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#Ranch Water hard seltzer
auraeseer · 2 years
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. . . important commodity.
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millerflintstone · 11 months
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Has anyone tried that Ranch Water hard seltzer? Any good? I was very unimpressed with White Claw.
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tsunflowers · 2 months
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ranch water???
apparently it's a cocktail with tequila, lime, and seltzer water. I guess the name is a joke like "after a hard day on the ranch you'll be drinking this like it's water" ??
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bugginoutofthisworld · 9 months
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Pandora's Shop (or, Bodega Triangle)
I’d decided to shed my skin, which had been flaking off for years, in a place of nightmarish liminality. Where the only variables are expiration dates. The neon mermaid bade her tail and winked at me as I shook dandruff from my scalp in a snow of powdery crust. A chill overcame me and my dry skin cracked further, an artificial breeze constricting my pores. The palms of my hands clammed, something that hadn’t happened since a childhood incident with a bullfrog who’s piss gave me warts between my fingers so big they couldn’t close. Leaving the quarry that day was a kid who didn't shake hands and his butterfly net of sun-dried tadpoles.
Chipped paint on vestibule walls. Nothing is less appealing to a customer than last year's eggshell under this year's ivory. How hard is it to slap a layer of varnish to wood panels so dry even the termites have gone? It would give the sticky handles of carts and baskets some justification; oh their money is being used on aesthetics rather than sanitation, can’t have both that’s for sure. The soggy coupon ad in the basket I grabbed plopped onto the trashcans rim and slid to the bottom of the bag with a squelch. The radio above reminded me, in the words of Sheryl Crow, “all I wanna do is have some fun.”
Shattered stained glass like that which belongs in a cathedral cracked under my fingers and scathed the wax floor that led to aisles of superfluous inebriation. I’d have stayed home if not for my inability to function without room-temperature vodka in my stomach. And knowing myself as well as I do, the half-fifth I had at home was full of water. Drunk-me had stopped putting my vodka in the freezer because most mornings I’d shakily wake up to it frozen. My ironic humor led my eyes to watch the shelves for new drinks I’d never try. Whenever my work friends and I go out to the bar they order seltzers, something their wives said would quell a beer gut. Frankly, carbonation and vodka sound as appealing as children and pedophiles, but as one might justify his pedaracy, what was the harm in looking?
NEW! Newman’s Own Hard Seltzers: Have you ever been drinking and thought to yourself, ‘I could really go for a salad right now?’ Look no further than the liquor department at your local grocery store for such a convenience. Newman’s Own is elated to bring to you the latest in refreshing alcoholic beverages with its own line of hard seltzers. Try our raspberry vinaigrette flavor for a tangy and crisp addition to your carbonated vodka. If you’re in the mood for something classic our ranch flavor is sure to satisfy. You bring the lettuce, and we’ll bring the dressing. Please drink (Ir)responsibly. 
With a handle of the most acetone-like vodka tucked under my arm, sloshing a foamless tide, I was ready to pull a swig. To pickle your insides was the most common cause of death in my genealogy. Most of us died pre-embalmed. I told my mom before she passed that I wouldn’t turn out like her brother, my uncle. Who bisected himself and his car on a telephone pole while on the run from a townsworth of sheriffs who were called to chase the violent bank robber that smelled like cinnamon whiskey and could hardly stand, let alone point a gun.
She croaked, and out came the bullfrog; a warty beast of sebaceum so viscous that most flies were caught on him rather than by him. And fed from a stagnant pond with mosquitoes so bountiful they outnumbered the people that lived in the apartments below. Nests of eggs were laid at the pond's edge and under a mountain of muck at the bottom the bullfrog lay masked, waiting for the buffet of hatchlings. From that hill rooftops seemed like asphalt ground and trees like bushes that lined an infinitely expansive blue front door. What I’d always wanted was to knock and ask for directions home.
The cashier behind the till stared at a vacant wonderland ahead of him. If there was a dollar in that till for every zit on his face he’d have enough to break a day’s worth of twenty’s. A haunting atmosphere became of him and the white noise emanating from the humming soda coolers. Fluorescent light is a killer of organic energies, shattering the bone under the skin. Nothing about the cashier felt less than uncanny; human cartilage.
Breakfast was a meal I routinely skipped. In favor of a mug of black coffee and a glass with a raw egg, hot sauce, vinegar, salt, and pepper in it which, along with a shot of vodka, was the only cure for the gale winds and dead fire I awoke to every morning. With more skin left to peel than time I had I wandered with the hurriedness of a molasses snail. Cereal changed little after all these years. A shiny new logo, a thinner mascot, and forgoing box tops for education. 
Post Honey Bunches of Toes: For the kid who hates corn chips but loves the smell. Never has breakfast been gamier. Enjoy our new sock fuzz edition! Watch the strands of fuzz swirl in your milk and forget the days of yawns at the breakfast table. Once you’ve finished, fish around the bowl for loose toenails and satisfy that childlike oral fixation! For every ten boxes sold we’ll donate toes to a child in need. Coming soon: new blister flavor!
Even before the hangovers, waking up in discomfort was as regular as morning dew or an oily nose. To remember falling asleep was to beg for memories that weren’t there. After a while of asking I’d just accepted that it was impossible for me not to fall asleep on the couch and have my step-dad carry me to bed. Food was a distant thought in my waking mind. Water was in orbit. But to rectify the pain was as immediate a concern as an asteroid barreling through the atmosphere. My step-dad was the kind of tough that you’d only come to realize was a farce after he succumbed to the hurt. Enough times of seeking help and only getting a fistful of painkillers was a lesson in complacency.
My childhood woes often lost themselves amongst my boundless imagination. Playing with action figures, who could be heroes, villains, cops, or teachers all in one day was my favorite pastime. Hesitancy overcame me in the toy aisle of the store. Although their heroes were more plastic than mine, and although their eyes drooped the way cheap paint runs, I couldn’t fight the melancholic nostalgia that made me bite through my gummy lips. I might not see a hero in Strongarm Mike or Daredevil Nick. But I do see the opportunity to create for them a life beyond their toxic Chinese parts. 
Two princesses, in royal blue and purple gowns dance a waltz in a glittering ballroom. From them emanates a hue of sparkling magic which guides their dancing feet and tosses the tulle of their gowns in a dramatic flair. Under the glass floor two heroes’ barrel through the raining debris of a falling skyscraper, each with an unconscious construction worker thrown over their shoulder. A figure-eight of the princesses' wands invites the men into their realm and sets the workers in pumpkin-shaped ambulances. Mike grabs the hand of the blue princess who, with a wave of her wand, clothes him in a teal suit. Nicks’ purple princess bestows him a lavender colored ensemble. The pairs break off and sway with each other to the sound of fluttering piano keys. 
New! Hasbro Lolita Doll. Finally! A doll made to be played with by the veiny hands of old predators- oh, excuse me, Humberts. Nothing strange to see here! You can now own your own nymphette doll. Lolita comes equipped with a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses and pre-broken hymen! Who said toys are just for kids? Now the kid is the toy. Feel free to take Lolita across state lines and into innumerable hotel rooms where she’s just begging to be statutorily raped! Watch your wallet! As our new Lolita doll is built with a special A.I. that will find your cash and build herself a nest egg in hopes to run away. Coming soon: Brolita, because women can be predators too!
A tactic in self-preservation I’d learned early on was to piss in a drawer at the corner of my room. There was a book I’d read in second grade that taught me about pheromones, about the way animals secrete fluids that can invite or deter others. Like a sort of implicit instruction that finds itself teaching from the subconscious. The bullfrog hated the drawer. My experiment started once my fear of crossing his path overwhelmed my need to piss. On the precipice of an infected tract, I awoke one night to a strained throb in my bladder. While half-asleep I wandered over to the drawer which presented itself to me as a porcelain latrine. In a frothy gush like that of a breaking dam I flooded the drawer. And went back to bed. The next morning the bullfrog wasn’t standing over me nor did I wake up with the pains. After a few more weeks of using the drawer, I’d figured out the correlation. 
I ran my nose up and down the cleaning aisle in marathon laps. Like some scentless apprentice I could distinguish clean linen from lavender serenity from April fresh from blossom and breeze from Hawaiian aloha from fresh lemon. They worked in harmony to create an environment that left my skin itchy and my lungs ablaze as the chemical compounds worked their way into my already clogged bronchi. And remembering the time I poured bleach into my piss drawer and created a gas so noxiously overwhelming it did the bullfrogs job for him I hesitated as I made my way. 
Cotton fabric is a particularly absorbent material. My clothes always had a musk of cigarettes and nap sweat from my jackets to my boxers and socks. Yet, I was olfactorily unrecognizable. The ecosystem of sanitizing elements that watched me like birds on telephone wire, without trying, hid me in a drape of anonymous scent. Into the mirage of frost, I disappeared. And cried. Bees attacking my eyes with their sharp thoraxes. Gushes of salivation clawed my sunny eyes and bled onto my face. Into the freshly peeled skin of my cheeks, dry and raw, ran a tidal of abstract, toxic compounds. Underfoot the ground disappeared and became a crunchy and brittle surface. My blue toes, numb to thought, squelched in the swamp at the soles of my shoes. Fire engulfed what nerves were left to sing a song of damnation. Shaking so violently the world crumbled from its trembling axis. Fell into a clear void of thick fog which hissed from every point possible in the third dimension. 
Try the holiday favorite, available year-round! Gregg Nog: Nog gathered from the spunky nuts of a bachelor named Gregg. We’ve got him hooked up to a machine out back that milks the boy dry day in and day out, so you don’t have to worry about harmful additives or chemicals. Notice the faint yellow hue and taste the eggy goodness. Kids love Gregg Nog! Don’t wait till Christmas for that other, less impregnating beverage; and switch to a healthy, proteinated alternative, it’s Gregg Nog! The only beverage that you can feel moving on your tongue!
The price of milk is only getting more expensive- I mean what is the deal with inflation? Whoever is behind this must be the same ladies working on my husband's tits. And it’s not just because he has a baby on the way- no ma’am. It’s because he has two babies on the way. If you’d have told me that my husband getting pregnant would make him horny and well-endowed I’d have stopped masturbating in the bathroom after he fell asleep years ago. No, no- I’m serious. Nothing makes me feel uglier than looking up into the mirror stained with his popped pimples and toothpaste spit and seeing the face of the gal who just came into her toilet to Three Latina Death Row Inmates Play Strip Euchre. Anyone seen any good movies lately? No? Sorry I forgot it was the great depression. Let me roll my eyes and exhale from my nose dramatically real quick. Anyway, I just got back from seeing that Everything Everywhere All At Once flick- It’s the movie about a dimension hopping mom and her evil lesbian daughter. Whatever, I got to thinking… I wonder if there's a universe out there where my husband is not such a bitch? Look I’m glad we got men's rights, but what about men's wrongs?
I tried to drown myself in that drawer full of piss. By the time the bullfrog was gone to another pond, it had become a murky, autumn colored liquid that seeped through the thin tile at the bottom and dripped onto my floor. But once I’d started pissing in there I couldn’t stop. Everything about that house scared me even after I knew, consciously, it was safe. But some tickle in the back of my mind kept saying it would be back. But I’d seen him hop over to the pigs and play in the mud; last I heard he was living with some birds in a steely nest. And the day came when I learned that it doesn't take much for a lilypad to sink. 
The world is ending inside my head.
Find that fuse, which grows from the earth
like a juvenile sprout.
If we were in a hotel I’d say avoid the stairs
and the active shooter. 
And when my dog was a duck 
I still loved him.
While ants' lap spilled vodka from the couch.
This is like the third kid I’ve killed this way.
If you walk a little farther
you’ll save some money
and make sense of roadkill
and their absent eyes.
and I’ll never be on stage again.
Yet the world persists.
Horridly the presence of asparagus became on me. I’d never wanted again to smell piss so pungent. Artichoke and spinach danced a dip as one.  The apples removed layers of caramel seductively and stroked their wooden sticks. Gleeks, sung a mashup of songs that swung and just barely missed a spot in the top 40s. Harmonizing ambiently was the chime of bell peppers. It was midnight all the time. Spicy germ chimed against the membranous wall and echoed toward the tall ceilings and their waning light. Words from languages foreign to human ears, ginger root communicated with a bug-like discourse. Belly laughing pumpkins. An assault of melon seeds against any thick, echoing surface: stone for a bass-heavy thud, metal made a rattling clang, and wood made for a thin, clapping instrumentation. But in a band all parts are made equal; it's the sheet music which permits bias.
Those tomatoes in the corner creating martyrs of themselves, by Florence, they call to me. I’m at the front of the classroom being pelted by spitballs from bullies who might just yank my underwear by my autographed waistband. A match held just under my nose takes hair in sulfur wisps; melting that thin septum of mine to a drippy goop. I believe in protein powder for its glamorous-physique- inducing milk chocolate goodness. Granola makes for too harsh a meal; no yogurt can dull the stalactite-sharpness of any grain. I believe they are coming and I shall light another match and put my nose back in place. Spuds on the floor hear me when I say to you, “por que no los dos?”
Old! From Eddie Bauer, The Kings Robe: hate the burden of fashion and the threat of a public indecency charge? Try The Kings Robe! A multifunctional statement piece that says, “yes I have money, and no my penis is not that large in the cold.” With The Kings Robe by Eddie Bauer, you too can be your own hubris. Gone are the days of pseudo-intellectualism. What lay before you on a pea-dented mattress is the absolute humiliation of the working class knowing you’re no better than them.
Forsaken by my skin and now as fresh as a newborn chick. Where my feathers are dangling stems of chewy nerves and I am dressed in a clear-orange sauce of fluid. The shelves no longer behold themselves to merchandise and the only light is that which comes in from the moon and street lamps outside.
My cashier exploded, like pressurizing a can of tomato paste there are streams of meat that cover every-inch of in a six-foot-radius from where he stood. I suspect the bills in the till are still fresh and crisp, however. All I can audibly distinguish is the whir of machinery that keeps fridges cool and freezers frigid.
“Underdog, underdog.” Croaks an appalling voice. “Speed of lightning, roar of thunder,” it continues, “stare directly into the sun and see how clean that makes your clothes. Stains do not a good boy make. Your mother would be so disappointed in you. Those scuffs on your white shoes would send her reeling. You know I could clean them up for you. Go ahead and take off your shoes.”
I step from my formerly white tennis shoes, the color of their underside. 
“That’s a good boy.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank you, what?”
“Thank you, sir.”
“That's better. Now let's get that shirt and those shorts into the washer, I thought you hated playing in the mud? That was the first thing your mom told me about you, and something I never forgot, ‘this boy of mine hates to get dirty,’ she said.” 
I stepped into near-nakedness by taking off my shirt and shorts, left in my underwear, socks, and forsaken knees. 
“There we go. Oh you must be so cold. Why don’t you go upstairs and take a warm shower? Wash some of that dirt off your face and get yourself clean before dinner.”
“Yes, sir.” 
I abandoned my briefs and cotton socks on the bathroom floor where they became fabric mush; abstracted by sprinkles from the cool shower water. Shampoo de-greased my hair, conditioner made it soft, no soap was strong enough to rinse from me the oil of hands that caressed my up and down and smoothed my skin from the roughness made by the peach fuzz of a fawnlette. And I’d always been grateful that in a shower there were bountiful excuses to dismiss what looked like crying. And what may be blood washed down the drain never to be seen again. And what was pain could be dulled by making the water hotter.
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hellotherelovelyyy · 2 years
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I’m sorry but every time I see an ad for “Ranch Water”, my brain immediately thinks it’s like… hidden valley ranch flavored seltzer. Not hard seltzer. Every time. Even though I know it’s just hard seltzer and isn’t zesty, tangy, and savory. 🙈
I’ve never had it and probably never will. Probably because my mind thinks it’s going to taste like cool ranch Doritos.
EDIT: UM maybe it’s because there’s a “spicy” flavor. Like, sriracha ranch?
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crybaby98anna · 3 months
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Snacks I've been meaning to try
Satisfy your sweet tooth 1. 1⁄2 medium apple, baked, topped with 1 Tbsp lowfat yogurt sprinkled with cinnamon (45 calories) 2. 1⁄2 small banana, frozen (45 calories) 3. 4 oz unsweetened applesauce sprinkled with cinnamon (49 calories) 4. 1 miniature box of raisins (45 calories) 5. 2 sugar-free ice pops (30 calories) 6. 1 sugar-free fudge ice pop (35 calories) 7. 12 cherries (48 calories) 8. 1 individual serving sugar-free gelatin with 3 Tbsp light whipped topping (40 calories) 9. 1⁄2 cup strawberries with 21⁄2 Tbsp nonfat yogurt (47 calories) 10. 14 seedless red grapes, frozen (48 calories)   Indulge a salt craving 11. 11⁄2 cups salted air-popped popcorn (46 calories) 12. 1⁄4 cup shelled edamame with sea salt (37 calories) 13. 8 oz miso soup (36 calories) 14. 1 pretzel rod (37 calories) 15. 1⁄4 small bag of Glenny's lightly salted soy crisps (35 calories) 16. 1 medium sliced cucumber mixed with 1⁄4 cup sliced onion, 1⁄2 cup chopped celery, 4 Tbsp vinegar and salt to taste (45 calories) 17. 6 oz eight-vegetable juice (39 calories) 18. 1 kosher dill pickle (10 calories)   Crunch and munch 19. 1⁄2 cup jicama with 4 oz salsa (49.5 calories) 20. 11⁄2 cups sugar snap peas (40 calories) 21. Small celery stalk smeared with 1⁄2 Tbsp natural peanut butter (49 calories) 22. 1⁄2 small apple with 1 tsp soy butter (46 calories) 23. 1 brown rice cake with 1 Tbsp sugar-free jam (44 calories)   Smooth and creamy 24. 1 Laughing Cow Light Garlic & Herb wedge spread on cucumber slices (35 calories) 25. 1 tsp almond butter (34 calories) 26. 1⁄2 cup fat-free Greek yogurt with 1 tsp sugar-free strawberry jam (43 calories) 27. 1 oz avocado (about 1⁄8 of an avocado) squirted with lime (45 calories) 28. 8 grape tomatoes dipped in 1 Tbsp light cream cheese (46 calories)   Cheesy whizzes 29. 6 pieces of endive filled with 1⁄2 oz reduced-fat feta cheese (49 calories) 30. 1 slice fat-free American cheese (30 calories) 31. 1 large tomato, sliced, topped with 1 Tbsp Parmesan, broiled (44 calories) 32. 1 oz fat-free cottage cheese on 1 slice caraway Finn Crisp Crispbread (38 calories) 33. 1 oz fat-free mozzarella dipped in 1 tsp marinara sauce (46 calories)   Power up on protein 34. Turkey rollups: 2 slices white meat turkey rolled in 2 lettuce leaves (46 calories) 35. 1 oz smoked salmon (about 1 slice) on 2 Wheat Thins crackers (Multi-Grain) (48 calories) 36. 1 tofu dog with 1 Tbsp sauerkraut (48 calories) 37. 1⁄2 cup plain fat-free yogurt sprinkled with 1 tsp sunflower seeds (49.6 calories) 38. 1.3 oz water-packed tuna with 1 tsp Dijon mustard (48 calories) 39. 2 large hard-cooked egg whites with 1 cup sliced cucumber (48 calories) 40. 1 slice Wasa Fibre Crispbread with 2 tsp hummus (45 calories) 41. 1 medium water-packed sardine with slice of red onion (35 calories)   Solid standbys 42. 1⁄2 cup melon with 2 Tbsp 1% cottage cheese (47 calories) 43. 1⁄2 small grapefruit (32 calories) 44. 1⁄3 cup blueberries with 1 Tbsp light sour cream (47 calories) 45. 1⁄2 cup carrots with 1 Tbsp light ranch dressing (45 calories)   Thirst quenchers 46. 1⁄2 cup nonfat milk with 1 Tbsp Walden Farms calorie-free chocolate syrup (40 calories) 47. 1 packet of sugar-free hot chocolate made with 1⁄4 cup skim milk and 3⁄4 cup hot water (47 calories) 48. 3⁄4 cup almond milk (45 calories) 49. 3⁄4 cup seltzer with 1⁄4 cup cranberry juice and a lime wedge (33 calories) 50. Homemade iced green tea (with artificial sweetener if desired) (0 calories)
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foododdity · 8 months
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merlastagaxe · 8 months
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reshuffleadventures · 2 years
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5/19/22 - Huntress with Sondra and Indi
I woke up, loaded some canyoneering ropes and gear into my car, and drove into Zion, to the South Campground where Sondra and Indi were camping in their rental van. They gave me a little tour of their van, and then we loaded up my car and headed out. I drove us through the park, through the tunnel to the East side, and out the East entrance to Diana’s Throne. 
We packed our backpacks with ropes, harnesses, and helmets, and we started hiking. The day went great! They told me that they’re trying to have a baby! They’ve been trying for a couple months now, and they’re having some trouble with the insurance stuff (this world is still very heteronormative). We talked about my breakup with Sam. We talked about Lisa and her new backpacking guiding job with REI in Yellowstone. Sondra and Indi both had a BLAST going through the Huntress. I’m so glad I was able to take them down a canyon and show them a good time. 
After we finished the canyon, we hiked up that terrible, sandy hill back to the car. I built it up throughout the day to be terrible, and when we got back to the car, Sondra and Indi were both surprised at how not-terrible it was. I’d built it up enough that they weren’t miserable, not even a little bit, because they’d mentally prepared for a much more miserable level of misery. We got back to the car, packed up our gear, and drove back to the South Campground in Zion. We hung out for a while at their campsite; they offered me a Ranch Water (a 4% hard seltzer). We drank together and relaxed at their campsite for an hour or so, until we decided to grab some dinner. They took me out to Oscar’s, where I got a giant burrito. We chatted and laughed over dinner, and I took half of my burrito home for leftovers. After dinner, I dropped them off at their campsite and headed home. 
Mollie and Sophie got home not too long after me, and we hung out the three of us for a little bit. Sam called and we chatted for a long time. While I was on the phone with Sam, she invited me to come out to Leavenworth at the end of June to do some rafting and hang out with the Orion crowd. I bought flights to Seattle for June 22 thru 28. Hopefully I can take those days off of work...
I’m grateful that Sondra and Indi wanted to spend some time with me. I’m grateful to them for validating my feelings when I was talking to them about the breakup with Sam. I’m grateful for their trust when they told me about their trying to have a baby. I’m grateful for Sophie and Mollie, who are great friends and roommates. I’m grateful to spend time at home with them; I’m grateful for the family we have here.
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boozedancing · 2 years
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Deep Ellum Brewing Ellum Ranch Patio Water Review
We're headed back to #Dallas, TX for a taste of #EllumRanch #PatioWater from @deepellumbrewco. To find out what we thought of this crisp and clean sounding #HardSeltzer, click the following link.
We’ve tried several tasty beers from Deep Ellum Brewing Co. of Dallas, Texas, so whenever one of their press releases lands in our inbox, we’re quick on the email reply draw and always ask for samples. The latest press release that found its way to our inbox was for a Hard Seltzer that Deep Ellum calls Ellum Ranch Patio Water. Here��s what they have to say about it… Escape the hustle & break from…
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auraeseer · 2 years
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Do the O again . . .
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moonchild-namgi · 2 years
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I was trying to find the Mt. Dew hard seltzer stuff because I’m just really curious, but instead I found “Ranch Water” which makes me have so many questions. Either way I got my alcoholic mt. dew and it’s actually pretty good.
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bourbon-banter · 3 years
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The Ranch Water Cocktail: The Original Hard Seltzer
The Ranch Water Cocktail: The Original Hard Seltzer
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goodspiritsnewsat · 2 years
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GSN Brews News: January 11th 2022 Edition
Topo Chico Hard Seltzer is debuting a Ranch Water line extension. Inspired by the Texas cocktail, the lime-based addition to the Topo Chico lineup comes in dedicated 12-packs of 12-ounce slim cans. Available now in 12 states across the South and West including Texas, Arizona, California, and Georgia, it’s at 4.7% abv. The launch coincides with the nationwide expansion of the Topo Chico variety…
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enewsedition · 4 years
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She Left an Ad Agency to Launch a Hard Seltzer With a West Texas Tang
She Left an Ad Agency to Launch a Hard Seltzer With a West Texas Tang
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Tequila. Fresh lime juice. A splash of soda water. The inspiration for Katie Beal Brown’s career change was simple, but the journey had more of a twist. Ms. Brown—paying homage to ranch water, a classic cocktail from her home state—devised a bottled hard seltzer version that became a hit.
Before starting her own company, Ms. Brown had put in the work—late nights and ramen meals out of…
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runawayface · 3 years
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Ficlet - Lunchtime (Shane)
For a prompt "write a story with only one character". Not sure what has me in the Shane mood this week but this idea came to me and I wanted to get it down. Just a little something detailing the differences between Shane's employment at Joja versus his employment as a farmhand at Runaway Farm. Enjoy!
~*~
12:00. Lunchtime. Egg salad sandwich. Again. It was all Shane could ever find the motivation to throw together before work. Shane's brown paper lunch sack was squished by a 24 oz. can of Joja Cola that had been carelessly placed on top of it, no doubt by Sam. As a result, the insides of the sandwich had squished out the sides resulting in a horrible mess. Shane hadn't brought a drink, maybe taking Sam's Joja Cola would be decent enough revenge for a ruined sandwich. There was little joy Shane could take on his lunch break, it might be considered bitter to take Sam's drink but at least it would bring Shane some amount of pleasure on his 30 minute meal break. 30 minutes didn't seem like much, but with such a small and boring lunchroom, there wasn't much else to do but eat. The small TV mounted on the wall had been broken for quite some time and Morris always put off fixing it. "When employee morale improves", he would always say. Morale wasn't likely to improve any time soon. Shane tossed his pitiful excuse for a sandwich onto the table, taking a seat upon one of the hard plastic chairs. Though the sandwich was a mess, Shane was at least glad the snack cake he'd packed would serve as some consolation prize for a lousy lunch, especially paired with Sam's soda. With a weary sigh, Shane cracked open the soda and took a huge gulp. He eyed the disastrous sandwich with disgust and pushed it aside. It wasn't worth it. Lunch breaks at Joja never were.
12:00. Lunchtime. Egg salad sandwich. It had been awhile, but Shane had eaten the last of his home cooked leftovers the day before, a quick sandwich had to do in a pinch. His insulated lunch bag was right where he'd left it in the Higgins family's fridge at Runaway Farm. They were kind enough to always provide him his own shelf in their fridge to store his lunches. Shane opened up his lunch bag and withdrew his sandwich along with a bag of carrots with ranch. From his shelf in the fridge, he reached for a bottle of seltzer water that he kept in stock regularly for himself. He enjoyed indulging in fizzy drinks but was trying to curb his soda consumption. Shane took his small lunch and headed outside to eat on the porch of the farmhouse. Though the dining room was quite spacious, Shane always preferred to eat outdoors when he could. The Higgins family never minded Shane's presence but he did feel better giving them as much of their space in their own home as he could. Plus, the view on the porch brought Shane joy. He would often find himself daydreaming or spacing out on his lunches, sometimes even plotting his next task on the farm. Yet Farmer May never minded how long Shane sat to daydream, sometimes she would even join him when she was able to and their visits would extend well over an hour. It was nice not to feel the pressure to hurry. It was nice to feel appreciated by his boss. When Shane finished the last bite of his sandwich, he rose from the padded outdoor chair and licked his lips, hoping for one last little treat. He crossed the farm and reached up to pluck a big, bright red apple from the orchard. It was so sweet and crisp, Shane ate the entire thing within a minute and tossed the core into the trough for the pigs. It was a nice treat to end his lunch break on. Lunch breaks at Runway Farm were enjoyable enough already but this only made it better.
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