Is it just me who doesn’t get the big deal about VKs?

First of all, I’m not sorry.

If anything, you’re the one who should be apologising for your mainstream needs in the form of a beverage that looks so, so toxic, because really, how else do you describe the abomination that are VKs?

VKs are overrated, yet everyone up and down the country are obsessed with them. They don’t even taste great, do they?

They’re too sweet. A VK is what feels like a concoction of sugar, sweetener, and artificial flavouring which all culminates in your teeth itching to fall out. The flavour in themselves, which include the incredibly descriptive flavours of ‘Blue’ and ‘Ice’, really speak for themselves, because what type of flavour is that anyway? Obviously nothing natural.

What a crazy human being

As boring as it is, they’re ridiculously unhealthy. The Blue one comes in at 168 calories and the Orange and Passionfruit is 220 calories. You can have two and a quarter glasses of gin and tonic for that! Guessing that the average VK drinker has six bottles a night, that would mean you have half your daily calorie intake just on the monstrosity of the wildly coloured drinks on one night out.

Speaking of which, VK drinkers look ridiculous waltzing around with four drinks in their hands, thinking they’re the bomb. No, mate – your hands look like claws, grasping onto your precious drinks which are clearly just as bad as your life choices.

A VK drinker can always be found with their VKs clasped in the air, struggling to dance to the music whilst still holding onto the bottle as if it is their baby. Why commit to this torture, when you can just have shots for half the price to get twice as drunk?

On a night out, things are easily spilled. If a VK gets on your clothes, it looks like someone has spilled toxic waste down the front of your T-shirt. No one needs a fluorescent stain down them when they wake up the next morning and can’t handle the light. Neon hues make a hangover ten times more disastrous, and without VKs, we can avoid this nuisance. 

Not only your clothes, but it stains your tongue a vile colour too. It honestly threatens your chances to pull. I’m not going to get with you when your tongue is a putrid green colour. It is 100 per cent not a turn on, especially when there’s someone else slamming sambucas at the bar with a normal coloured tongue.

Speaking of pulling, are you, like, fifteen? Didn’t your mum get you a box of VKs when you were heading to your first house party? Surely VKs are your “lol I am so hard drinking on a Friday night with my friend’s parents in the next room – I am absolutely mental” drink from when you were still doing your GCSEs. They weren’t acceptable then, they’re certainly not acceptable now.

I just don’t get it, not when they’re so popular. Everyone’s entitled to their own opinions, but surely this a publicity stunt. Is someone having me on? They have everyone obsessed, choosing to drink only that for the entirety of the night. And it’s not okay.

While Greg Barradale, a loyal lover of VKs, took a vow of disgusted silence against my distaste, Journalism second year Mared Parry, said: “I personally can’t understand how someone couldn’t possible enjoy a VK. There are so many flavours and varieties, there’s something for everyone! Or so I thought.”

Third year Meg Manganaro, who studies Law and is the self-proclaimed queen of VKs, said: “VKs have everything. It’s easy to dance with, it tastes like heaven, and I’ll be downing that over a shot any day.”

Well, I’ll stick to the actual vodka, thanks.