Where else but the dogmatic structure of a university can adults pay to be legally forced to churn out work like underage sweatshop employees, spending countless sleepless nights toiling on assignments that lead to...more school and more work?
Seriously, I'm about to send a press release to the World Human Organization and Amnesty International. I'm more marveling than complaining. I
like working on papers. I strive to enter a career that revolves around research and arguments. But I can't help but be impressed at the marketing behind higher education.
As you can see by my incoherent and loosely structured rant, I'm knee-deep in the sludge of college finals. I have a gorgeously written paper due tomorrow, two final exams to study for, and a film about bugs to watch and take notes on. Needless to say, I'm locked in my dormitory awaiting execution by homework. It's going to be a long two days.
I stocked up on energy drinks and protein shakes to keep me alert and unencumbered by things like "food" and "bathroom breaks."
Seriously, this drink looks like something you'd hand out to African refugee children suffering from ascites. Or college students. Same difference. I can't tell if the label on this is a misguided jab at hipness from the 60-year old WordArt certified graphic designers on this account or just incredibly outdated and cheap. My guess is the latter.
This is the only nutrition or protein drink I've seen that can be bought for $2. And your soul.
With
360 calories and your apparently daily recommended value of sugar, 49 grams, not a whole lot about this is screaming "nutritious." The store only carried chocolate, but I must say I feel a little jilted that my area wasn't privy to the more eclectic flavors this comes in like banana, coconut, and dulce de leche. And this barely passes as chocolate. Hell, canola oil surpasses cocoa in the ingredient list.
Nestle, do you mean to tell me that one of the primary energy supplements in this is canola oil? Holy hell, this is worse than I anticipated. The can tells me to "just chill the can + shake vigorously to release the inner power."
I'm guessing that's a roundabout way of saying there's an asston of sediment at the bottom or a subliminal advertisement for masturbating.
This tastes like
a distillation of chocolate Necco wafers and Flintstones vitamins, down to the chalkiness and artificially fruity flavor. It has
a powdery, fake smell reminiscent of the marshmallows in Lucky Charms and flat, dull color. While there but for the grace of Nestle goes the texture, surprisingly fluid and smooth, there is absolutely nothing else redeeming about this drink. It has the disturbing heft and substance of baby formula and an unrelenting sugary aftertaste.
In pinning down this flavor I think it's best described as "protein ass." Please, please, please, if you're between this and another protein drink for twice the price, splurge. Nestle, merely putting the
word "nutrition" on the bottle five times does not make this nutritious.
As you can see by my incoherent and loosely structured rant, I'm knee-deep in the sludge of college finals. I have a gorgeously written paper due tomorrow, two final exams to study for, and a film about bugs to watch and take notes on. Needless to say, I'm locked in my dormitory awaiting execution by homework. It's going to be a long two days. I stocked up on energy drinks and protein shakes to keep me alert and unencumbered by things like "food" and "bathroom breaks."
Seriously, this drink looks like something you'd hand out to African refugee children suffering from ascites. Or college students. Same difference. I can't tell if the label on this is a misguided jab at hipness from the 60-year old WordArt certified graphic designers on this account or just incredibly outdated and cheap. My guess is the latter. This is the only nutrition or protein drink I've seen that can be bought for $2. And your soul.
With 360 calories and your apparently daily recommended value of sugar, 49 grams, not a whole lot about this is screaming "nutritious." The store only carried chocolate, but I must say I feel a little jilted that my area wasn't privy to the more eclectic flavors this comes in like banana, coconut, and dulce de leche. And this barely passes as chocolate. Hell, canola oil surpasses cocoa in the ingredient list. Nestle, do you mean to tell me that one of the primary energy supplements in this is canola oil? Holy hell, this is worse than I anticipated. The can tells me to "just chill the can + shake vigorously to release the inner power." I'm guessing that's a roundabout way of saying there's an asston of sediment at the bottom or a subliminal advertisement for masturbating.
This tastes like a distillation of chocolate Necco wafers and Flintstones vitamins, down to the chalkiness and artificially fruity flavor. It has a powdery, fake smell reminiscent of the marshmallows in Lucky Charms and flat, dull color. While there but for the grace of Nestle goes the texture, surprisingly fluid and smooth, there is absolutely nothing else redeeming about this drink. It has the disturbing heft and substance of baby formula and an unrelenting sugary aftertaste. In pinning down this flavor I think it's best described as "protein ass." Please, please, please, if you're between this and another protein drink for twice the price, splurge. Nestle, merely putting the word "nutrition" on the bottle five times does not make this nutritious.
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