Then, Arby's said, "Hold my deep-fried beer in this edible mug of sugar glass that's also been deep fried."
When Arby's shows up, doom follows. It's the Bermuda Triangle of our fast food nation: Nothing good can come out of it but some psychological drive to witness unspeakable horror keeps driving us back to it.
That's the most plausible explanation for why someone at the fast-food giant gave the green light to two new Arby's vodka flavors that mimic the bland, barren taste and texture of their curly and crinkle-cut fries.
The ArbysVodka.com website (which must have been the most readily available URL to buy until someone puts Kimye2024.com on the virtual market) displays two bottles of its flavored vodka with a countdown timer wedged between them counting down the days — to the second — when the vodkas will be available. It's like a Doomsday Clock for your liver.
Yes, the novelty value of such a product far outweighs whatever flavor, bouquet or blanket of numbness liquor can produce. We know it's not something that was made for consumption because Arby's fries barely meet that standard. The texture of its curly fries are scabby and dry and the taste is almost nonexistent. The crinkle fries are better but not by much. Somehow, they still taste frozen and feel like you're chewing snow no matter how long they are bathed in hot oil. (Editor's note: The paradox of Arby's is that Danny somehow seems to know an awful lot about how the food tastes.)
Now imagine consuming one of those two options in vodka form.
The small print on the website says it's only available at "ArbysVodka.com to residents aged 21+ in CA, CT, DC, FL, ID, LA, MN, NE, NV, OR, WV, and WY for a limited time. Quantities extremely limited."
Buy it if you must, just so you and your friends can laugh at its presence in your liquor cabinet, but heed my warning: If you do, Arby's will think we want more of this stuff.
