I have to admit, the first time I tried Red Bull, I absolutely hated it. It was the beginning of a long bus ride from Boston, all the way down to Wilmington. I had been handed a free can of Red Bull by a Red Bull promo team out scouting the malleable youth of New England. I had fallen for their trick. Anything free must be good, right? Upon opening the can, I realized otherwise. The smell of Robitussin seeped out from the large aluminum capsule. Disturbed, I took a sip. Gross! I nearly ejected the liquid in my mouth onto the poor, unsuspecting bus passenger to my right. Etiquette in mind, I thought better of beginning a seven hour bus ride by puking on my seat buddy, so I swallowed. The first thought that came to my mind was “carbonated cough syrup.” Not knowing what to do with the rest of the beverage, I quickly downed it, wincing as the chemical concoction made its way down my throat. The bus driver looked back at me. “HaHA!” he exclaimed in a manner reminiscent of the wicked witch of the west. “You won’t be getting any sleep on the trip now!” I could swear he called me “my pretty,” but perhaps this was the taurine taking effect.

Five years passed before I drank another Red Bull. I moved around from energy drink to energy drink, being the trendy person I am. Sometimes I even drank *gasp* coffee. But to be honest, nothing I found during that five year period came close to inspiring in me the sheer horror that Red Bull had inspired. And after a while, I realized that it was the horror that had gripped me tightly and had kept me from falling asleep. Caffeine, taurine, creatine, pyridoxine HCl, none of these things could keep me alert. But the thought that I was slowly drowning in a pool of bubbly expectorant did the trick nicely. And so, as my work load steadily increased, I realized I had made a mistake in leaving the disgusting beverage that a few underpaid foot soldiers of the Red Bull marketing machine had pawned off on me half a decade before.

Today, a whole eight years after my first sip, I am a Red Bull drinker. But it doesn’t stop there. In a phase of health-conscious behavior a year or two ago, I decided to try sugar free Red Bull. I do not exaggerate when I assert that there has never been a concoction more foul, more odious, more fear inspiring than sugar free Red Bull. It is as if a thousand pixies descend upon your tongue and painlessly rip off your taste buds, replacing them instead with rot and liquid pharmaceuticals. For this reason, when I am driving late at night, or studying into the wee hours of the morning, sugar free Red Bull is my drink of choice.

Red Bull, like scotch and Kansas, is an acquired taste. I certainly do not expect you to all run out to your nearest convenience store and buy a 12 pack of Red Bull after reading this. But maybe some of you will give it another shot. It is not the type of drink you pick up and enjoy immediately. Rather, you develop a love-hate relationship with it. You try to get away, you run and cower, only to realize that it has followed you. You cannot escape it, and eventually you realize that, as with any effective drug, after a while, you need it. It gives you wings. They say so in the commercials. So here’s to you Red Bull. Without your mind-controlling hallucinogenic powers, who knows how many papers I would have turned in even later!

I am pleased to report that since that time, chicken and rice has received many letters asking similarly thought provoking questions. We at chicken and rice would love for you to share in our success, so here are just a few of them:

FREEMUSICzz%12_1 wrote:
DO YOU WANT FREE IPOD??? Now for no monkey new ipod cans be you’res! Music, movies, games, graphics, pictures, wheel, USB connectorw. Want free stuff?! IPODS FOR FREE! Electronics, APPLE<< zune, ipod FREE. ppp free IPOD.

Dear FREEMUSICzz%12_1,
Your offer is enticing. However, I don’t believe you will actually give me a free iPod. Your spelling and grammar lead me to believe that you are either almost illiterate, a computer, or a slave laborer in Laos with a fairly impressive command of the English language given your circumstances. As the only question in your rant is “DO YOU WANT FREE IPOD???” the best answer I can give you is: yes, although, again, I doubt you can deliver. Have a wonderful day, and please, feel free to write into chicken and rice again!

viagra_altrntv wrote:
EXTEND YOURSELF! Wnat better sex>?? risk free product give make you larger!!! MAKE her s2queal with DELIGHT! ~~ all natarul! no harmful cemicals. all try now!!! hurry before offer sEXPIRES! now!

Dear viagra_altrntv,
How did you know? This is amazing, it’s like you read my mind. I’ve always wanted a “natarul” solution with no “cemicals.” And she hasn’t “s2quealed” in forever. You must be a psychic. As sarcasm is difficult to decipher through text, I’ll make this blatantly clear: go delete yourself.

MarissaW wrote:
want the gnome went where processor how to never has dvd time. benzodiazapan gave all in the head super going at the store. how do for seven of times she for the good have an ugly time deck nose? now we hat speak numbing of even. twelve is hoping hyacinth to end phone of evil-doer. not fan screen has oscar into bed of sofa coffee tables accessories kitchen sauce. travel chrysanthemum tulip on wherever ten nevertheless cable shelves in hair product free jvc water bottle highlight essence mug oak screaming surrender dorothy adapter shadows offended. win.

Dear MarissaW,
Thank you for your insightful letter. I think the best answer I can give you is 52. If you require further clarification, please don’t hesitate to ask.

Folks, I am here to tell you that this phrase is not a hip trend or a mere play thing for our amusement. Other such trends have perished at the hands of time: Airwalk, polygamy, L.A. Gear, flapper dresses, Huffy, white bell bottoms with a glowing afro and a huge piece of gold hanging around your neck, to name just a few. But the phrase “Don’t drink the water” will not fade. It will remain a part of our lives colloquially and substantively simply because it is true. It is not a mere ploy, a joke, a cliche, or a subtle advertising campaign for Evian. When you hear “Don’t drink the water,” then don’t drink the water.

Perhaps it was the ice, or perhaps it was some bit of water in the food, freshly sprayed vegetables even. Maybe it was the mouthful of water I accidentally swallowed while swimming in the Mexican caves of Cuzama. All I can tell you is that the Gulf of Mexico never looked so nauseating from 40,000 feet as it did last week.

So please, heed my warning and all future warnings, embedded in song lyrics or advertisements though they may be. If someone tells you not to drink the water, don’t assume they are attempting to make a funny. Take their warning at face value. A little dehydration in the beginning can save you a week of life-threatening dehydration later.

You amass the ingredients and paraphernalia one piece at a time, with a spark of excitement every time you take another step towards your culinary mecca. You read each step of the process over and over, memorizing the time-critical passages, researching and drawing every shade of meaning from obscure foreign verbs or familiar words with new and specific meanings. Finally, with a free afternoon and a shiver of nervous anticipation, you ritually assemble your mise en place and you begin.

And maybe, in the cases that are simultaneously the best and the worst, you get close to something beautiful. Just for a brief, precious moment — the delicate balance of flavors, sweet against salty, yin and yang — the tantalizing nascent aroma — the shining omen of perfect color and texture — eureka, eureka! — —

– And then, flush with exhilaration, caught up in the moment, then, you’ve waited just barely too long, and suddenly you find yourself left watching it all go up in smoke. (Often quite literally.)

Oh, chocolate-topped almond toffee. We could have been great together — my only regret is not taking you off the stove fifteen seconds earlier.

But if you ever find yourself in office and Patrick Fitzgerald is knocking on your door telling you you’re under arrest, come back to chicken and rice and watch this short video, so that you can see exactly what you’ve become.

Merry Christmas.

I know i put it somewhere…

Lets just assume for a minute that you’re just an average Joe. You go to work every day from 9 to 5. You respond to emails, do some paperwork, and watch the flow of hundreds of millions of dollars worth of stock trades. Well, some day, you may be presented with a question – one that seems fairly basic, but one you should still take seriously. The question: Do you want to lose seven-billion dollars? We at chicken and rice do hereby strongly and emphatically declare that if presented with this question, you should say ‘no’ without thought.

“But chicken and rice,” some may argue, “shouldn’t we be trying new things in life?”

Well, good viewers, losing seven-billion dollars is kind of like trying herpes. It really does stay with you longer than you would like.

“But chicken and rice, all of the other cool investment banks are losing billions of dollars.”

Well, if your friends want you to lose billions of dollars, they’re not really your friends. Besides, you’re smarter than the French, right?

“Well…I guess, but it’s only seven-billion dollars.”

Yeah, but seven-billion here, and seven-billion there, and pretty soon they’ll start rejecting your corporate expense card at the Four Seasons. And you don’t want that, do you?

“Well…no.”

That’s a good lad. Now go play in the yard. And remember, the more seven-billion dollars you lose, the more seven-billion dollars the communists win.