Do Not Drink: 5 Terrible Sodas That Taste Like Hell on Earth

Lots of people say Twitter is a very silly waste of time and that people only say stupid things on it. But sometimes you can find some true gems of wisdom like this one from my favorite ex-convict, Martha Stewart. OMG.

The head of the blue whale the largest animal that ever lived

— Martha Stewart (@MarthaStewart) November 22, 2013

Ah, the majestic blue whale. I don’t actually know what she’s talking about. I don’t think anyone knows what she’s talking about, unless she learned about the head of the blue whale while she was in prison. You learn a lot of interesting things in prison.

I’m extremely sexual right now. — Aaron Carter (@aaroncarter) January 1, 2013

Here is another one of my favorites. Aaron Carter is the brother of famous Backstreet Boy singer, Nick Carter. He uses Twitter to really bare his soul to the world.

But when it comes to Twitter, I like to use it to ask famous people tough questions. That little penguin should look familiar to you.

.@realDonaldTrump Hi Donald, big fan. What’s the best kind of swimsuit to hide an erection?

— Fart Sandwich (@FartSandwich) May 29, 2015

A lot of times, though, at least when it comes to cool food news and information, Twitter can help you keep up with restaurants, chefs, and writers. I follow Mike Sula, the food critic at the Chicago Reader. One day I was about to go to bed when he posted this one:

Sometimes I come home and think I’m in the right place and then … pic.twitter.com/Cc3g8irrHi

— Mike Sula (@MikeSula) January 25, 2015

And I knew, deep inside, I had to have these magical, terrible-looking sodas so I could pour them into my soda hole too. One day I was wandering around Hell (an outdoor shopping mall in Glenview called The Glen) and found a really cool store called Rocket Fizz. Rocket Fizz sells an unreal amount of craft sodas, old-fashioned regional candy, and gag gifts. And there, like a shining beacon from your mother’s ass, they were all lined up in a beautiful, terrifying, row.

Of course, like an idiot, I bought all five of them.

Yes, you’re seeing this correctly: Bacon Soda with Chocolate, Sweet Corn Soda, Peanut Butter and Jelly Soda, Buffalo Wing Soda, and, oh God, Ranch Dressing Soda. They are all made by a company called Lester’s Fixins. I did some snooping around and learned that Lester’s Fixins is actually a brand owned by Rocket Fizz, as you can see here. Rocket Fizz, as in the same candy shop I bought them from.

Jesus Christ.

The first one I tried was the Bacon Soda with Chocolate. As a soda, it’s not all that unpleasant — and it’s easy to drink. It has a mild chocolate flavor with a very faint burnt wood aftertaste. I thought there would be more of an acrid bitter fake-bacon flavor to it, but the artificial bacon flavor is so tiny that it’s really not an issue.

Next, I uncapped the dehydrated-pee looking Sweet Corn Soda. I was immediately hit in the face with the overwhelming smell of sweet canned corn that trailed off into an odor that became slightly synthetic as time passed. Sweet corn is one of my favorite foods to eat straight from the can, as I wrote in this post. So I started off being pretty delighted and just a little scared.

The issue is that the longer you smell it, the more it smells like unwashed hair that’s been doused in sugar. Your mother doesn’t bathe much and douses her hair in powdered sugar so it smells about the same as the top of her head. And it does taste like carbonated water from canned corn, but it ends in a strange cotton candy-like flavor that just keeps adding up. It’s disturbing but not that far off. I’m impressed.

Peanut Butter and Jelly Soda came next in the soda police lineup. I was skeptical about this one — and for good reason. Peanut is probably a hard flavor to recreate, which is my guess as to why the peanut flavor is very lacking in this soda. Overall, Peanut Butter and Jelly Soda tastes like the soda version of strawberry saltwater taffy. If there’s any peanut flavor in there, it’s nearly impossible to detect. I’d actually be okay drinking this one.

This is where I started getting nervous, because Buffalo Wing Soda? Are you serious? Why is this even real? Once you witness the existence of a product like this, it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Life becomes pointless. I was not feeling very good at this point after the three other dumb sodas so I looked at the floor and just fucking drank it.

The Buffalo Wing Soda has a strong initial scent note of garlic and a mix of toxins, but it’s seriously lacking in that eye-opening vinegar smell you get when you receive a piping hot order of buffalo wings at the bar. Otherwise, it tastes like orange soda with a raspy spice kick at the end that only stays in the back of your throat. Buffalo Wing Soda makes you feel like you’re coming down with a cold. It does not taste like buffalo wings.

This was the moment I was dreading during the entire taste test. Ranch Dressing Soda proves that there is no God. If you ran into church waving this bottle around, the pastor would just leave the pulpit and roam the world like a restless spirit, wondering how He could be this cruel to humanity.

Once I took my first whiff, I actually shook my head while gritting my teeth. Harvey, Mr. Bee, and their rabbit buddy Al, all looked at me and shook their little heads too. They would have prayed for me but they already knew after witnessing the existence of this soda that there would be no God listening to their prayers for me.

Ranch Dressing Soda smells like leftover lunch that’s been sitting in the office refrigerator for three months, that’s been doused in gasoline, and torched in a dumpster. I want to make a comment about your mother but even that would be too mean to her. It tastes like ranch dressing, yet it doesn’t taste like ranch dressing, and the sugar content makes it that much more disturbing. This soda tastes like a burnt Ken doll whose flames were doused with Satan’s semen.

But of course, I can never leave well enough alone, and I mixed the Buffalo Wing Soda with a touch of Ranch Dressing Soda — after all, it’s common practice to dip buffalo wings in ranch dressing, right? Well, this was as bad a mistake as any I’ve ever made, because I’m pretty sure I opened up a gateway to hell with this concoction. Some kind of demon actually jumped out of the glass and said, “Hey, Dannis, thanks for setting me free. Do you have any Twizzlers?”

It’s putrid, orangey, burnt-Ken-doll, raspy, bad, bad, bad. I’m going into shock just reliving this moment.

Don’t. Go away. I hate everything.