club? It doesn't look like one and you advertised it as one." The doorman rudely said, "What are you, the bar police? Pay the five dollar cover and go inside if you want to see what JB's is all about." Charles reluctantly did and headed right towards the guitar player.

He shuffled through the people towards the guitarist so quickly that he didn't realize that there was no band at all. The man with the guitar was playing along with an iPod playing jazz. He was good, but it wasn't the same. He approached the bar and asked for something to drink. The bartender asked what he wanted and he asked what the house specials were. The bartender said that JB's had it's own line of drinks and gave him a list. Charles, knowing this night was going to be quicker than intended and he was probably going to leave soon, got a lemon tea. He took a sip and expected that it was going to be awful like the rest of the club. He was wrong. The tea had a nice lemon flavor and decent tea flavor. It obviously wasn't something you would make at home and tasted pretty manufactured, but he liked it more than a lemon Brisk. It tasted more real than that.

He finished up his tea, tipped the bartender, said goodbye to the doorman and got in his car to go home. It was only eight and he was too upset to stay out so he went home. That was the last time that he went to JB's for the jazz but on occasion, he would stop in during the day and get an iced tea and talk to all the creepy day-drinkers.

Kel loves orange soda. I don't really know why he chose to mention it so much. Orange, to me, is never fantastic. It's just "good" all the time. It's better in certain scenarios, like BBQ's and picnics, but for the most part, it's not something to love. Kel, I'm not saying you're wrong, I'm saying you should update your "love list" of pop. I know you've got one. You seem like the type of guy that has an ongoing list of things he loves and more frequently than you would imagine he updates it, reorders it, and tweaks it so he knows just what he wants out of life. The more you think about it, the better of an idea it seems. It's like a wish board that inspires you to go for what you want in life.

This pop shouldn't be on the list. It's good. Nicely sweet, nicely flavored, but it's just an orange pop. Cane sugar or not, sweeteners can't bring this drink out of the rut that it is destined to be in.

If his list is anything like mine, there are things like a Lamborghini Countach, tacos, and a vintage stainless steel Rolex Datejust on it. He and I may be completely different, though. I've never met the dude. Kel, if you're listening, you are more than welcome to do a guest review and clear up with the general public exactly what is on your wish list.

Sally, you've got your science project due tomorrow right? Did you do it? Oh really? Come on, Sally. Don't lie to your daddy. Did you do it? You did? Well let me see it. As a scientist, I need to see what science projects leave this house. I know you're only ten but I've got a reputation in this community as a fantastic scientist and if you leave this house with a Styrofoam mobile of planets or a baking soda volcano I will be the laughing stock of the science community.

What was your project on? Mixing liquids? That seems interesting. Acids and bases? That type of stuff? Oh, look at you. Using words like carbon dioxide and oxygen. You're a regular chip off the old block. So, what did you make? Oh, a bottle of pop. That's actually a pretty good use of mixing liquids, Sally. Oh, you drew a little cartoon on the label. What's that? A bear driving a hot rod down the road filled with bubbles on a picnic placemat. Well, I've got to say, for a ten year old, that's pretty detailed. How does it taste? Oh, you like it. Well that's good. Do you have any extra? Oh, thank you. I'll just have a little glass. It's close to bedtime and I don't like sweets so close to bed, but my doctor does. Ha ha ha! Oh, that's a little dad joke. No big deal. Sally, how much sugar did you use in this? What did you use for the flavor? You mushed up mixed berry jelly you took from IHOP this morning? I guess that is a pretty easy way to get flavor. It does taste just like how “berry” would taste, not knowing what kind or kinds of berry or berries I'm ingesting.

This isn't good and it meets my approval. I think that the teacher might agree with me but if you could make some more bottles, I bet your little friends would love it. You kids love your sugar but my checkbook sure doesn't. Ha ha ha! Oh just another dad joke.

Having a kid, I am at the forefront on whether or not to use "baby talk." I can safely say that in the one single year of my son's life, I have never used baby talk or have I wanted to. Just reading the title of this drink aloud to him would null and void my streak. I understand that this is a drink for kids, but this is a phrase for babies. The only thing that could make the title of this drink any worse would be to change the "Y" in "yummies" to an "N." I can't even bring myself to type that out. Awful. Simply terrible.

Name aside, who doesn't love a nice, sweet orange drink? There is no edge, as I was expecting in this drink. It's smooth, which is strange. It's not creamy, which would be insanely disgusting. It just goes down well and doesn't choke you up. At first I thought that it was a bit Freez-e-pop-esque but I take that back. It did not taste at all like a real orange, and thinking it would is crazy. It tastes like candy orange and that is fine with me. I might prefer that to authentic orange unless it's orange juice. Let oranges do what they're good at and if you're not going to use real oranges, make something the same color that vaguely at best tastes like it. Hey, it worked for grapes.

Now I kind of want a grape version of this to see if it would solidify my point. I reckon it would.

You know it was really nice meeting you, Sam. You know what? I will go home with you. Let's get in this cab and head back to your place. Oh...you live here? This is a rough part of town, isn't it? Well, I feel safe with you so let's just get inside quickly because that guy over there across the street has shifty eyes like in cartoons where a dog has shifty eyes because he's up to no good.

Oh, this is...this is where you live? Oh, no...It's nothing...I just...well I just thought because you were so well kempt that...you know...your house would be, too. It's fine. It's fine. Let's just get to your room. Sam, why are we going in the basement? Oh...it is damp down here. Is that pipe leaking? Why does it...no...nevermind. No...I can't say it. You know what? I might go home. All of a sudden I don't feel so hot...well I was going to say it smells a lot like sweaty feet down here. Man it's damp down here. Do you have like seventeen humidifiers running in here?

Please don't tell me you sleep on a twin mattress on the floor. You do? Sam. Come on. You have a $400 watch on, $200 shoes, and nice clothes. Why do you live like this? How can it smell like feet so much down here! Jesus! Yes, Sam. Thank you. I will have a drink. I'm going to need it. Thanks. Is this red wine? What is it? Black current? I don't know. Oh, it's just juice? Alright. Ugh. What is going on? Is that the way this drink tastes or is this cranberry juice made with someone's old, sweaty feet? There is too much going on. Is this juice bad? Did you serve me old, bad juice? It's not expired. Look, once it's in my mouth, it just tastes like a liquid version of those delicious canned cranberries you eat on Thanksgiving. When you bring it to your mouth though...feet.

Sam. I can't do this. I'm sorry. You have a good nice and it was really nice meeting you. I'm going to call a cab and wait on your front stoop and hope that the shifty guy outside doesn't come towards me or I will kick him so hard he's going to be shifting in places he wishes he wasn't. Good night, Sam. Please lose my phone number.

Girlfriend, you know I love you. I know you, too, and I know that you like things that sparkle: diamonds, gems, rubies, and the lot. I can't wait until your birthday, Christmas, Valentine's Day, or even Sweetest Day to let you in on this secret, but I bought you something that sparkles. It's not much, but when I saw it I thought of you. Here, my baby. This is for you.

What do you mean "What is it?" It's sparkling lemonade. It's sparkles, like my girl. Go ahead. Taste it. What do you think? It's good, right? Yeah. Baby. That's right. It's good, right? Baby? Do you like it? What's that questioning look? Oh. It's that it wasn't jewelry. That's fine. Oh, you do like it. Great. It's pretty good. A little diet, yes. Your delightful little tongue is no liar. It's not a terrible lemonade flavor. It's not too bad. For only two calories it could surly be a whole lot worse.

So there you are, one bottle of a sparkling drink for my sparkling fiancè. You've earned it. Speaking of earning it, I believe that you mentioned something about a chocolate cream pie. I believe I am quite deserving of that.

Jeremy, do you have coconuts for sale? You do? How much are they? Oh that's way too much. Do you have dent and scratch coconuts? You do? Is there anything wrong with them? They're old? Hmm. How old is old? Oh, that is old. You know what? If they smell fine, I'll take them. Can I get a discount since they're old? Awesome. Alright, I'll take a couple cases. What am I doing with them? Making pop. Yeah, coconut pop. I figure I'm one of the only ones I can have a nice corner of the market. Yes, I'm sure that better quality coconuts would make a better product. Sweetener? Corn syrup. Look, I've got to conserve money. This economy is garbage. Corn syrup and old coconuts is what my company will start with and as soon as things get better, we'll upgrade to better things.

I have made a sample batch, yes. It tastes a little thick and a little like coconut. The sweetener is a bit off, if I can be honest. I'm hoping people get hooked so when we pull the switch on cane sugar, it's a significant improvement. It's nice to have a constantly improving company and that's why I'm sacrificing quality initially.

Jeremy, thanks. I appreciate your help. I have written you a check for sixteen dollars for eighteen cases of old and damaged coconuts. I will send you some samples when I get them finished up. You don't want any? Alright dude, your loss.

Gilius Thunderhead was a strong dwarf who was an accomplished blacksmith. He became so strong became he was always wielding a hammer against an old fashioned anvil. He made swords, axes, railings, and everything in between. His favorite things to create were double-edged axes because he could get artistic and put all sorts of intricate filigree within the metal.

To unwind, he enjoyed drinking root beer. Sure, he's a short, tough guy, but he enjoys his sweets just like anyone. The company appreciated him buying case after case so much that they renamed their super-successful root beer to "Dwarven Draight" and Gilius was more than pleased. He liked the root beer because it was sweet, had a bit of complexity, and the taste stayed with you for a while.

The only group that he wouldn't share his root beer with was the Death Adders because they killed his brother and were generally quite mean and tactless. If you could hear the jokes they would make about minorities you wouldn't as much as share a stick of gum with them. Terrible, terrible people.

The terrorists really win when you drink this stuff. They come at you from all angles and all you can think is, "It'll be alright" as you are getting shot every which way. Do not go into battle after you drink this stuff. Do not operate heavy machinery because when you're driving a gigantic dump truck thinking, "I feel really relaxed right now." you're running over half a dozen cars and you don't even know it.

This drink works. I feel totally relaxed and quite apathetic at the world around me. Sure, it doesn't take much to get me to that point but the former is a stretch. I am just a little sleepy but even when I say that I know as soon as my head touches the pillow my day will be over and then some.

This stuff could not taste more like medicine. Even down to the light carbonation/stinging, this drink does not fail to deliver in its familiar yet undesirable taste. What it lacks in a nice, soft, black cherry taste, it makes up for in actual results. I could probably take a punch in the face with a smile about now. There's nothing in this drink that is medicinal either. The only unnatural ingredient is the corn syrup. Everything else is just a relaxation herb.

This drink makes me feel like the first few times I had a Bob Marley tea, so if you want that feeling all over again, and you don't need to drive a backhoe and your city isn't overrun by terrorists, this is a great drink that you should enjoy exorbitantly responsible because it could end you and you couldn't care about it.

The Amazon is littered with fruits. Monkeys, snakes, spiders, and fruits. They all love fruits. Tourists come in, get bitten by a snake and run out giving the rainforest a bad name. The locals go in, snag some fruit, give a monkey a high five and leave. In and out. How it should be. Locals also know what some of the stranger fruits are and eat them and skip boring bananas. Bananas. Pfft. Locals go grab a handful of guarana and make some pop with it. Some locals want to push some of these delicious little dudes on the locals because they don't know what they're missing out of.

The company just sells guarana pop and the locals think that it's so strange and daring and it's really just good, fruity pop. It's almost like a bubble gum that has been chewed for a couple hours. It's sweet, fruity, and a little special. Feel special. Drink guarana pop and stop being such a tourist.

Pat went to a job interview at the old Fuhrman plant. He has always loved their pop as long as he can remember and when he saw that they were hiring so he decided he would try and get a job there. He put on a decent shirt and tie, clean pants, and some dress shoes that he never wears unless he's going to a wedding, job interview, or funeral.

When he was driving down the long parking lot to get to the main office, he noticed a truck backing up. He thought and assumed it would stop since he was driving in an empty parking lot and there was no reason why not to see him. Just as he thought that was going to be the case, it was too late to brake and the crazy truck driver wasn't stopping. Pat did what he could which involved nothing more than stepping to get to point A before the truck got to point B, otherwise someone was going to get clipped. Foot to the floor, Pat involuntarily yelled, as he knew it was going to be a close one but it was no luck. The truck skimmed the back of his car, scuffing some of the paint which was more than fixable but what wasn't fixable is that the otherwise good interview he was hoping for was going to be ruined now that some dumb trucker hit his car.

He went into the main office, upset, and asked to see the interviewer he had scheduled the interview with. The lady behind the counter said that the interviewer had left for the day and should have called him. Pat checked his phone only to find no messages or anything. The guy stiffed him. The lady saw that he was distraught so she gave him a bottle of root beer. He took it, thanked the lady and headed out the door. He took a sip and for the first time, he thought that the root beer was completely average. It didn't have any extraordinary flavors and it wasn't complex. It was just root beer. It was good, but today he needed something special and next to the crash and getting stood up, he needed something really special.

It wasn't Pat's best day so he went home to just veg out for a while and play video games. He would need them after a garbage day like this.

It's 1920. You are eighteen, just graduated from high school and have your whole life ahead of you. You put on your hat, suit, and nice shoes and head to the market. You get some soap, fresh fruits and vegetables, and some meat for supper. Supper is what they called "dinner" in those days. You've got to check on the status of your car so you head to the mechanic across the street. It's dusty today. Your new dark gray slacks are taking a hit. Mother will be very upset that she's going to have to clean them. It's not your fault. If they would only cover the street with something everyone's pants wouldn't get all muddy. After all, that's how you lost a tire. After that big rain, holes and mud was everywhere and essentially stole the tire right off your car.

The mechanic is sitting down, covered in dust, dirt, oil, and grease. He's drinking something but you can't tell what it is from across the street. You walk up to him and ask how your car is. He tells you that you just needed a new axle and it was done. You looked at his drink and it was one of those new Blackman juices everyone has been talking about. You asked the mechanic where he got it because you were finally going to get one. He said that the market you just came from had them but they were in the back so you probably didn't see them. You paid the man, threw your groceries in you newly fixed car, and headed back towards the market. You finally found the juice after having to ask two different associates where they were. You decided on the pear apple juice since you love both of those fruits. You pay the cashier, head outside, and sit in your car. You open up the bottle and take a sip. "Ahhhhh" you say. It's a fifty-fifty split between your favorite hand fruits. Naturally sweetened by apples, tasting like apples, and tasting like pears all at the same time. Now you know what everyone was talking about. Blackman has done it again. You're going to have to do an extra good job at shining his shoes next time he sees you. He deserves it after this concoction.

You get in your car, tip you hat to the mechanic who fixed your car, and headed to your job as a shoesmith for wingtips and loafers for the rest of the day. If it's not too late, maybe you'll try your luck at some of the other flavors the market's got.

Ma'am, please. Get down here in the bomb shelter before another bomb goes off. Shut the door. We don't want any bad guys or shrapnel coming down here. This is a safe zone. You never thought you'd be in a bomb shelter, did you? Well, here beneath the Jewish school, we've been stocking up. Notice how we have separate shelves for meats and dairy. I'm not even Jewish and I can appreciate the orthodox nature of this organized bomb shelter. Sure, until the smoke clears, we won't be able to eat a cheeseburger or pepperoni pizza, but I can deal with it. We've got plenty of Twinkies and this canned hot chocolate. It's diet because if we lived off nothing but Twinkies, gelt, and non-diet hot cocoa, we wouldn't be able to make it up the stairs because we would have gained so much weight.

We've got like fourteen cases of this hot cocoa and eleven car batteries to run the microwave and space heater. Can I make you a can? Yes? Great. It will be ready in a minute.

Here you are. Piping warm. What do you think? Yeah, I got that, too. It's good at first and then gets really diet tasting. You always know that it's hot cocoa, but it's got a constant sucralose undertone. It's not bad. Sure, we've also got bottled water, but this is in a can, which I feel is chemical bomb proof. You know what? On second though, this might be harder than we thought. Why? Well...how to put this...they stocked the food, have blankets, batteries, water, but they're forgetting one thing. Toilets. There is nowhere to go to the bathroom and there is a concrete floor that is four feet thick so we can't even go in a hole. Looks like that room that you thought was yours is going to have a handful of pee corners. Sorry, ma'am.

In a cave four hundred feet below the ocean, there are aliens. You thought they came from outer space. You orbit-dummy. They brought Pitaya, a space fruit, to Earth because their soil couldn't handle it. Their plants grow down due to strange gravity so the aliens planted them in the ceiling of their cave. Problem is, here plants grow up so they planted all these strange fruits that they just assumed weren't growing but, in fact, were growing up and actually breaking through the earth in some places and humans discovered them. These strange fruits were harvested right as "The Great Coconut Water Craze" of 2010 happened so they naturally were mixed in with that. Someone took a sip and said that it needed a little something else and threw in a lemon and called it a day.

The aliens, disguised as insurance brokers went to the company that had "stolen" all their fruit for a profit and decided to see what their hard work had turned into on this planet. They discovered that it wasn't half bad. The dragonfruit was a nice compliment to the coconut water that was typically chalky. The lemon was a strange touch that actually was some of the most sincere lemon flavor. Almost like if you made homemade lemonade with real lemons and put that in there without the sugar because this isn't terribly sweet.

The aliens, upset that they had been plating all their stuff only to be used and modified by dumb humans decided that they would go to Mars because they heard through the television that Mars makes candy bars and everyone knows that aliens love chocolate.

Gnomes enjoy mixing fruits and creams. Reason being they live in a region that encourages growth of all fruit year round. They also work for a large creamery owned and operated by gnomes. Seriously, everyone that works or is affiliated with the creamery is a gnome.

Gnomes are partial to strawberries and they thought that it would be a good idea to mix their finest cream with their regular strawberries. This led to the creation of this pop. Problem is that the gnomes have remarkable taste buds. Think of the way dogs can hear awesomely.

Us average sized people do not have the fine tunings of a gnome and therefore the flavors of this pop is lost on us. Everything is dumbed down and it tastes sweet and then as an aftertaste you get a tiny bit of strawberry.

Gnomes don't quite though so this pop will be made until the creamery closes it's doors for the last time. For the gnome's sake, I don't want that to happen. I just don't want them out of work, you know? These are tough times.