Capri Sun Challenge

Drink up.

Alright time to do a non-soccer related post. The Pursuit of Victory people want me to write some preview of the U.S.A. vs. Panama soccer game tomorrow, but I feel I'm far too uninformed to write a through piece. Really. I mean, if I don't it's not the end of the World since I volunteer my mediocre scribing for their young soccer blog/news site.

See what I mean by mediocre? I'm already in the second paragraph of the blog, and I've yet to present/introduce the primarily topic and delve into the the background analysis of how the topic came to be in my life, or the impact it is having on this very moment. Then again, blogging is the art of writing how you would speak, and I'm notorious for saying so much without saying anything at all. Being concise is something I have to work on.


To veer back to the point of this stupid blog post, I'm going to talk to you all about the "Capri Sun Challenge". I learned about it from Laura at Prom...which was, God, it was about a week and a half ago. Feels like months ago. We were driving to Michael's for prom dinner, pics, and all that exciting preliminary shit when she randomly brought it up to me. Some dive competition and time was needed to be wasted. That's her story. I guess you can say this is mine.

The challenge is drinking as many Capri Sun's as possible in the span of 15 minutes without vomiting it back up like a volcano. Okay, that's nasty; but appropriate given the circumstances or something related. Over the past few days, I found the whole thing intriguing and tempting. I know, myself, doing shenanigans like that is out of bounds. Especially due to my apparent straight edge attitude that everyone but myself collectively agrees upon.

To prove naysayers wrong, I clearly need to do a Capri Sun Challenge to shot show (Freudian slip, obviously) I'm not so uptight dude. And clearly this is the way to be accepted by society. Chugging a ton of juice pouches at work in my mini golf shack where no one can see me. Really, on weekdays no one mini golfs. Or goes mini golfing. Whichever is more appropriate.

I don't get why Laura has encouraged me to do it. Maybe it's some evil internal laughter or some shit related to this juice binge extravaganza.

I'll let you know how my stomach goes when I do it. You're all thirsty for the news. EH?!