Never Drink NOS.

All of a sudden I am in my 2008 Dodge Caliber screaming at the top of my lungs and going a hundred miles per hour down I-85. My chest was pounding and the highway lights were pulsating like a strobe in synch with my heartbeat. “Goddamn!” I hollered. “Shit!” I shrieked.

O my brothers and sisters alike.

It was if Odin himself had blessed me with the Berserker Rage.

Either that or I just snorted the whole Sheen family’s secret cave full of cocaine.

On the contrary, neither of those were the cause of my mania, because my fireball of madness was caused by a 16oz NOS Energy Drink.

The secret ingredient in NOS Energy Drink is actual NOS.

It started out innocent enough. My shift was almost over in the manufacturing plant that I work at, furthering the Capitalist Regime. The time was 2:45am; I get off work at 3:00am and I can be at the gym by 3:30am. I was roaming in the canteen, as I normally do, checking the fridges for food that has been in there all week and had not been touched. People are just going to throw it out anyway, why not put it to good use and eat it myself. Hell, that protein contained in the food is going to waste in the garbage, and that one bony African child whose fly-covered on the tele could be fed a hundred times over with the stuff we dumb Americans throw out. Besides, I was hungry, I was well on my way to work out, and I had already depleted my own resources.

I ate a Hot Pocket, Cheeseburger flavor. It was disgusting, but it stopped the growling. I thought to myself that no amount of chlorine tap water would be able to wash away the flavor of the meat pop tart. I needed something stronger. The red tin winked at me from the back of the cold compartment. I answered the come-hither stare. I held the can in my hands. “Hmm, NOS Energy Drink, that’ll get me home.” I declared aloud. I’ve had my foray with caffeine before, and figured I needed a little pick-me-up. I mean, I just worked a ten-hour shift lifting and sawing heavy material, and I was about to go to the gym and lift even heavier stuff, if anyone needed to drink an “energy drink”, it was me! I popped the tab and started downing the high-fructose corn syrup filled, Fruit Punch flavored beverage. It wasn’t bad. Sugary, delicious effervescence. However, NOS is like that quiet guy in school who seems so nice, then he goes on a killing spree and eats the victims.

Back to me driving real horrorshow. Armed with obscenities and a piss-dripping shriveled wang, I was begging the cops to show up with their patriotic seizure lights. I could outrun them now, on feet if necessary, I could wreck them with my indestructible car or dropkick them through their pussy ass windshields.

If this happened more often, I may actually watch
the South's most popular sport.

I tried to kick open the door to the gym, and then I realized I had to have my card to get in. That and it was “Pull”, not “Push”. If I flipped off the security camera and threw a brick through the glass door, would they let me come back? What if I swept up the glass myself?

Squats. Quad Extensions. Abductors, Adductors. Leg Press. Lay on the floor and tongue kiss the harpie bitch called death.

I felt like I was having a heart attack. I was so light headed; I thought my brain was a satellite orbiting my head. Did I already finish my work out? I didn’t even fucking remember how I got to the gym. I pushed myself up off the floor and tried to stand, but the leg workout had left my muscles burning and swollen. Wobbling around like a newborn antelope, I managed to make it out the door(that I didn’t smash, thank Ford), down the concrete stairs, and into my car.

All that lifting and my legs still didn't look like hers.

Sleep finally found me at 7:00am. When I woke, my heart was still palpitating and my head pained me much like a hangover. Upon regaining consciousness, I had to examine the NOS can further. I should have known what I was in for when it didn’t just read, ingredients, but “Power Ingredients”. The main contributing factors to my lunacy were Ginseng, Taurine, L-Carnitine, Caffeine and a ton of sugar. Combine that with my already existing heart murmur, and that I had abstained from Caffeine for a long while, NOS raped and pillaged my nervous system and was worse than any McCain smear campaign.

In conclusion, if you are a soy-ridden, pudgy grunt who sits at home and plays video games all day that is used to a constant diet of energy drinks and Taco Bell, then, by all means, drink NOS. The shit is liquid skittles. If you are already addicted to PCP or blow, go ahead and slam back a NOS, it may help you stay up an extra day; because we all know a whole extra day of giving fellatio to Republicans and Catholic Priests will help you support your habit. Normal men, normal women, if you are looking for a pick-me-up, do not drink NOS: Instead, get someone to slap you, flick you in the cods or twist your nipple, anything is better than putting that sordid soda into your body.