open sadness

Last night, I had some Coca-Cola Classic out of a can for the first time in a while, and, for some reason, I was blown away by how terrible it tasted, and also by how awful it immediately made me feel.

I don’t know what science has to say about this, but all of the experiments I conducted last night with this swill have forced me to conclude that there is no amount of vodka nor whisky able to convert Coca-Cola Classic into a tolerable substance.

Although, perhaps if I wore the same pair of contact lenses for 8 months without removing or cleaning them at all, causing me to develop a deep brain infection, which in turn lead to a mild case of bell’s palsy, paralyzing half of my taste buds, then perhaps I could learn love drinking a case of this stuff every week.

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