Ode to Mountain Dew
You are so yellow or kind of green and when I find you in a can say at a gas station or a convenience store there are few things that can make happier.
When I need a rush of flavor, taste and extreme caffeine, you step on the scene with your yellow and kind of green and make my whole body cool with your mysterious ingredients.
Sometimes when I get you from the fountain they do not balance the soda syrup and the carbonated water quite right and this makes me kind of sad. I also find your taste somewhat muted when I sip you from a plastic bottle. That is why when I find you in that can, that little 12 ounce aluminum container, I am filled with such immense joy that I can hardly contain the smile as I walk down the aisle towards the gas station or convenience store clerk. Many places do not have you in a can at all; sometimes when they do I am confronted with the ethical dilemma of whether or not I should tear you away from a six pack and whether or not the clerk will know I have done so. But even if he or she does, you are worth it. You are my little happy guy. It is you, my little Mountain Dew. It has always been you. Sure there has been the steady relationship with Pepsi, even the occasional date with Dr. Pepper or other such exotics. And Sprite and Seven-Up where always there for me when I needed them, but they could never give me what you do for me. Some people dont get you Mountain Dew. They call you names, like Hillbilly Piss or Mountain Poo and say you remind them of urine or perhaps something you would put into an automobile engine. I used to get upset, and though I still defend you from this slander, I now realize that it is they who are being harmed by this. For they will not experience they love that you so generously share with all who care to take it. And I do, Mountain Dew.
Oh, I Dew.
You are so yellow or kind of green and when I find you in a can say at a gas station or a convenience store there are few things that can make happier.
When I need a rush of flavor, taste and extreme caffeine, you step on the scene with your yellow and kind of green and make my whole body cool with your mysterious ingredients.
Sometimes when I get you from the fountain they do not balance the soda syrup and the carbonated water quite right and this makes me kind of sad. I also find your taste somewhat muted when I sip you from a plastic bottle. That is why when I find you in that can, that little 12 ounce aluminum container, I am filled with such immense joy that I can hardly contain the smile as I walk down the aisle towards the gas station or convenience store clerk. Many places do not have you in a can at all; sometimes when they do I am confronted with the ethical dilemma of whether or not I should tear you away from a six pack and whether or not the clerk will know I have done so. But even if he or she does, you are worth it. You are my little happy guy. It is you, my little Mountain Dew. It has always been you. Sure there has been the steady relationship with Pepsi, even the occasional date with Dr. Pepper or other such exotics. And Sprite and Seven-Up where always there for me when I needed them, but they could never give me what you do for me. Some people dont get you Mountain Dew. They call you names, like Hillbilly Piss or Mountain Poo and say you remind them of urine or perhaps something you would put into an automobile engine. I used to get upset, and though I still defend you from this slander, I now realize that it is they who are being harmed by this. For they will not experience they love that you so generously share with all who care to take it. And I do, Mountain Dew.
Oh, I Dew.
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How are you doing lately?
I've personally been doing shitty... guy drama (as usual, that's nothing new), financial troubles, loneliness...
Hope you're doing ok.
xoxo