I Never Trusted V8 Anyway

Hate the stuff. Hate. I'm using the word hate here.

Once, my dad made me drink a whole can of it before soccer practice. I still remember the nails-on-a-chalkboard, William Wallace-like-disembowelment chills that accompanied that can.

But what my friend Andrew had to go through is even more repulsive. Read about it here: V8 Incident.

Do not drink V8 people!