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And I hate Mountain Dew, because Pepsi Co hates me. I have successfully drank every single one of the new flavors of the “Dewmocracy” — God damn, I hate saying that — and not one of them were good. You know what? I liked Game Fuel; I love Code Red; and LiveWire. (And being a gamer — by default — you have to drink Mountain Dew, which I’ve had no complaints about in the past.) Even Pitch Black, if any of you know what that is. I enjoy Mountain Dew products.

Not anymore, dear reader.

I have concluded that, not only did these “Dew Drinker” designers market ipecac to the general public, Pepsi and friends want you to feel like you’re involved. You know how you can get involved? By giving real money. To real corporations. Almost as crazy as that sounds, that’s exactly what you’re doing.

Hey, check it out! We get to pick the new flavor of Mountain Dew! In our Dewmocracy! If you look at the SuperNova with bloodshot eyes, it kinda looks red. And the Voltage is blue! So if you vote for SuperNova, you’re a Republicac. And if you vote for Voltage, you’re a Dewmocrat!

Enough of that — I’m pretty much going to describe the way that Revolution, Voltage, and SuperNova taste for you. The best way I can, without puking. (I should get paid for this.)

Revolution: I like wild berries, especially drinks flavored like wild berries. And thankfully, Revolution is the only one out of the three that isn’t “charged” or “blasted” with another completely different flavor. Wild berries. It must be good, right? Hell no. It’s less sour than Voltage and SuperNova, and it tastes like an alcoholic beverage, which is very depressing, since you’re not drinking an alcoholic beverage — and you should be, if you’re drinking this by choice.

Voltage: This is disgusting. On the outside of the bottle it claims to have a “raspberry citrus” flavor. All I taste are blue-raspberry balls with caramelized sugar, topped off with some good ol’ fashion  loss of dignity. It smells like it is going to burn my nose hairs off.

SuperNova: SuperNova tastes like a hot chick you’re making out with who had way too many pomegranate martinis and you’re totally scoring tonight — or so you thought. She just puked in your mouth, buddy. It says there’s “strawberry melon” in there, but I don’t taste strawberry, and I sure as hell don’t taste melon. If you ask me, strawberries and melons go well together in drinks just like bleach and Drain-o go well together in drinks. I know why they call this SuperNova — instead of a “stellar explosion,” you get an explosion of brain cells, wondering why you actually spent money to drink this crap.

You hear me, Mountain Dew? I fucking hate you.

Let’s be completely honest here. This seems really silly, but I think it’s awesomely cool to see a product that proves you’re doing something better than before. Listerine Smart Rinse is one of those products. I could just see the guy who came up with this:

IDEA PUSHER: ‘Ey boss, I gots a great ideas for a products. (For some reason, this Idea Pusher sounds like Toki from Metalocalypse.)

BOSS: Mrhrhrmrhm.

IDEA PUSHER: Okay, okay, okay, okay, check it — kids likes gross stuffs, right? And what’s the hardest things to gets your kids to dos?

BOSS: Mrhmm.

IDEA PUSHER: Rights! Brush their teeths. So what ifs we makes a mouthwash that shows thems whats they cleaned out?

BOSS: Brilliant!

So here it is, lo and behold, the Smart Rinse. The claim is to be gross and cool at the same time, by showing kids bacteria and food particles in their mouths by tinting them a different color. There are two flavors: Mint Shield and Berry Shield. I wouldn’t know anything about Berry Shield because, as most intelligent people know, b + c = g, one of the oldest equations known to man. (Not to mention, pink hygiene products make me want to vomit.) Since there are only two flavors, I am stuck with Mint Shield.

Right on the front of the bottle, in all its blue glory, are the letters POST-BRUSH, which evidently mean you’re supposed to brush your teeth first, but I don’t know — I’m just guessing. I suppose if you did swish this Hooked on Phonics version of Listerine before brushing, you would divide by zero.

Exaggerations aside, the directions call for you to swish — after brushing, mind you — for a minute. The taste of Mint Shield was mild at most and didn’t really taste minty. It left my mouth feeling clean, but “sticky,” if you know what I mean. Over the course of a few days, swishing at different intervals, I noticed that if you spit out the rinse before a minute’s time, there wouldn’t be any green-tinted flakes in the sink. If you went over a minute, same thing. You almost need to time yourself to see any speckles of nasty in your sink.

Charlie, however, tried it with me and seemed to have more flakes at different times than me. I suppose it’s a hit-and-miss, then. Or maybe it just depends on how well you brush. Either way, I was disappointed with how few I saw, especially since I am hella interested in that kind of thing.

Price: $4.99

Pros

• Shows kids that brushing/rinsing helps
• Doesn’t burn like regular Listerine
• Leaves mouth feeling clean, albeit “sticky”
• Good for kids, probably not so much for adults

Cons

• You will feel the urge to make up an excuse as to why you’re buying a kid’s version of Listerine, you wimp
• Hit-or-miss with the tinted particles
• It is not as cool as in the commercial

Rating: 3 out of 5