Something I haven’t delved too deeply into conversation on is the fact I haven’t had a soda since New Year’s Eve. It’s another one of my forever resolutions I set annually as a challenge. I stopped nicotine & alcohol, and learned to play acoustic guitar this way; all in the last four years. I’m an alien or something.

Seriously, it’s not a brag. I say this stuff out loud in hopes the attention will find my people. Who TF am I?

Nine months in without a soda? I haven’t lost an amazing amount of weight, but I feel much less bloated. I can’t see my toes while standing up, but I can touch them if necessary. How’s that for a middle-aged answer?

Bluntly; I don’t feel so melancholy all the time and I don’t tire as easily. Combined with the fact I gave up sweet tea years ago, my choices at a convenience store are limited. Basically, a solitary shelf.

Yesterday, I lived dangerously and purchased an Arizona Watermelon…”thing”. It is still sitting atop my dresser; opened, and only missing a sip.

In that sip, I tasted everything wrong with our country in the year 2025. I came to the cooler seeking refreshment and, once initiated, was greeted with an overwhelming sensation of tongue-joy or chemically induced orgasm.

Side note: dear Samsung,

At no time whatsoever while typing the word “orgasm” do I mean “organism”. I’m not old; I’m 51. I still mean “orgasm”.

Then, I did the thing most Americans don’t do. Being such a rare dose of poisons in my mouth all at once, I chose to savor it. I took my medicine like a naughty child to endure the discomfort out of spite.

That was a mistake.

In that moment, when the pleasantries subsided, it was as though I could taste all the greed and vile pollution of the industrial complex all in one gulp. I swallowed rather than spit; taking the ruler to my knuckles like the consumer-bitch I am.

This entire rant was inspired by a nearly full, forgotten Arizona Tea drink I left in my thinking corner. I should’ve just poured it out and thrown it away, but fate made it a necessary bullet point in my life’s PowerPoint presentation. For someone whose tongue only touches water, black coffee, hot, unsweetened tea, and an occasional fruit juice…

It was pure toxins. Also, they’re lying about the price staying 99 cents. Maybe at the company store, but not 711.

I’ve broken the spell of the soft drink industry placed upon this world via our alien overlords, but I can’t do squat with the information. First, they wouldn’t listen and, second, I don’t like them enough to save them.

But, if I could find it in my heart to forgive humanity for its misdeeds against my immortal soul, they wouldn’t listen. They’re the Pepsi generation. The real thing. The liquefied lead balloon that keeps us from floating to enlightenment. Our destined paths.

Translation: it’s bad for you, Dr. Jones. Spit it out.

Preach truths, toke jokes, and shoplift Amazon. Even the bottles are  made of poison, but all those Army vaccines I got counteract that. Clever alien overlords, they are. Chef’s kiss.

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