Podcast 8: The Tea Before Christmas
What: Canton Beeng Cha (Canton Tea Co.)
How much: a lot (not sure which one we got)
What kind: Pu erh
Taste: Like drinking an Aztec clay pot
Repeat Drinkability: 3.5/10 (This is the Color Me Mine of tea)
Manliness: 4/10 (On a scale from one to concrete, clay is a four)
Don't bother trying to figure out the title. It's a google target thing. Also just to get this straight, we don't like reviewing bad tea. It's funny sure, but our mouths go through enough with all our bad language.
The Tea Blag's TTNBC:
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the spot
Not a cup was I stirring, not even FRESH POTS.
The teabags were hung, but nobody cared,
Since there was only but Lipton in there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of fat chicks danced in their heads.
And Tea_Pain in his third steep, and I in my fifth,
Had just racked our brains over this shit.
When out in the mail there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my mic to see what's the matter.
Away to the lobby I flew like a flash,
Tore open the package and threw up the stash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen chick
From Thirsty Thursday She asked for my--
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature teapot, and a eight tea samp-leer.
With a little old green tea, so grassy and meh,
I knew in a moment it must be totes gay.
More boring than than Lipton, first course was tame,
But then I looked and saw all these by name!
"Now Joy! now, Boston! now, Element and Canton!
On, Butiki! On, Rishi! on Chicago Tea Garden!
To the top of my box! to the top it was stuffed!
Now brew that shit! Brew that shit! Brew that shit up!"
As dry leaves that before the tea come,
When they meet with a force: Beasts of Brewdom.
So up to the pad, with box in my arm,
Tea_Pain looked over at me with a look full of smarm.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the stove
The whistling and screeching of some boiling hot.
As I steep in the tea, and was brewing a pound,
Down the staircase Adam came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedophile, out for a snack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! how happy his jowl!
His badgers smelled roses, his nose smelled the PAO!
The tea was now brown, and smelled like dank weed,
And my hairy nose started smelling his mead.
We then saw the lapsang in our new batch of tea,
And adding some gin made the smoke taste sweet.
We got fucking drunk, Used Car Smell Part II,
Then made some Teaception, BWOOOOOOOON!
We went on our Twitter and trolled for a few,
Apparently nobody's on at 3 except Jews!
I wondered if Adam ever got with that chick,
They went to Dobra, heard she wanted the dick.
Adam, how'd you fuck that up?
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the stairs he rose!
We finished the last steep, to our sponsors, we tasted,
Fucking motherfucker I'm so caffeinated.
Good thing we recorded this or else "fucked" we would be
"Happy Christmas to all, and Give us more fucking tea!"
blah blah blah fat chicks, girls pouring eggnog on themselves, duckface, google algorithm words