In an age where children are born with their own Gmail accounts, it’s easy to feel shafted on the social media front. I hear you, disgruntled children of the teens. It’s not easy having to remember both that you love potatoes and a randomized ten digit code signifying so, potatoluvr593857381. OkCupid makes you slap an -asaurus or -taco to your name as if those are acceptable suffixes for quirkiness. There are entire businesses dedicated to suffix generation. It’s not easy out there. Have a pickle ball.Why a pickle ball? It’s not because they’re sour or green or inexplicably on this earth to exist as a pickle in hard, portable candy form, but because they have virtually no online presence. I mean it. There is not a single review, obnoxious YouTube video, or hashtag out there proclaiming these pickle balls as anything. The closest I could find were dead Amazon links with the promises of pickle balls becoming available someday, maybe, and a gritty from-the-torso video shot of some guy making his kids eat these. Could this be the greatest underground candy ever created? It is very likely.For starters, if you put your phones away (figuratively, I’m no monster and I need you to keep reading this. My Google Analytics account thanks you.) you’ll find that this contains every piece of relevant information you need to know for 2015, especially if you live in Texas. I cannot stress this enough. It’s the taste of San Antonio. It’s great with your drink, reminding you to stay hydrated. It contains history- a little man driving a car on the front reminds the reader to remember the Alamo. I remember the Alamo! Well, I remember learning about the Alamo, but I mainly remember the douchebag who taught me about it and the stick he used to point at students and menace them with. Thanks for a lifetime of weird trauma, Carl.The back reveals a wealth of knowledge and know-how to get you through the harsh terrain of society. Allergen information, surprisingly simplistic ingredients, a random but welcoming address in San Antonio, and SAY NO TO DRUGS. The wholesome jurisdiction of pickle balls could substitute for a number of American parents. Twitter reveals a veritable curtain of teenage nostalgia. Not only are the San Antonians wistful for the siren’s call of natural cucumber powder, but the torture that accompanies it. Tweets recommend pairing them with sweet tea, Hot Cheetos, and shoving them down your opponent’s faces. It is also an all-purpose pejorative, as in, “Royal baby could suck my pickle balls the name means fuck all to me.” Linguistics! Lacking an opponent, I went about making my beverage. Four pickle balls means four chances to savor the flavor- solo, with tea, with Cheetos, and with water as a control. Ready to roll.
JESUS CHRIST, I DID EVERYTHING YOU TOLD ME TO. WHY DO YOU TASTE LIKE DEATH? I didn’t even do drugs! I did no drugs and I remembered the Alamo and my mouth is flooded with the pure taste of Bath and Body Cucumber Melon lotion, Lemon Pledge, and Texas Pete hot sauce. That’s all these taste like. Despite the natural flavors and hint of tamarind, there’s nothing to these but dye, pain, and ascorbic acid. They probably have a Florida’s worth of Vitamin C. I might turn green. Say no to drugs, and say no to pickle balls.