Finally a soda for depressed gothic teens.
A putrid rank drink with edible floating fungus
The can is without a label, it is jet black and it sits way to the back of the shelf
Billy Obose enjoys a Horrid pop one snowbound afternoon in the mountains, his product line has done him good and he has gotten the fuck away from all of it. In his room burns a long blacklight bulb. It makes the white and green skull glow with a feeling, a feeling you can smell, like old angst, pure crystal, then diamond, like a pure thing that can be chipped off and smoked away.