The word "ghetto" gets thrown around a lot these days, describing everything from a poor part of a particular town (which is mostly the accurate definition) to a sorority girl who's wearing sweats because it's laundry day and she didn't expect to run into any of her friends at the library (this is less accurate; most sorority girls cry if a black person looks at them at Target). However, I feel pretty comfortable in using the term to describe the convenience store that is located next door to my apartment complex. It is GHETTO, from end to end. They sell loosey cigarettes and condoms. They offer Wine-Flavored Swisher Sweets. They sell bootleg DVDs with titles like Crackheads Gone Wild
and Miss Best Booty 2007
(they're not even current in their stock of Best Booty competition videos, tsk). And, most importantly, they sell alcoholic beverages like this:
That's right. Joose. A malt liquor so "urban," it's spelled phonetically. I of course had to purchase myself a can. Because what down-market culinary adventurer could pass up a drink that comes adorned with what appears to be rejected Ed Hardy designs, or perhaps that's the alternate cover for Guns N' Roses' seminal album, "Appetite for Destruction?"
Let's take a look at some of the benefits Joose has to offer:9.9% ALC/Vol -
So it's strong. Or at least stronger than a can of beer, say, or even my beloved Steel Reserve. It packs a wallop, which is always appreciated by we drunks on a budget.Premium -
As opposed to what? St. Ides (which is basically distilled hobo pee)? Colt 45 (which makes your hair as greasy as Billy Dee Williams', no one knows why)? King Cobra (which turns your car into a Trans Am and your home into a double-wide)?Taurine, Ginsing, Caffeine -
Ah, nothing like mixing alcohol with stimulants, am I right? I said... AM I RIGHT? I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the frantic racing of my heart!!! My nose is bleeding and the lights are getting brighter...Natural Flavors -
Technically, "butt" is a natural flavor. Just sayin'.
It should also be pointed out that Joose features on its cans a piece of artwork depicting a menacing skull:
I was under the impression that skulls on bottles or cans of liquid meant that the contents were poisonous. Well, they're probably just trying to be all edgy and whatnot. As long as the liquid itself looks okay, I'm sure it's just fine:
Oooookay... It looks like the blood of a creature that comes from beyond the stars. It smells like someone set the mythical game-world of Candyland on fire. Looking at it for too long makes me doubt all the decisions I've ever made in my life, up to and including the purchase of a can of Joose.
But let's get down to what's REALLY important; how does it taste?
Awful. I mean... just... really, really awful. Imagine a Green Apple Jolly Rancher that decided to become a stripper, then ended up getting impregnated by a rubber floor mat from a pimped-out Escalade that got into a lot of wrecks. Joose tastes exactly like their baby; all sticky sweet, but with a mean undercurrent of charred sadness. I've been drinking it the whole time I've been writing this post and... not kidding... I've started to feel worse and worse about myself as I've gone on. This drink literally makes you depressed and, I'll grant the makers of Joose this, fairly tipsy. And hyper. It combines the worst parts of getting drunk with the bad after-effects of a Pixie Stix binge.
After having downed half the can, I'm officially giving up. I think to finish off the whole thing would be crossing a line that can't be uncrossed. I would be turning my back on all that is good and pure in the world. Love, sunshine, the joy of friendship and family... all meaningless words coughed into the ether. Joose allows no happiness. Only a blind, bright green high that consumes, obliterates, and on and on and on.
For real, Joose tastes like licking Willy Wonka's balls. Avoid at all costs, no matter how "ghetto" you're feeling.