“Asking a question is embarassing for a moment, but not asking is embarassing for a lifetime.”

Double Cola
“Double Pleasure, Double Measure.” Extremely bland bottle and label. Ugly “necessary” information, boring black cap. I like the colour scheme, but this is honestly one of the least interesting bottle designs I’ve seen.

Very light scent that is primarily comprised of kola, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Texture is good, but on the sticky side. There’s a small amount of tongue bite, but nothing near mass marketed drinks. Carbonation is low medium; not flat, but calm. Deeper than normal colour.
Flavour is somewhat watered down, but contains all the flavours that the scent predicts. There’s also an earthy, raw, rough but very enjoyable flavour beneath. Fairly low citrus and vanilla flavouring, but still a very standard cola.
Makes mouth sticky quickly and is above-average filling. There’s a light refreshing aftertaste. Not many nuances to the flavour, and nothing new is revealing itself. Caffeine content is good, at least – an early and pleasant buzz.

Label: 1 The colour scheme is decent. That is all.
Bottle: 1 Nothing whatsoever to make it stand apart.
Colour: 2 Darker than beautiful. This would get a 3, but the flavour does not match the strength of the colour at all.
Nose: 4 Wonderful, just a bit simple.
Density: 3 Good density, but too sticky.
Flavour: 3 Solid flavour, just nothing unique.
Caffeine: 5 Comes in quick and feels good. An above average buzz. Rather uplifting.

Overall: 3/5
Average: 54% or 19/35

A standard and solid cola that is poorly packaged. I doubt this could be anyone’s “favourite,” but definitely better than mass marketed cola. If it could be found for a price similar or slightly more expesive than Coca Cola, it’d be a worthy replacement. In line with my belief that colas should be enjoyed and not simply swallowed, I’d say this is a useless beverage. I realize not everyone has that belief however, and for those who have a “normal rotation,” – their “fall back” or cheaper drinks when company is over, this would be it. There is little unique or outstanding about this, but it could have been far worse.

Apostrophes tell no tale that do not stem from this chamber.  When forgetful hearts mar forgiven sports, the moon will not rise four times this month.  Everything is blasphemous; the world rages in terror, unforgiving.  My soul would screech while tethers bleed, flames breed – cinders need.  Don’t rage, but forgive; our lives are not ours, but to give.  Oh, but the breath!  The breath would simmer our spines, scorching our eyes, bowing, lacking pride.  The earth speaks and rumbles no lies; no shodden hammer tied.  This shack made of wood collapses on us.  Gone are nails.  Gone is the breeze.  Let torrents fill their place.  Let torrents feel my face.  Let the tips of our fingers scrape against no creation, but let them help it along.Forging on into no unknown land, this brow is crossed, broken, flowing.  These feet are bare and sore.  Barren shores, bear in scorn.  Let not that wave abolish our Dear, but let us raise heat in fear (quick and sharp tears).  Amber recedes to each of their needs; shouting at seas, burying our knees.  But are our shins as sharp?  Have we fine-tuned the harp?  Do ribbons run deep and coffins carried in dark?  Is this a lip we now kiss and swallow true bliss?  Can we rage with failed fists or burn sunken ships?  Bury these trysts in the sturdiest of mitts?  Wallow in the midst and cower in mist?  Turn from vain fits while minutes flit as fish?  Looking not for a wish in the sky, torn to bits.  Avoiding male hits while the Dear sits?  Begging for form in the doctor’s lost kits?Oh, but our life!  This life we hold dear – we form feeble bonds and shine ’til it’s clear.

Shipwrecked

10-3-10

Deep dark window, sealed with bolts; purposefuly shut tight. Silk shine, still sharper lines, getting ready for your fall. Fog horn, you call. They line up, they unfurl: “Boys on this side, this side girls.” You’re finding all these seas had to offer. You’re finding all this world has to offer tonite. They warned you; I know I warned you.
Painted smiles, painted eyes – this wishy washy paradise. For a cup filled with ice – you like it cold. You’re so bold to state your beliefs, scribbling them on parchment- on parchment leaves. They ship it all to my Wife of Folly. It’s all your fault, oh Capitan. Your shoes are fixed just right, you could use some help with that tie. Unfog, I beg; unfog, I beg; unfog, I beg; unfog. I could really use these eyes about now. I’m begging and pleading: “Show me how.” How can I fly with no idea? You’ve no idea.
Full frame, immortalize us in flame. Sink down with me, I beseech thee. Sink down deep in me, and try to reach me. Easily accessible and screwing bolts – that dark deep blue rushes in and rushes in. We’ve problems-a-plenty. We’ve sprung leaks… so many. You’re working hard. Let the boiler room boil in these underwater flames. All those that work that were coming – they kept spurning their heart. They’ve done their part. They’ll leach as we spin. We’ll sing to whirlwinds. Hands all around in stripes; this immortal nite belongs to us and no one within. I’m within.
Hey, cover those windows! Block out light! Shutter closed! Let’s make it airtight! And let smoke steal its freshness from us. Let us keel over as we kill our lungs, as it’s a too-simple metaphor for our selves and for our sanity.
Smokestacks or sails or waterwheels or oars or hands that propel – you’re done. We’re happy. We haven’t quite reached our destination, or have we? Is our destination too heavy? We’re sinking. All of our minds together, thinking. Let’s join our wrists in a similar fashion. It wont help, but still – it’s some purposeful action to keep our minds on a one track line. Think of all those lands at home, and share a final smoke. No one will tell them; they’ll search for years, covering their helpless fears. Clouded blue.
Blue and white. That Little-Pony-Tails will cry: “Where have they gone? Why have they gone? Will they return?” I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

I still have several cola reviews written and ready, but I’m going to try out writing different beverages, starting with one very close to my heart – Coffee.

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Peace Coffee Nicaraguan

This has been my brand of choice for the past two years or so after browsing online looking for a better alternative to the brands our grandparents drank.
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The beans themselves look to be a medium roast – relatively shiny, but nowhere near black; a good solid brown, with darker speckles here and there.  Unground scent is spicy; slightly acrid.  There’s a slight foresty scent to it – exotic wood rather than earth.  Light caramel notes with a very mild soapiness hiding beneath.  The spice blossoms when ground.  The wood opens up a bit as well, and citrus hints are developing.  For reference, I ground just slightly finer than medium, or the normal grind for drip pots.
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My brewing method today is the Moka Pot, an Italian staple that makes near-espresso strength coffee.  I love my Moka Pot – it’s easy to clean, makes brewing bitter coffee difficult, as opposed to French Presses, which I also love but don’t like having to drink the entire pot within twenty minutes to taste peak.  The Moka Pot seems to bring out a lot of sweeter flavours, no matter the bean.  You can also add hot water to the espresso to make an Americano, or at least weaken it to drip-level.  It also looks impressive as it brews!  I definitely recommend it.
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As expected, the brew is thicker than what most coffee drinkers would normally being accustomed to.  Not quite at true espresso density or turkish coffee (which I need to try someday soon.)  Fortunately, the spice made its way to the final product.  Vanilla has also came out of nowhere, seemingly taking the place of the citrus notes, which I can’t seem to locate in the brew.  The woodiness has came through strong as well.
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The first taste reveals a heavy flat smokey flavour at first.  Pleasantly thick, I can’t distinguish the vanilla.  Some earthiness comes out, prancing about the wood that has made it from start to finish.  As assumed, there’s still spiciness at play here.  Not exactly a “smooth” brew, but rather a “jolt.”  Take your pick.  Aftertaste is delectable, with no lingering bitterness.
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My numbering rating is going to be a bit different than my colas, so bear with me until I come up with a standard system.  I would like to include Body/Density & Acidity, but I feel like these are much too dependent on the brewing method.  Maybe I’ll go back and brew this through altrenate methods and update then, but I won’t include these variables in the overall rating for now.  Likewise with caffeiene, this is coffee, not cola!  Unless noted, caffeine content will be 5/5.
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Nose:  4 – There’s plenty here that excites the nose.  I have no doubt that few would hesitate to select after inhaling.  Unfortunately, not all it suggests is carried through to the end.
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Flavour:  4 – Not quite as complex as the aroma, but still extremely firm in what it does.  Seems like a rather masculine and exotic drink.
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Aftertaste:  5 – Perfect, in my opinion.  Completely tolerable and enjoyable.  The perfect balance between making me want to savour it on my tongue, and go back for another sip.
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Overall:  87% or 13/15.
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Conclusion:  If you like your morning nectar strong, spicy, and exotic, this one is for you.
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The website has its own description of the beans, but I write my reviews well after I’ve forgotten what it said.  Here’s their quick description:
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“Robust, sweet & smooth single origin coffee that also works well as an espresso.
Roast Level: Medium
Acidity:Low
Body:Medium-Heavy
Aroma: Spice, jasmine, vanilla & raisin
Flavor Notes: Spice, nutty, cedar, earth & leather”

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So there you have it.

While passing time inhaling weak smoke without letting it seep into my lungs, I paced in cold sweat. Past victories restored no warmth within me as I erratically rubbed my scalp. Holding my phone to my left ear, the ringing kept on in frustratingly steady rhythm. I try the three numerical variations, all to no avail, and shove my phone, hot from the Sun, into my back pocket.

I see a man, bag tucked beneath his arm, walking to the highest point on this rooftop parking lot. His tie flaps in the cool breeze that’s made its way a mere three miles inshore. The tips of the flapping cloth are of perfectly equal length – a fashion conscience man. The light blue shirt is well fitted, and his metal heels tap the Sun seared concrete, with worn parking lines and crumpled tire stops to match.

He doesn’t turn to look at me, but I attempt to appear politely preoccupied by looking at the light poles, glimpsing about in search of cameras. There are none. He stared down from the ledge and I turn to blow the smoke downwind. I had the same thought as you do now, and when I turned, I was alone.

Some nites, as I secure the latch to our household, I grow afraid.  My feet request permission to take on a life of their own, so that they may step out the gate and not stop.  The possibilities truly have no end.  My shoes hug tightly to my skin, promising safety and comfort for whichever journey I choose.  The wind blows at my back, compelling me onward.  The stars stand straight, guiding and lighting all paths.  I fear the possibilities; being handed what I want, and turning away.

But at dawn, will I want the same?  Nite compelling me onwards…  A song sung only to me.  I have her, who I cannot leave behind.  I would journey with her.  If my mind could be reality, and reality my mind, I would close this gate behind me… rather than securing this lock to my own cage.

Pig Iron Cola

A label leaning more towards the “rougher others,” reminiscent of bikers and southern bbq.  Ugly handling of necessary information, but easily distinguishable ‘pig’ logo.  The bottle is standard and boring.  The cap is roughed up black paint with the aluminum showing through.  It looks like it happened naturally, which would be unique – but it could have been accidental.  I’m going to give them the benefit of the doubt.  There is no information on the bottle that hints at the flavour, so I’m not sure what to expect.  Good cola colour, just a bit dark.
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First scent is kola and citrus – seems standard fare for a cola.  Slightly cherry scent, but not medicinal.  Strong kola flavour is carried well over from the scent with lemon, orange, and some very slight nuttiness.  The sugar content tastes microbrewed – it’s a nice break from the colas I haven’t really enjoyed these past couple reviews.
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There’s some cinnamon coming out of the kola, along with vanilla to a lesser amount.
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Texture is pretty much perfect.  The teeth feel slightly chalky afterwards.  The aforementioned flavours kind of bounce back and forth as I deplete the bottle.
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Carbonation is good; doesn’t fizz up too much, but definitely not flat.
This brings nothing new to the cola “table,” but what it does, it does right.  One of the best standard colas I’ve ever had.  Finally, it’s not very filling; can’t wait for that next sip.
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Label:  2 Decent enough logo – it stands out – but the rest of the label is boring and ugly.  Definitely reminiscent of “BBQ,” which is who it’s made by.
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Bottle:  3 The cap is genius, but the rest of the bottle is as boring as they come.  They balance out for a perfectly average score.
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Colour:  4 As I said earlier, just a bit dark.
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Nose:  5 There is a slight variety of flavours.  Typically, I would say it’s not too complex.  Why I refrain, however, because what scents there are, are classic cola.  No strange herbs, spices, or fruits.
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Density: 4 Other than the chalky feel of the teeth, no negatives.
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Flavour:  5 This is cola, make no mistake about it.
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Caffeine: 3 Nothing spectactular.  I felt some effects.  Perfectly Average.
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Overall:  5/5
Let’s get this straight.  This is not the best cola I’ve had, nor is it my favourite.  It is nothing new and doesn’t impress.  One word can sum this up:  Solid.  I like colas with strange new flavours that are done right and make me mouth “Wow.”  Pig Iron Cola makes me mouth “Mm.”  This should be the replacement of Classic Coca-Cola.
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Average:  3.17 or 26/35
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Conclusion:  For cola lovers, I can’t see any beverage being better than this.  Those who like to stray from the normal cola path won’t find anything to impress them here, but for those who love cola for cola – this is your drink.

Jones Sugar-Free cola
Jones Sugar-Free Cola
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This is the most mass-marketed of colas I’ve done so far.  I’ve actually never tried any sort of Jones Soda, and I’ve always thought their logos were pretty ugly.  The bottle itself is a run-of-the-mill one, and the cap is more modern with the breakable seal; it doesn’t contribute to my enjoyment of the drinking experience.  The necessary information is proudy displayed on the back with no regard to style – this one even has a UPC code.
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I wasn’t actually aware this was a sugar-free cola when I purchased it, but since it goes to such great lengths on the back to claim it has no “diet” aftertaste, I’m keeping my same standards as with any other normal bottle.
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The colour is great – typical cola, which is a good thing.  The smell is pretty pungent, however.  There’s a healthy dosage of kola, a lot of citrus, and the smell of artificial sweetner.  Combined, it smells a bit chemical-y.
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The carbonation content is incredible.  The flavour is a definite cola, but even before swalling, it’s obvious something is “off.”  Look, I’ve never once enjoyed a diet soda in my two decades and change.  If you want a review of this zero-calorie offering compared to other zero-calorie offerings, perhaps there’s an article in Women’s Health.  I’d be slightly softer on this, but their claim to no “diet” aftertaste burns bright in my mind and sharp on my tongue as I drink this.
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Half way done with the bottle – still tastes the same; still overly carbonated. Admittedly, the aftertaste doesn’t last as long as any other diet soda I’ve had, but less bad is still bad.
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The citrus, kola, and light vanilla is still in there.  I don’t taste any spice or nuttiness.  With each sip comes the Splenda.
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The texture is good, fortunately, but it’s extremely filling – I want to stop half way through.
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I let someone else take a sip, “That’s not the best diet I’ve ever drank.  Diet Coke is better.”  Coming from someone who has never delved into gourmet soda, I would expect they’d be more impressed.
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Flavour is constant throughout the bottle.
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It’s [hardly] saving grace: beneath the lid, it reads “A trip by air is in your future.”  Well actually, I’ll be flying out West in less than three weeks.  I’m not dropping $2.00 everytime I want to be told something I know, though.
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Bottle: 1 Boring with an ugly cap.
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Label: 1 Bland and pretty ugly.
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Colour: 4 The colour was great.  Nothing unique, but definitely solid.
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Nose: 1 It was a bit frightening, to be honest.  There was a bit of a “I have to drink this?” moment.  There was a kola scent alright, but is that saying much when you’re drinking a cola?
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Density: 4 Not watery, not thick, not sticky.  Makes the teeth a bit chalky.
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Flavour: 1 Goodness, it was bad.  Once again, if you’re coming from a diet background, by all means – give me a piece of your mind.  But drinking diet soda is like drink O’Douls:  It rips away its very purpose of existence.
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Caffeine: 2 There was something there, but not notable.
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Overall: 1/5
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Average: 2/5 or 14/35
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Conclusion:  I’m glad I got this one out of the way.  This is no breakthrough in diet soda making.  Buy something cheaper if you must drink Splenda or Aspartame.  Don’t drink diet soda.  My entire mission is to find colas that taste magnificent and are consumed sparingly for enjoyment.  Diet soda is a water substitute – a cardinal No No.  There are some that may love the flavour of Diet, and I can’t see how that possibly happened, save years of putting oneself through this torture.

Free feelings for everyone.  Staring in a screen, dark, it’s not my heart that wishes, but my mind.  That superficial aspect of me that I always take too seriously.  Simplicity is the root of joy, the route of peace.  Dark caramalization holds little answers other than those that allow you to lower your inhibitions.  To what extent do those inhibitions exist?  There are far more pressing problems than what we are thinking if your entire being changes so rapidly.  Watching these fingers type, what am I to do when they don’t seem to be my own?  Is my own mind so clouded that I fail to concentrate daily?  If we are all faced with impossibilities, do we relate how we handle them to one another so that we may fulfill a more noble purpose?

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