Wednesday afternoon I gave the liquor store guy a ten and got back $1.03, a disgusted glare, and the three sexiest-looking bottles of full-strength Boone's I could find. Let's get down to the pretty gritty:
Wild Cherry: They really nailed the fake-cherry smell with this one, and the color bears a comforting resemblance to my grandpa's tumbler of Hearty Burgundy after the ice cube's melted. It's nothing to write to the old-folks' home about, though. It tastes like cherry Pop-Tart filling, and it's nearly as thick.
Strawberry Hill: This sneaky bastard looks inoffensively pale pink and smells mild enough, but it tastes overwhelmingly of Welch's strawberry soda, with a sleazy little edge that whispers, "Dude, don't worry, 16's legal in this state!"
Watermelon: This deep pink beauty smells like the air freshener in my Uncle Richie's 1981 Camaro. Better yet, it tastes precisely like watermelon Jolly Ranchers, which is to say it tastes nothing at all like a watermelon but it does taste like something that, deep down, you know you like. If it were possible for a grown man to drink enough Boone's Farm to catch an honest buzz without going into hyperglycemic shock, this would be my stuff.
Overall, I wasn't disgusted by this tasting. Though self-respecting drinkers hate to admit it, humans like sweet things; there's a reason no one ever brags about the sour deal they got on their apartment or how cute their bitter new kitten is.