It's no coke: Your recent article on Agwa de Bolivia ("Liquid Blow?" Niki D'Andrea, June 26) was interesting and funny. I went out and bought a couple of bottles of the stuff, downed it all, and I can attest that it has no relation to the high you get from cocaine.
I did find it tasty, though, and it made me feel like I'd drunk a case of Red Bull. The problem with it was that you get almost no alcohol buzz from the stuff because of the high-octane caffeine content. My hair was standing straight up, I think, by the end of the evening (about 5 a.m.)!
While it comes in a cool bottle and can certainly keep you going well past closing time, I'll stick with my usual array of Red Bulls and vodka.
Lady Jane Smith, Tempe
No tomorrow: Agwa: Love the stuff! Can't get enough of it. It doesn't drag you down like other alcoholic beverages. You get a buzz like there's no tomorrow. It's great for sex! After reading your article and purchasing a few bottles, it's my new favorite elixir.
Joe Montero, Phoenix
Agwa + Jäger + Monster = Mmmm: I heard about Agwa from the owner of my favorite bar, Mardi Gras in Scottsdale. I tried three shots there with a splash of peach schnapps. I really liked it and picked up a copy of New Times on my way home and read your article, which I really enjoyed.
I wanted to try more of Agwa, so I bought a bottle of it at my neighborhood liquor store. The best mix I tried is four shots of Agwa, one shot of Jäger, and a can of Monster energy drink. That's the best Agwa drink mix ever!
Jaysin Hydeman, Scottsdale
Great gimmick, but it's nothing special: I'm two-thirds down a $49.99 bottle of Agwa de Bolivia and, as somewhat of an expert now, it is what it is: a 30 percent-by-volume liqueur in a 750-milliliter bottle.
Steele Reserve and Sudafeds would do a better job. Heck, $50 used to do a hell of a job to my libido. Talk kinky!
Great gimmick, though! Love the humor. But with the war on drugs continuing and energy drinks being the new caffeine — while ephedrine is behind the counter — what do we do for speed?
Alkaloids, how I miss you!
Joe's a monster: Brilliant review of Joe Arpaio's so-called book in New Times ("Joe's Tall Tales," Stephen Lemons, June 26)! I recently moved here from the East Coast, and I can't believe that this kind of demagoguery is tolerated in Arizona! From your story, I can see that I've got a lot to learn about my new home state.
That a public official of long standing would literally make up so much trash to inflate his image is beyond anything I've ever seen in my former hometown. Does he realize he's lying, or has he told the same lies for so long that he thinks they are the truth?
So Arpaio is 76 years old? Joe, if you're reading this, here's some advice: Try getting your moral affairs in order because you are going to be meeting your maker soon (a bad flu epidemic could hit town that could be the end for old folks like us), and you'd be better off to have something positive to tell Him about yourself. As things currently stand, when He reminds you that you lived without any compassion for your fellow man, that you were a corrupt liar, you'll have to nod in agreement.
My Lord, where's a term-limits law when it comes to this monster? I'm one senior citizen who won't be voting for the incumbent.
Mary Ann Nelson, Phoenix
Self-serving is his specialty: Stephen Lemons comes through again with an article that is not only well-researched but one of the funniest things to appear in New Times this year.
If only Joe's book actually had been subtitled "America's Meanest Sheriff Buffaloes Readers with Bogus Yarns, Unprovable Claims & Hoover Dam-size Omissions of Fact"!
But truth in advertising has never stopped Arpaio from offering up a self-serving story. Who else but Lemons has gone to the trouble to contact the original, real-life French Connection detective to debunk Uncle Joe's outrageous braggadocio? Former sheriff's official Tom Bearup's quotes are also priceless, as is ghost writer, er, co-author Len Sherman's attempt at spin control.
I had been wondering exactly who would stoop to helping Uncle Joe assemble his maundering collection of cornpone wisdom and erroneous personal recollections? Perhaps a superannuated night watchman in need of supplemental income?
It seems that Sherman has written other softball biographies. Who can forget his Popcorn King: How Orville Redenbacher and His Popcorn Charmed America?
Emil Pulsifer, Phoenix