Simon – This is our inaugural “Round 2” post, where we revisit bottles we tried more than a year ago. It’s written by guest reviewer AJ, university friend, former nemesis, former roommate, fellow Centretown Rhino Party member & snake handler. He’s also written a companion piece to this review over at ajvalliant.com. Enjoy!
I found the bottle on my doorstep with a note. Simon had abandoned it there like some loveless orphan. I didn’t want it either. I’m not entirely convinced this isn’t some convoluted assassination attempt, with the cruel twist of me writing my own obituary.
The container is shaped like an olde tyme bottle of iodine or laudanum, and lord do I wish it was either. The brand name is Proof. I cannot speak to their initial quandary, however, it proved the following matters beyond refute: the maliciousness of my friend, the absence of god in the world, and the medical necessity of the lining formerly protecting my stomach.
Taste: Like a lingering open mouth kiss from a gasoline drinking hobo
Smell: The hands of a carnie who just sabotaged a tilt-a-whirl
Neat: Initial foulness pops like a bubble of evil giving way to a surprisingly clean finish
Splash: Much like an oil fire, adding water serves only to spread the blaze over a larger surface area.
Filtered through a tea towel I found behind the stove: Dusty but tolerable, notes of centipede, cat dander softens worst of kerosene burn.
Ice: Applied to tongue and throat post quaff to numb sensation
Try it? Only if necessitated as proof of manhood à la Amazonian tribesman enduring the sting of the bullet ant
Buy it? Only if sold with rag and lighter as part of Molotov Cocktail kit.
Inflict it on others? Much like the video from “The Ring” I can only cleanse my pallet by baiting others into drinking this.