It’s 4 a.m., and I’m gacked to the teats on energy drinks. Four cans of Red Bull, four cans of Full Throttle, two cans of Rockstar, and a 10-ounce plastic cup full of some nameless yellow drool they dispense straight from the beverage gun over at the pub across the way. I’m bug-eyed, red-eyed, itchy, twitchy, anxious and sweaty and grinding my teeth, talking to myself and talking to the walls and talking to my dog. Which isn’t unusual—the talking to my dog part, that is. I do that all the time. Except ordinarily he just looks back at me, like he’s bored, or he needs a biscuit, or something. This time, he just looks too scared to answer.
Is that a bug crawling on the wall?
Maybe I’d have been better off with Neuro Fuel. What’s a Neuro Fuel, you ask? Well, really, you didn’t ask. I asked for you. Because I’m the one sitting here in a paranoid frenzy, trying to make a late-night finish on a story about Knoxville’s own contribution to the energy-drink market. And talking to myself, and to the dog, and to the walls. And now I’m talking to you, too. Wait, this isn’t making any damn sense.
Hmmmm. I wonder if this guy has been peeking at some of my draft posts. Still, it is an interesting concept: re-evaluate the energy drink concept and provide one that actually gives the consumer what they actually expect from the neo-magical 8.6 oz. can and remove all the negatives that they really don't want.
Check out Neuro Fuel for yourselves. The website is highly Flash-oriented, so you might want to be sure your script-blockers are bypassed for this one. And then hope for Internet-based distribution, so that one can answer the most important question when it comes to energy drinks:
Does it mix well with vodka?