lobsterchick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mmmmm... Smells Like Alcoholics! How desperate does one have to be to write an entry about soap? This desperate. I love Irish Spring. There is no getting around it. I went to Target tonight for the sole purpose of getting fourteen bars for five dollars. In what beautiful, Utopian universe does one procure fourteen bars of the most marvelous-smelling soap for a mere five dollars? IN THE TARGET UNIVERSE, THAT'S WHERE. I love opening the bathroom door and being smacked in the face with the sprightly scent of Irish Spring. This may, in fact, be the only time I approve of anyone smacking me in the face. See? I allow Irish Spring liberties I would never authorize anyone else to take. The one caveat: You must not succumb to the temptation of the other IS (as I like to call it) varieties. Oh, sure, I've tried "Icy Blast," and in a fit of sexual confusion, "Sport," but they do not compare. There is no way they ever could. The original Irish Spring, with its website featuring music, is the Queen of Soaps (I do not subscribe to the sexist notion that it is "manly yes, but I like it, too." I believe IS to be a distinctly unisex soap). Oh, and also, since I don't think I've ever mentioned this to you guys, for the price of a couple hours spent online combing through websites like Colgate-Palmolive and Procter and Gamble, and almost any other beauty/health product website you can think of, you can rack up quite a stash of free trial sized stuff. Even if there's no designated "special offers" area, an email might yield interesting results. I once emailed Neutrogena, and in addition to the needlessly snotty reply I received back, three weeks later I got this badass makeup case chock full of stuff, worth about fifteen bucks. 10:59 PM - 15 February 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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