I’m not saying that mixing SoCo with Tabasco is a bad idea. On the contrary, the pairing has a certain appeal. Particularly if you happen to be, say, in a fraternity at Mississippi State. What I am saying is that the existence of a product such as this suggests that there are an alarming number of truly lazy sods in this world.
It’s not like hot sauce is prohibitively expensive or hard to find, right? And I think most reasonable people would agree that spicing up the hooch yourself with a dash or two straight from the bottle beats a prefab blend whipped up in some laboratory somewhere.
So that pretty much leaves convenience as Fiery Pepper’s raison d'etre. It’s a product targeted at the hordes of feeble mouth-breathers who are apparently so indolent that the amount of exertion required to shake a goddamn bottle of Tabasco is too much to handle.
Make no mistake, these booze-swilling sloths really are out there. In force. How else to explain the enormous popularity of Bud Light Lime, ready-made rum & coke, and the Coors Light “Cold Activated” can, which turns blue to let you know when you’ve officially stopped trying.
A core principle of salesmanship is convincing people they need something that they, in fact, do not. The more shit we covet, the more cash the shit-shillers pocket. So you can bet your Snuggies and Clappers and Dust Mop Slippers that our opportunistic corporate enablers will continue to do everything in their power to facilitate our languorous slouch toward inertness.
We’re living in an age defined by the marketing slogan “there’s an app for that,” and it stands to reason that unless we resist the temptation to allow computers and gadgets and booze companies to do everything for us, we’re destined to become the fat, lazy and stupid leisure addicts from the space station in WALL-E.
Well, I say enough is enough. Thanks but no thanks, Anheuser-Busch. We can squeeze our own damn limes into our beer. And trust our senses to determine when the optimum drinking temperature has been reached. And while we’re at it, anyone over the age of 21 who hasn’t mastered the art of pouring shouldn’t be drinking alcohol in the first place -- so take those vortex bottles and stick ‘em up your ass!
As for Southern Comfort, well interestingly enough, writing this post had helped me discover a newfound appreciation for a spirit that, frankly, I’ve neglected for many years. Not the Fiery Pepper, mind you. I’m talking about original SoCo served the way the God intended – in an Alabama Slammer… it’s a drink that gives you all the drunk, with only half the morning-after fire ass.