Look. I don't know you, and you don't know me. It's fine. I'm in no mood to explain myself, or even introduce myself. But I will tell you why I felt the need to test and rank every current flavor of Gatorade known to humankind.
I woke up this morning, feeling like I was both standing on and shouting at my head. My stomach, my poor innocent stomach, is currently enveloped in what most medical professionals would refer to, politely, as "bubble gut." My mouth is dry. I want to cry (though, that might be unrelated). I feel like there are ants on my skin and hey -- there actually are a couple. Why did I sleep on the floor?
Basically, I am hungover as shit.
And like any self-respecting young adult in the 21st century worth their weight in artisanal sea salt, when I feel like all of my nocturnal bad decisions have come crashing down on my head, stomach, heart, liver, and gallbladder (I mean, I think), I drink Gatorade. Pedialyte is for dorks, and working out is for overachievers. So, I turn to the performance enhancing sports drink made for athletes, but actually utilized by reeling man-children such as myself, as we lick my proverbial wounds.