Filmography, Future Colas, & Lab Coats

Breaking News: A nice-looking short film titled The Red Ace Cola Project is playing at Sidewalk Film Festival this weekend in Birmingham, AL. I'm pretty sure the entire Weekly Fizz staff (me) will be there on Saturday 1:30pm at the Alabama Theater.

Description:

It’s 1955 and artificial flavors, TV dinners and space-age foods are all the rage. The International Foods and Flavors Company has just hired its first woman flavorist, Dr. Elizabeth McCovovich. Elizabeth's dream is to work in the lab with her idol, resident big man flavorist Dr. John Comden, but she soon discovers that Dr. Comden would rather her be a secretary than a scientist. Determined to prove herself as a flavorist, Elizabeth must beat out her boss and everyone else to create a new formula for Red Ace Cola, the “cola of the future."

Zooce | Japanese Translator For Hire

Zooce Sparkling is a new beverage from Japan that is very hip and very now. Teens and tweens have been drinking it while skateboarding and listening to hip-hop, or so we've read. American adults like us couldn't be more jealous of both the packaging and the taste, so we are begging our young overseas friends to lend us some. Guess we'll be sticking to our Metamucil and Grape Nuts until that time comes.

Look at the colorful animals. It's okay. Go ahead and touch them. They won't bite. Okay, so the leopard-spotted elephant probably might run you over, but only if you forget to feed his buddy the star-spangled moose. The plaid squirrel is harmless, as long as you promise to keep your hands off his nuts.

Now pour yourself a glass. Notice the light taste. Very fruity, right? Kind of like a new sort of hybrid juice/soda? Clear and sparkling and good, isn't it? Unlike many of the beloved sodas in our repertoire, this one goes down smooth, not even leaving behind a an afterparty mess in our bellies.

Zooce comes from the Suntory group. It's difficult to find any English information on the soda (so by all means, tell us what you know). My colleague reminded me of the Bill Murray scene from Lost in Translation where he films a Suntory whiskey commercial. And that, friends, is about all we got.

Heaven

John Yam brought this video to my attention:

Yike's Showdown | 3 The Hard Way

Since a certain serialized young adult novel is merely a few days from being finis, kaput, ende, no mas ... some of you have been buzzing in at the Hottline (1-800-MORE-SODURR) to ask the inevitable: "When will our phavorite alterna-sodablog be delivered more phrequentlee?"

The answer is: "¡Sí, Se Puede!" Weekly Phizz should go back to being ... err (fingers crossed) ... more weekly. But that's assuming no phatal illnesses or unwanted houseguests find their way to our lair. And what better way to celebrate this unanticipated trium-fant return than a healthy co-ed game of laser tag? OK, we lied. No lazrtagg. We here at the W.F. Offices, L.L.C. are more than a wee bit scared of the dark. Give us our night-night and a Louisville Slugger 'neath the pillow and we can only hope morning comes without enduring a panic attakk.

What I really meant to say was ... what better way to celebrate the return of WF than a YIKE'S SHOWDOWN! We're sipping all three beautiful bottles pictured on the upper left, blindpholded, wearing straightjacketz and suspenderz, then writing the way we pheel inside. (Ed. note: We already feal pretty good. Not only are certain old trends currently getting replaced with lengthy naps and uninterrupted reading sessions, but, just take a look at the near-perfect coloration on those beauts! Wouldn't YOU feel good?)

Here we grow with Numero Uno. Blindfolds on. No peeking. Peach Pop tastes like sailing on pink clouds. And not being dead, but very much alive. The peach flavor tastes far from overbearing and, well, tasty. Next, please. Blue Bubble Gum Pop is like one might imagine only 50 times bettr. It's diving from a board into a pool philled with bubblegum, cream soda, blueberries and pool chemicals — a feeling one wishes would last forevr. Green Apple Pop, however, is jollyranchier. I do not like green apples and ham, Sam-I-Am, so maybe you should talk to someone who duzz. In the next focus group meeting we'll be referring to this one as the greenheaded stepchild, and plotting ways to humiliate it in publick.

(Vanna, where'd you run off to? We need you to announce that BLUE is the winner. Vanna, are you dead?) It was not quite a foto phinnish, but several pheet behind came LE PEACH (4th from the last, in bowling lingo). And sorry, green apple. We hate you.

So we'll give you — the audience — a brief cirius history lesson and then we be dunn. Yike's flavors are certainly what you might call rare. The soda is "produced exclusively for EZ Mart Stores, Inc." out of Texarkana, TX. It's a shame indeed, because no one in the world should be deprived of the physical greatness of Yike's. Where we got these bottles, howevr, is a mystery. Somewhere in North Alabama or Southern Tennessee, we think. It wasn't at the Boobie Bungalow (at least not if yer children are reading. This blog's got a TV-14 rating.)

**UPDATE:: Steph says Yike's came from the EZ Mart close to her home. Mystery solved!

Thanks for tuning in. C U nexxt week!

Fanta Muscat | Patience is Key

We're on a roll! Only four months since the last post!

I promised a casual stranger I'd sift through the ashes of "the Fizz" this week, to resurrect the project for a post on a particular beloved drink. A promise from my lips is a promise richer than goat's blood. I'm writing this review on a napkin, sitting on a neighbor's roof with a cherry stem in my mouth. I'm trying to do that thing where you tie the stem into a knot using only your tongue. Saw it on the internet once. I've been hiding from the fuzz since last night. They caught me in a cage sipping a bottle of Fanta Muscat through a (rare) hollowed-out (infant) elephant tusk.

Truth is, "the W.F." has been on my heart a ton lately. When a certain writing project comes to an end—and assuming I'll have found a cure for this rare neck disorder—I'd like to make this blog a more constant, less part-time gig. Right now it seems to be more of a part-part-part-part time gig. Except with more "parts." To those of you who fancy reading vital information related to sodas, I send my apologies. If there's anything you'd like to see in the future on our improved beta 3.1 site, shoot me an email. Or if you'd like, send me sodas. I'll always be willing to drink and write about them. Sometime before Armageddon.

On to the drink...

My third cousin purchased this bottle on a recent voyage to Japan. Japan is a village outside of Hungary, and if I'm not mistaken, it exists on a quaint hill overlooking springs and ferris wheels. Here in Japan, Muscadines run free, along with tiny leprous rabbits. Seriously, this drink is gooder than you can imagine. We drank it over ice, and immediately decided it was time to go sailing. And just so you can fully grasp the absurdity of our admiration, neither of us owns a sailboat, nor do we live by the water. We'd like to live by the water someday, but can only hope to do it after this gall-dern recession ends. Soda bloggers can't find work these days—who saw that coming?

I'd like to find some more bottles of this drink outside of France or Japan, so if you happen to be in-the-know, help a brother out!

Have a great summer, caffeine luvrs. See you soon.

Jarritos Tamarind | Tiny Jars of Euphoria

On a train ride through the Yucatán peninsula this spring, a team of scientists and I found a mysterious straw bag hiding in a storage compartment. We opened it to find not potatoes, but dozens upon dozens of ripe tamarinds. Having gone through weeks of voluntary starvation, we proceeded to eat the contents in a matter of minutes. When Lairy tossed the empty sack out the window, my environmental convictions went aflutter. Also, was it me, or were we hearing the sound of glass breaking? I adjusted my "'nocs," and peeked out the window. There it was. A bottle of Jarritos Tamarindo: Refresco Sabor Natural laying on the track. Helpless, shattered and fizzing. Surely it would be a few hours before our next bathroom break, and I could only hope to find another one then. I sunk into my seat, tearfully remembering the delightful taste from years ago. Oh, how it felt "my first time"! ...

(This section has been deleted—Ed.)

Tamarinds are tropical trees native to Africa, and now, thanks to their seeds being scattered throughout the world, they've gained popularity in various regions in Mexico and India. The pulp is valued for its sour and acidic—and at the right stage sweet—flavor**. The soda peeps have mimicked it pretty well, as far as I can tell. The aftertaste, however, reminds me more of the favorite lip balm worn by my first wife. It's a memory only enveloping me in yet more sadness.

Mexico's first national soft drink brand has been goin' strong, as they say, for nearly 60 years

now. The great Don Francisco Hill (a.k.a. “El Güero”†) named the drink as a nod to the clay pottery jugs, called jarritos, that helped keep coffee and other drinks fresh. I was lucky enough to be one of Don's original test subjects, back before I earned my fortune. During these humble times I had vowed to never again find myself a participant in the illegal arms trade, but still needed easy money to get me a ticket back to the States after my banishment (some involvement in a barfight preluded this, where I seriously injured a team of five or six Hell's Angels.. we won't go into it here).

You can find individual bottles of Jarritos at Latin Merchant.

*Note: It should not be confused with Barrilitos, also from Mexico, which is waiting in the fridge for future review.
**Speaking of flavors, look at all these! How will I ever get to them all?

†Not a joke.

Celeste Peach Soda | Spending New Year's Alone

This New Year's Eve was not different than others in that many found themselves celebrating by popping champagne bottles. I, however, saw myself consuming glass after glass after glass after glass after glass of Celeste Peach Soda. "What're you doing over there?" one of my closest, most beardest friends asked. "Nothing," I told her, and then, "leave me alone," and also something along the lines of, "it's none of your business, you foolish stupid stupid foolish foolish person!" And I ran to the nearest closet, tears falling like bad weather. Minutes later, I was being dragged from the house by my ankles, but only after I'd managed to smuggle another bottle under the coatsleeve of my windproof jacket.

I grabbed my necklace/whistling device and blew my special top secret birdcall whistle-sound for my special hired personnel cab driver person to arrive. I hopped in. He offered some water. I drank the entire pitcher, and then broke it over my head, thinking how weird is it that pitchers are made of glass these days? After that, my recollections are vague, though I do remember pulling up unannounced at another party, cursing everyone in sight, and the coolers especially for housing only cans of cheap beer and warm Diet Pepsi Lime.

Now, thankfully, Celeste sodas (and energy drinks) have been planted at various gas stations throughout the South. According to this article, they can be found at The Pantry, Kangaroo Express, Cowboys, Handy Way, Quick Stop, Zip Mart, Fast Lane, Big K, Depot, Mini Mart, Lil Champ Food Store, and Petro Express. The drinks are strong, tasty, and completely enjoyable in all other regards. They're near perfect on road trips, even better on scuba diving voyages, and forever wonderful when served over ice at bat mitzvahs. We'll be reviewing another fabulous Celeste product again sometime, hopefully before the shades are pulled over 2009. Maybe we'll even talk to this Celeste and see how it feels to have your very namesake printed on a soda bottle.

These days people like to go on and on about the true meaning of Christmas. With that in mind, I'd like for people to also take some time to reflect on the true meaning of New Year's. New Year's is a time to be spent with family and friends. It's a time for getting conned into an overpriced gym membership. It's a time for kissing total strangers on the lips. Take a moment to remember how bad last year was, and be completely honest with yourself when you envision the thousands of ways that this one could be even worse. Then drink some peach soda, and watch your problems dissolve into oblivion.

(photo: fireworks in Sydney; one of many locations where the author did not spend the holiday)

Nygårda Julmust | Happy Whatever You Celebrate

This morning, as I was marking another x on my smutty Mrs. Clause calendar, I realized it was time for:

THE WEEKLY FIZZ SPECIAL YEAR END HOLIDAY SALE.. err.. INSTALLMENT

Yuletide fizzlings to be had by you, and all your kinship and grandfizzles! The Ghost of Christmas Mental Affliction and I will be guiding you as we traverse underprivileged neighborhoods, making our list and checking it for factual and grammatical errors. Don't forget to pack your flask. We'll be filling it to the brim with the rare exotic mistle-tinged taste of Nygårda Julmust (careful.. it's from Sweden).

Now you know I hate dwelling on bad holiday memories. But after sitting through the bulk of last year's VHS tape slide show footage, I just can't help it. As you may or may not remember, someone drank too much cider and proceeded to crash their sleighbells into grandma's giant pile of dead snowmen. This gave us no choice but to call the authorities. And then the New Year's incident at the McDonald's playground with the binoculars? Needless to say, it's been a rough year.

Which is why we've enlisted help from Mr. Clause. Not the phony Santa we all know from the mall and the movies and stuff, but Blanta himself. Take a seat on his chunky lap, while he scratches your back and listens to your naughty Christmas desires.

Oh right, about the soda. Julmust is a beverage consumed around Christmas in Sweden. In fact, during this time the country's Coca-Cola sales drop by roughly 50% due to its popularity. It tastes a little like beer, but with a lot of spice and no alcohol. Sort of bitter and strange, truthfully. My advice is not to drink it from your stocking, like you might with wassail, hot cocoa, or the like. Body shots are okay, but only after the children are fast asleep. And when Uncle Freddie (you know, the guy who kissed your girlfriend under the mistletoe the year before) punches you in the chestnuts, don't cry. Just string him up with lights and let those frisky elves take care of him. I'll show you where to stash the body.

Get some at IKEA, after you purchase that coffee table you'll never be able to assemble. Get in the spirit! And then decorate your mass spam emails with cool holiday-themed ASCII art.

Barq's Red Creme Soda | Cream Can Be Spelled "Creme" But Only In Certain Circles Which've Earned The Right To Do So

My colleague and I shared a plastic bottle of this drink today, on a much-needed break from doing less important things. I picked it out of the fridge in the same manner someone picks a new member for his team in kickball. I don't remember what it was like in kickball, doing the picking, but rather how it felt to be picked close to last. (It's true! This blogger had an unfortunate bowl cut and braces!) With past horrors in mind, I thoughtfully chose Barq's Red Creme Soda amid the other bottles that'd been gathering dust for far too long.

As pointed out to me earlier, this marks Weekly Fizz's first major label review. I know. In the past we have stood on the forefront as the elite pioneering-bastards of the indie drink evaluation. But this time around we couldn't resist.

Flash back to middle school, back to being an awkward fourteen year old (thank God I've endured the hardships, and can now say I've achieved awkward twenty-six year old status): I'd often walk around the school "brown bagging it." What doth this statement mean? Well, in the designated "lunch area," one could find me "hidin' from teach"—after tearing through my Swiss Cake Rolls—holding a bottle of Barq's Root Beer wrapped in a brown paper lunch bag. (Maybe it was IBC, actually, I don't remember.) I wouldn't have known about the other Barq's products at the time, probably because I lived in Tampa and not New Orleans. It's probably for the best, since chances are I would've dropped out and become a junkie, soon grappling harder vices like Minute Maid Tropical Citrus.

So, before getting any more sidetracked, let's talk about New Orleaners. Did you know they've claimed red cream soda their unofficial beverage? And here

I was imagining it was malt liquor. Also, to answer this week's mailbag, James William Black—a.k.a. "Big Daddy Black"—single-handedly patented the cream soda in Nova Scotia, 1886. And, let it be known, Barq's were the first to include caffeine as an ingredient in a non-coffee beverage. As for the taste, it resembles cream soda, but with added red. What the red allegedly represents is still a mystery. Are we supposed to taste cherries? Strawberries? Hybrid Perennials? Does color have a taste?

Click this link, order a 12-pack, and decide. Enjoy the little animated Spot characters on the page. They will dance for you.

"The Dr. Pepper's On Us"

As mentioned earlier, a Guns 'N Roses album is on the horizon. 

Why should we care?

Oh yeah. The 2008 completion of it entitles us all to a free can (or bottle? canteen?) of Dr. Pepper. 

Here's some instructions on how to obtain your very own coupon (which will take a while to arrive). 

Supposedly it can be used anywhere. I'm trying to imagine the expression I'll get from the cashier ladies at Western.

Refrescos Country Club Frambuesa Raspberry Soda | See Me, Feel Me, Touch Me, Drink Me

More like Monthly Fizz.
I blame the delays on my wall clock, which is getting a little old (my middle daughter made it with construction paper and glitter, and I've never had the heart to tell her it has no method of actually keeping time.)

I've been seeing a lot of sad eyes lately, so I was thinking, what the hell, I guess we are due for another post about now, aren't we?

So gather 'round children, and put on those party hats. It's time for the evening news. That means you too, Phil.

Let's talk about things that've happened in the past 24 hours:

1) Some interesting developments have occurred regarding that OJ Simpson case we've all been following oh-so-closely.

2) Another debate's going on at the very moment I'm writing this. Politics is crazy. But then again, so is sodas.

3) The stock market crashed again (at least I heard; I was shampooing my cat around that hour).

4) Reginald came in yelling and screaming and hollering and whistling, "Chief," he said—he calls me that occasionally—"Listen up! I think I might've found something!"

"Really?"

"Well.. yeah."

"What is it?" I asked. His nose was twitching at this point. Also, he was still wearing his pajama pants, the ones with little sailboats. "Make it snappy," I said. "And speak up, I got a bad headache."

"The missus and I have found a terrific light caffeine-free Raspberry soda."
He wiped his sweaty face on his sweatshirt, leaving a large greasy stain over Daffy Duck. I asked him to say again what he just said, and then myself said, "You don't say!" I put down my Sudoku puzzle—I'd given up on it and instead had begun crafting an origami swan out of the page. I raised my monocle to see his tiny face grinning. He hardly ever does that anymore, due to insecurity, mainly for losing every tooth in his Razor scooter collision last spring.

He handed me the bottle, and accidentally cracked the glass of my monocle in the process. Several shards made their way into my cornea, but rather than getting angry, I wiped the blood with my kerchief and asked him to slowly read the label.

"It appears to say Refrescos Country Club Frambuesa Raspberry Soda, sir."

"What's that, Español or something?" I asked.

"Think so."

And then I had a sip. I had seventeen of them, actually, completely finishing off the bottle. I did this before getting him to order twelve additional cases for the West cellar. It was damn good. Damn good.

If you don't trust my senses, trust your own and order a 2 liter (also in Orange) from amigofoods. And then throw a party.

Citadelle Fruit Cola | Taste of the Islands

I know my prolonged absence has left a cold and miserable hole in so many of your lives. My secretary's been reading and rereading several letters addressed from concerned followers. A few have even brought me to tears, which is a feeling I can only compare with my time spent in the woods with these people. You see, it's not that we here at Weekly Fizz have been lazy. It's just that we've been taking the private jet out, and much like Bruce Brown we've traveled the world over in search of The Perfect Cola. Yeah, that's it.

Last week we landed in Jamaica to stock up on several sodas we've reviewed in the past, and came across a new one. The rather nonspecific Citadelle Fruit Cola, our interns found, takes a relatively new approach in giving drinkers a chance to decide for themselves what it is they're actually tasting. You see, the people at Citadelle don't bother claiming their drink is "The Real Thing" nor do they go with cocky simple one-word slogans like "Enjoy." No sir. This forward-thinking marketing team has used the skilled illustration seen below- a sunset behind a lovely pair of palm trees- to convey the joy and serenity one felt the first time they swam in the deep end without parental supervision.

My colleague mentioned it tasted like cotton candy. I suggest you drink this one the same way we did, and decide the emotional landscape behind what you're tasting. Make sure to put on some Saul Williams and preheat the oven to 450 and cook that Totino's Triple Meat in style.

Fernandes Cherry Bouquet | Dutch Treat

Amsterdam has a tolerance for many things unpermitted in other places. Prostitution, marijuana, children peeing in bushes, and none other than Fernandes Cherry Bouquet.

I can say with honesty that on last week's trip I searched the city over, and couldn't find much in the way of peculiar non-U.S. sodas, but only weird juices, smoothies and things. 

Here were a few soda-related observations:

1) Fanta is even more common, in every local shopkeeper's cooler and served in every restaurant. 

2) Diet Cokes look the same, yet they go by the name Coca-Cola light. 

3) Also one day I thought I was buying a carton of chocolate milk, but upon opening it I found out I had actually bought a carton of chocolate yogurt. How is one supposed to consume an entire gallon of chocolate yogurt? You'll have to ask a Dutchman.

I got this little can from a vendor next to an art nouveau/deco neo-gothic theater, and threw it in my backpack until arriving home. And buddy, was that a long walk. It came as a reward that particular day of taking wrong turns all over the city, trying not to fall into canals and get run over by bicyclists.

I couldn't find Fernandes drinks online. The company had a few other soda flavors all over Amsterdam (Green Punch, Super Pineapple, and YES- Red Grape!). The ones I tried were all good, but Cherry Bouquet was certainly the tastiest. 

Black Lemonade | Welcome to the Other Side

Pirates are all the rage these days. Or was that a few years ago? I never saw the final Pirates of the Caribbean movie. Got kind of bored in the second one. Either way, pirates love this drink. I have evidence of this because I have some pirate friends. Seriously, I'll show you where they live.

Black Lemonade Private Reserve is one of the strangest, bitterest things I've ever tried. It's the kind of thing thirteen year-old boys pass back and forth and dare one another to finish at slumber parties (no wait, girls have 'slumber parties' and boys have 'sleepovers,' right? or was it the other way around?). While we're on the subject, it's not sissy thirteen year-old boys who might drink this either, but the kind that sneak weapons into school on the days they actually show up. 

I enjoyed the herbal lemonade/motor oil experience quite a bit, but probably wouldn't drink more than two bottles a year, if you catch my drift. There are several warnings on the label to not take lightly, including "once you drink black you never go back" (really.. their words, not mine). The drink is made by the alternative beverage group Skeleteens (and is it my imagination, or wasn't there a ska band with this same name sometime in the 90s?), and can be obtained via the web from the Sodaking. 

Bubble Up | Cool Drink, Even Cooler Jersey

The day has finally come. All of us here at Weekly Fizz can now say we have a favorite caffeine-free lemon-lime beverage. We've been drinking it around the offices all week long and asking each other "Why didn't we know about this stuff at the beginning of summer? (chuckle chuckle)." Unlike Sprite or 7Up or Ting or Weis Up! or That Lemon-Lime Drink Your Uncle Used to Swear By, Bubble Up packs an unexpected, special lemon kick in the blue jeans.

As for the taste, it's extra crisp, and best served chilled. Even better than drinking one bottle cold though is chilling several thousand, filling up an entire pool with 'em and inviting a dozen or so scantily-clad ladies over for a snorkeling party. Just make sure your goggles are on tight-- don't wanna get any in your eyes. As your mother and I know, it could send you to the hospital, and bills could get rather expensive since we had to cancel your policy a couple months back.

Alright, now open your textbooks to page 137. It's history time:
The Bubble Up product was first introduced in 1917 and later sold to the Dad's Root Beer dudes (and later on, overseas, to the Monarch Beverage Company). I like to think of it as the orphan child of lemon-lime bevs, since it was first made in Ohio, then in Atlanta, and now has found a special home in Indiana. Hey.. in the back of the class.. stop yawning or I'll saw your toes off!

I got my bottle, along with others to minimize shipping costs, from my good buddy the Sodaking.

Vimto | Purple Stuff, Dad's Pants, etc.

Vimto is big stuff in the U.K. I kid you not. The concoction seen to your left comes straight from the fruit of grapes, raspberries and blackcurrants (yeah, I had to look it up). Upon first glance I expected the purple stuff to be from somewhere in India, since my can was retrieved from a hookah lounge.

And most anyone would agree, this Sparkling Vimto Fruit Flavoured Drink is mighty delicious. If you could see my face you would detect no disappointment. And as of 2008, folks have been "Shlurpling The Purple" (as some have called it) for 100 years*.
(*some creepy instructions on how to perform this task, which I feel rather uncomfortable disclosing)

Unlike several of the soft drinks we've reviewed, the powers that be have chosen a mascot with an actual name: Purple Ronnie (no, not him). Let's see.. What can I tell you about the guy? Well, what all would you like to know? We used to be roommates. OK, just messin'. Purple Ronnie is a stick figure. He might be the world's most famous stick figure for all I know. And, don't take this the wrong way, because I really do love this beverage, but please don't get me started on how much I despise stick figures. Show me a man/woman drawing a stick figure and I'll show you a man/woman that is utterly lazy. LAZY! On the contrary, I happen to find stick insects* quite fascinating. They are ACTS OF GOD and DEFINITELY something worth going on and on about.
(*for the scientific mind, these are really called Phasmatodea)

(*forgive me today for being overly caps-happy)

I expect to drink a little Vimto on my European travels next week, amongst other things. Order it from Vimto International or ask somebody at an import-friendly local grocery store to help you out.

Drowning at the Soda Fountain

All's been pretty quiet on the blogging front lately, and for that I apologize.

It's just that the lease on my house in Tampa has ended, and for the time I've been staying in Brooksville, Florida, debating my next move and failing to locate any sodas looming. I was gonna say this guy lives in the neighborhood, but he died last year.

Solution: I ordered a bunch of bottles on the internet. As soon as the mailperson delivers them, I'll be hitting it hard again.. weekly and even more fizz-ly.

Soda and The Big Word Project | Two Kids Getting Easy Money

What exactly do dictionaries and caffeinated beverages have in common? Well, as the 5,732nd word to be included on The Big Word Project, the word "soda" will now link to Weekly Fizz.

The project is a viral campaign created by two Masters students from Northern Ireland, aiming to redefine the English language dictionary by linking words to websites. At $1 per letter, soda- being a four-letter word- costed me four bucks. But heck, that's less than dinner. And it's exposure, right?

Red Rock Premium Cola | Get Silly

Atlanta...

Lately I've spent some time in this city. I was interviewing for a job, seeing a couple good friends and listening to quite a bit of hip-hop radio. What else did I do? I drank Red Rock. I also drank several Weinstephaners and a Left Hand at Brickstore Pub, but during the daytime I was mostly listening to Weezy and sipping Red Rock.

Red Rock contains 100% natural pure cane sugar and a full-bodied taste in the soda fountain style. They've stayed relatively true to the original formula since 1885, which (as this man can tell you) is a really long time. If I had to compare it to another cola, I'd say it was a lot like Coke*. But stronger and (honestly) better. They make a ginger ale too, which I speculate must be pretty dope, like you'd expect Southern ginger ales to be.

In all actuality Red Rock has very little to do with the hip-hop lifestyle, and more to do with helping preserve nature- particularly The Chattahoochee River. From the 4-pack side panel:

One of Georgia's great rivers is endangered. The Chattahoochee River, a source of drinking water to nearly 3 1/2 million Georgians, has ben designated as one of the most endangered rivers in the nation. Red Rock is committed to helping save our great river. That's why Red Rock will donate a portion of the profit from every purchase to the Upper Chattahoochee Riverkeepers.

There's quite a bit of history to be read (if you have the patience). When in stock, you can order some from The Soda Shop.

(*Speaking of, did anyone else wonder where they were when Roc-A-Fella created the new Cherry Coke design last year?)

Ting | You Can Still "Feed The Animals" With It

Another Jamaican beverage, and this time a grapefruit-flavored one. And folks, just like last week's, the flavor of this one isn't all that strong, great, noteworthy, delicious, sensational, happy, first-class, sterling, blue-ribbon, bang-up, killer, hunky-dory, ace, terrific, smashing, awesome or brilliant. Honestly you could spend an entire Friday night playing with your neighbor's cat and feel precisely the same bit of excitement. Sorry, but that's just the way it is.

Upon my first sip my immediate reaction was that it tasted just like Alka-Seltzer, but with some grapefruit (and/or lime) juice squeezed in (it even seemed to plop in a similar manner as I poured it over ice). But after a few more sips I didn't mind it so bad. And spending some time under the Carribbean sun might make anybody sing a different tune. I could see Ting being refreshing under those sorts of circumstances. There's also a Pink Ting and a Diet Ting, both which I haven't had.

I feel like I need to show some love to Jamaica. How 'bout this: I listened to Augustus Pablo yesterday. Good enough? Alright, I'm sorry. I like the pretty green bottle, if that's any better. Speaking of music, this album made the experience not quite as bad.

Also got this one at Yah Mon. (Don't) get it here. Next week we'll review something good. Promise.