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Pink Passion Pop

Cost: $8.99
Alcohol Volume: 9.5% (5.6 standard drinks)
Pairing: Vietnamese, nostalgia, solemn undertaking to never again start drinking at 4pm
Verdict: ★★★½ “I’ve definitely had more disgusting drinks than this. But I’ve also had much better drinks than this.”

The night started with such promise. Over bad roti and good Vietnamese at Capital Market (the food court with the confusingly inconsistent décor on Willis Street), we planned the night ahead. An emotional occasion for some, we were farewelling Lydia’s former flat in true style: a regrettable Friday night rager, finishing with someone breaking something and the party awkwardly ending.

After dropping by Wellington’s greatest liquor store, Dixon Discount Liquor, we headed to the party with a bottle of Scrumpy and what we thought would be the biggest mistake we would ever make: Pink Passion Pop. Carrying on in the trend of the previous week, this drink was again named after a colour and not a flavour. We are considering launching a campaign to rectify this wrong in the beverage industry, but are held back by the fear that honest advertising of the actual flavour would be both eye-opening and horrific. Nevertheless, we came up with some helpful suggestions for the flavour: Alcoholic Ribena, Currant Affairs, Passion Not, and Why is This Called Pink If It’s Actually Purple? Passion Pop is essentially the Paris Hilton of alcohol. We respect Paris Hilton because we have a deep, feminist respect for all women. In much the same way, we respect Passion Pop because we have a deep, boozy respect for all drinks. Adding to this is the fact that Passion Pop is just actually not that bad and you should definitely continue to drink it if that’s your thing.

Having dealt with the actual business of this review, we would like to turn to marginally-relevant waffling about calls to raise the purchase age of alcohol to 20. Remember $1 wines at Estab on Wednesdays? Yeah, Judith Collins ruined that. Remember being able to buy a bottle of wine after 11pm? Yeah, JuCo strikes again. Basically, we’re just fatigued by the the Government’s dumb attempts to appease the anti-drinking lobby (see: Wellington Inner-City Residents’ Association) by heaping blame on people who don’t deserve it. And while we’re at it, fuck you Bill English. You’re not relevant to this but you’re just a bit of a dickhead.

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Ten things I wish my friends knew about being Māori

: 1). I wish my friends knew that when they ask me what “percentage” of Māori I am—half, quarter, or eighth—they make me feel like a human pie chart. I don’t know how people can ask this so nonchalantly, but they do. So I want to let you know: this is a very threatening