Mad-dog repugnant shit

So I'm at the house this morning, with nothing to do, and the lethargy virus has me by the balls again.  Allow me to take a second to explain that one before I continue my little rant.

I was at the VA getting my elbow looked at.  Apparently, the hundredth time I empi struck Che Guvara in the head, I got a ruptured meniscus in my elbow for my door prize.  Seriously, I must have hit that fucker in the head a hundred times, with no ill effect to me what so ever.  And now this.  A week later my elbow is the color of the rainbow.  No, I won't post a picture of it here…  I'm taking the Tom Sawyer approach…  You want to see my hurt elbow, you gotta help me paint the fence.

Ummm…

Oh, yeah, so I'm at the VA getting an x-ray to see if I broke the fucker again, and the doctor tells me that bouts of extreme lethargy that have been hitting me for the week have nothing to do with my elbow trying to un-fuck itself, but there is a version of cold virus going around Western NC that has no real cold-like symptoms, but it produces bouts of extreme lethargy.

HOLY FUCK!  A LAZY VIRUS! 

Now if you add to the fact that I am about the laziest critter that was ever squoze out in the first place…  a lethargy virus attacking a lazy bastard…  Isn't that like pouring a liter of mineral water into the bass pond?

Reading back now…  WTF was I writing about in the first place…  Ah!  The incredible vileness that is Sam's Choice Grape Soda.  Got it.

Check it out:

5-6 days a week, I'm out the door at the ass-crack of dawn, off to make my daily crust with as little effort as possible.  Usually, on the seventh day, I have some construction project, karate meet, or some sort of other event the gods roped me into in the vast intergalactic conspiracy to get me out of bed before noon.  I am NOT used to being given a free morning around the house.  Consequently, I am not mentally, physically, or emotionally prepared to deal with breakfast around the house.  A snarled pleasantry and a furtive exchange of currency for goods at the local McCrack nets me an addictive McMuffin and I'm good until lunch.  Not today…  No, the lethargy virus is twisting the ole' sack around and I didn't want to go out and hunt and gather. 

Keeping in mind what I said about breakfast supplies, the only breakfasty-type drink in my fridge is a keg of beer.  It's not JUST for breakfast anymore, but it can serve in a pinch.  The problem is that I have to go run a crew in a few hours, and nobody needs me showing up all twisted because I drank my breakfast.  Rummaging around the fridge, I noticed that somebody (prolly Kitty) left some Grape Soda in there.  A HA!  I don't have any Moon Pies to go with it, but Grape Soda is ½ a tasty, nutritious breakfast!  I poured myself a glass and went in search of something to balance it out.  I almost puked my toenails out. 

UNHOLY FUCKWEASEL!  How the fuck can you mess up Grape Soda?  99.999% sugar water, .001% artificial grape shit!  How hard is that?  Sam's Choice fucked it up!  It was the most repugnant shit I have ingested since I bit Teef!  My god!  I didn't want to brush my teeth, I wanted to pull them all out! 

I'm still horking up suspicious substances.

I have always avoided store brands of sodas, and never known why.  My lizard brain was taking care of me.  I always figured that if I was going to buy a heavily sugared, caramelized drink that tastes like malted battery acid, I'd spend the extra 10 cents and get the name brand.  Now I know why.  How can a company that produces such sheer brilliance in some food products (Wal-Mart rotisserie Bar-B-Q chicken is AWESOME, if you have not tried it, you NEED TO.  Lock it in the trunk, or it won't make it home…) make such ass-like food products also?  It is a mystery of life.