You know, I don't think Evangelical Christians think very highly of New Yorkers. Sometimes I'm concerned that we're perceived as an irreligious flock, laughing at the faithful from our decadent studios of sin. And it's not a fair characterization. It's really not. I'm here to prove it.
You see, beloved readers, I am a deeply religious person.
Sure, I may not worship a "traditional" God. So maybe my God can't split seas or condemn heretics to hell. Maybe He can't dole out judgments from a fluffy sanctuary in the sky. But I'll tell you this: He was bottled at the source in Bergamo, Italy, and He does have naturally occurring carbonation.
What I'm trying to say is that you must accept Pellegrino as your true Lord and Savior, for only in its salty bubbles can you find salvation.
My love for Pellegrino —- or "Grino," as it's affectionately known amongst disciples —- is a transcendent love. The feelings I have for my family, friends and girlfriend pale in comparison. How do I love thee, Grino? Oh, let me count the ways. There are its subtle traces of sodium, giving you a faint taste of the sea in every sip. Or that soft hiss it lets out when you sensually unscrew its cap.
And its bubbles. Oh, its bubbles. So ephemeral, so delicate that every single one will burst if a bottle is left open for more than twenty minutes. Lo, the Grino giveth and the Grino taketh away. It's so perfectly carbonated, so different from the savage chemical-warfare of Seltzer or the oppressive fizziness of Perrier.
Ah, yes, dear reader, you must resist Perrier, the antichrist, a pathetic imitation of the One True Beverage. People who like Perrier are like the sad fools in Plato's Cave who are just lovin' every minute of the puppet show.
Did I mention that it's naturally carbonated? DO YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN BY THAT? I'm telling you that Grino comes out of the ground as Grino. I am dead serious, look it up. Pellegrino seeps out of a volcanic spring deep underwater, mineralizing as it rises up, like Lazarus, through a 2300 foot wall of Italian limestone. What more proof do you need of intelligent design?
I know what you're thinking. "Peter, you pretentious private school fuck, drinking your fancy water out of a jeweled goblet." But are you aware that a bottle of Pellegrino costs $2? Yes, you read that right. Grino is comically affordable, especially considering it's more precious than a pink diamond slathered in truffles lodged deep within the golden heart of Dakota Fanning.
In fact, I believe the common misconception that Pellegrino is a luxury beverage for the 1% is part of a vast corporate conspiracy meant to protect the bottled water industry. Because seriously, who on Earth would buy bottled water if they knew that Grino could be flowing across their taste buds for the same price? Now sure, you might say, "Peter, that makes no sense. Nestle manufactures Pellegrino, and they also control the entire global water supply."
But what do you really know about Nestle, hmm? Are you aware that Nestle also owns…Perrier? That's right. Nestle owns both Perrier and Pellegrino. That's like owning both Heaven AND New Jersey. Can you really trust this Nestle character?
By this point, you're probably wondering, "Why am I reading this? Are you completely deranged?" But what you should be wondering is, "Why am I reading this, when I could be sippin' on some o' dat sweet, sweet Grino?"