Now I'm not normally one for energy drinks, they all taste like some weird mix of ginseng and motor oil to me, but I just couldn't resist the allure of the Pimpjuice. Perhaps this is where SnoopDogg and P-Diddy get their mojo that keeps pubescent hoochie mamas squealing and sliding out of their daisy dukes. It IS P-Diddy now isn't it? Or is it Puffy? Puff Daddy? What the hell does that guy go by these days? I've never seen anyone go through so many ridiculous names since Prince became [unpronouncable symbol thingy]. Anyway, regardless of what Sean Combs is calling himself these days, I figured I better get as pimped out as possible before trying the Pimpjuice. Lacking a suitable leopard or zebra print hat with electric purple feather edging, my husband's Indiana Jones hat woud have to do. It's not really Indiana Jones' hat, it isn't even exactly the same style. It's just what I've grown to call it, and it was as close to pimp garb that I could find.
Yeah, not very pimp-like, I know. Hopefully what I was about to do would help. So I popped the tab on the can. The can that somehow reminded me of the color scheme of the Buick I've seen riding around town. The Buick that is bright orange with a white top, chrome blingin' everywhere, and spinners of course. I think I even spotted dingle-balls around the headliner that last time I saw it cruisin' 'round da hood. This thing is the ultimate pimp ride. And Pimpjuice comes in the ultimate pimp can.
The color of the actual Pimpjuice was bright green and looked as if it would glow under a blacklight. I took a whiff of the aroma emenating from the can and was suprised to find that the smell was intensely fruity, not quite what I would expect from the essence of big pimpin' but since I know very little of pimps, I could be way off here. Hopefully enlightenment would come once I tasted the stuff.
And my initial reaction:
Pimpjuice is DISGUSTING! The flavor was not at all unlike that of the flouride rinse dentists give children at the end of a visit before handing them a piece of candy. Isn't that kind of ironic that dentists would give children candy? I mean, the stuff supposedly rots your teeth right? And if your teeth are rotting, then you have to go see the dentist. Ah, the business model finally presents itself here. Pimpjuice would no doubt have sent me running to the nearest building donning a sign reading "So-and-so, DDS" had I not poured the majority of it down the drain. The stuff was so horribly sweet that it came as no suprise that the second ingredient listed (after water) was high fructose corn syrup. Yuck! I'm not sure where that flouride tanginess came from, but that (thankfully) was not one of the listed ingredients. However, I could not find any ingredients that would indicate this as an energy drink. It just had all the usual crap that comes in a soda, minus the carbonation. There wasn't even any ginseng, but I was actually glad for that since that's usually what I hate so much about energy drinks.
So there you have it. Pimpjuice, aside from the asthetically pleasing can, left much to be desired and didn't make me feel like any more of a pimp than I already was. It looked like engine coolant, smelled like a Flintstones vitamin, tasted like flouride rinse, and didn't give me any extra energy at all. I'm suprised that I managed to choke down even a few sips. But hey, pimpin' aint easy.
