Tuesday, March 15, 2005


I saw a most peculiar TV commercial on the weekend for a mysterious new product called “Febreeze Scentstories”. As I understand it, this “Scentstories” player doesn’t actually play music, it teams with other special Scentstories theme discs to work much like a CD player. The player will then rotate through five specific scents on each disc, one by one with a new scent every 30 minutes – before shutting off when finished.

As the commercial promised: “the Scentstories player and disc create a new-to-the-world experience of the senses” - all, except, common sense that is! Furthermore, “since the discs are reusable, you can experience your favorite theme again and again. Breezy, fresh, inviting.” How about they just save themselves the time and money and just step outside their fucking door once and a while and go for a nice walk? Would that not make for the better “new-to-the-world experience of the senses”?

I think this is taking the whole aromatherapy thing a little too fucking far! Consider the options available for these lazy, unmotivated, cooped up schmucks to vicariously live out through their $34.99 mechanical world of senses: ‘Explore a Mountain Trail’, ‘Wandering Barefoot on the Shore’, ‘Following the Winding Path’, and even ‘Shania’s Wishes for Spring’ (does Shania’s Spring smell differently than anyone else’s? I guess being a millionaire would automatically make the ordinary thawing dog poop and decaying leaves outside smell a little more pleasing).

This all sounds pretty uber-gay to me.

Most men would rather dig a hole and bury this contraption I'm certain. Surely this is a product that is primarily marketed at the more open, softer, keener sensed females of the human species. Men just don’t give a shit about such nice smelling things. We’d likely be lynched and hung from the rafters of our local boozer by our drinking buddies should we ever skip a Friday night to stay in to experience ‘Relaxing in a Hammock’ for 2 ½ hours on our "Scentstories" player – and taking a meditative journey by experiencing “soothing tea, dew drops on petals, comforted with lavender, meditating with incense, and tranquil vanilla.”

Good merciful God – just drive the spike into my temple now!

That is of course, until they can design something a little more masculine for us guys that we may be also interested in experiencing through the powerful sense of smell. As it happens I have two such suggestions:

1) Rebuilding a Model-T Carburetor – greasy workshop by the morning dawn, stale instant decaf coffee, Big Stu’s gaseous fart, shop managers skanky breath, and cleansing with turpentine.


2) Superbowl Sunday Spectacular – Buffalo wings and blue cheese, sweat socks and beer farts, spicy salsa burp, nagging girlfriend wants to go home, and post-game bathroom meltdown.

Now THOSE are some “Scentstories” that we men may be able to pass 2 ½ hours enjoying! These are true journeys that we can appreciate as proud members of the swinging penis brigade.


Blogger MPH said...

How about:

Rancid rest stop bathroom

Enema shop waste disposal unit

Kittens stuck in the oven

9:28 PM  
Blogger crazytigerrabbitman said...

LMAO! When written out like that, it's like some bizarre perverted kind of Haiku.

10:31 PM  

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