Holy fuck I made a huge mistake. I lay myself at your feet and beg your forgiveness. I have sinned. I have completely disregarded the holy rule of Dollars Per Standard.
I was kinda fucked up by the time I made my way to the liquor store, so naturally my purchasing choices were very stupid and irresponsible, and I tricked myself into thinking a Bacchus Shot Bucket would be a fun time.
It cost $29.99 and came with 28 shots. While that may seem like a good deal on the face of it, if I had cared to do any digging I would have discovered that these shots came in at a pathetic 13.9%. Devastating. There were only 9.3 standard drinks in the entire fucking bucket. $3.22 per standard. It makes me sick.
OK, so most of them were Jam Donut flavour. Admittedly a delicious drink – Raspberry Liqueur and Irish Cream (let’s be honest, it’s definitely Canterbury Cream, not Baileys) make an amazing combo. It’s a soft, creamy and sweet operation that is reminiscent of the breast milk I suckled on as a young child.
Shot Buckets are a fun time. There’s no denying that. The two separate flavours congealing together in your mouth is a wild sensation, a bucket is a fun novelty, and the rip tops are satisfying to tear. It really brings out your inner white girl. You’ll be “woo-ing”, sending punishing boomerang instagrams, and thinking it’s cute to steal dudes’ caps all night.
At the end of the day though, you’re not getting drunk, at best you’re getting a sugar rush and at worst it’s either placebo or you’re just lying to yourself.
My final take on Shot Boxes: If you’re stupidly rich and in desperate need of friends, bring a box to a party and share them round so that everyone will pretend to like you, at least for a second. If you’re actually wanting to get lit, stay the fuck away.
Taste Rating: 10/10
Froth Level: Lying to yourself, pretending everything is OK, laughing to hide the pain.
Tasting Notes: European ancestry, privilege.
Pairs Well With: Tapas. ‘Cause why not.