Why You Should Drink Pepsi Max

It never occurred to me when I gave birth to this beautiful bullshit blog (alliteration, check it) that I’d resort to going around door-to-door forcing people to read it. And then waiting for them to LOL. That’s nothing but shameless self promotion, and I’m over it. No, from now on I’ll be writing the most nipple-hardening, boner-inducing, just got some dingus juice on my v-neck because I wasn’t paying attention-literature you will ever come across. And no more cheap Google image searches to find a picture of the soda I’m sampling. With all the capabilities of modern cell phones, such as T9 texting, setting of alarm clocks, and postage stamps, I think my readers deserve something more genuine.

That’s right. You are looking at a picture of Pepsi Max in front of a picture of Pepsi Max on my computer. It took me three hours to come up with that. According to the laws of physics, the universe should have ended when I created that creation, but because this blog is better than Oprah Winfrey in her prime, we were able to secure a pardon. Anyway, with this long and anxiously awaited installment, I’d like to pursue a separate route from the usual. Instead of meticulously dissecting and analyzing this evening’s soft drink, I’d like to focus on Erik Csontos. Now some of you may not be familiar with Erik Csontos, and you may be thinking there is no use reading about him, and you’re probably right. In any case, you should avoid him like the plague. And not like some weak bubonic plague, I’m talking the government just shifted the terror alert level to orange – plague. Is that really a type of plague? Honestly, the argument can be made either way, but that’s beside the point. I’m not gonna just keep telling you how horrible of a person Erik is. Like any brilliant writer, I will support my claim with concrete evidence and irrefutable facts.

Fact: Erik is the younger brother of Matt. Fact: Erik would be lucky if he could hold a candle to Matt, let alone a torch, let alone a zippo lighter (not really sure if you can do two let alones back to back, and I’d appreciate some feedback on this issue). Evidence: When Matt was in grade school, he was such a badass he would spark cigarettes in the middle of class, and then flick the cig butts in the teacher’s eye. The teacher would then thank Matt for gracing not only her, but the class with his aura of aesthetic beauty. Erik, on the other hand, still wears a diaper and sharts whenever he gets nervous, which is every time he has to talk to someone. Note: Sharting is funny and you know it.

I’ve always thought the relationship between Matt and Erik to be similar to the relationship between Pau and Marc Gasol. Matt is to Pau as Erik is to Marc. Matt & Pau are both champions, while Erik & Marc sleep with night lights and are NOT champions. The only exception to this comparison is that unlike Marc, Erik possesses no skill, talent, or competency on any level. Furthermore, Erik and his friends started going to Dadz wings after Matt and his friends started the tradition decades ago. I remember my first time copying my older brothers’ friends tradition. What I’m trying to say is, Erik, you’re a dead man. Don’t tell your parents about this either, you twat-fairy.

Pictured below: Older brother Matt, Being a BOSS