A long-ass time ago, I said that I would take a bite of the soap that Serra made for me, and even after I got the soap, I never ate any.
I smelled it, though. It smelled good. Like eggnog.
Apparently this soap was made from REAL eggnog. I’m not sure which brand, but I do know it was purchased from the store. Maybe it was regular Turkey Hill eggnog. Maybe it was Farmer Dr. Timothy Leary’s Astral-Transmeditational Holiday nog. I’ll probably never know (but I might be able to guess since the hippopotamus-riding spiders stopped trying to eat the eggplants that were growing out of my face a few days ago).
Sherlock and Wookie liked it too. It had only been sitting on the counter for a few hours before I noticed tiny scratch marks in the surface of the soap. I guess I could have gotten upset, but I was actually happy that those fur-covered poop factories were taking an interest in cleaning themselves. Seriously, these cats are the dirtiest cats I’ve ever seen. I think they sometimes hold in their tiny little lumberjack-sized stink-torpedoes until we’re just in the middle of dinner, sending us racing for the upstairs bathroom in a fight to see who gets to vomit in the sink, and who gets to vomit in the toilet. (By the way, hon, it’s your turn to clean the litterbox.)
I’m off on a tangent. Look, over there! It’s a TRANSITIONAL SENTENCE!
So every day I see this soap, and I think, “It’s going to start a fight club in my crap factory, but I promised to eat it.” And then I would go about my day, not really at all consumed with the tiniest semblance of guilt. Sociopathic tendencies? Maybe? I don’t really care. I mean, look at how much you’ve had to read through so far just to get to THIS point and I STILL haven’t talked about eating the soap or the after effects. In fact this very sentence (not to mention the prior sentence) are completely unnecessary, and serve only to delay you further. You wish you could skip ahead, but instead you read on, enthralled by the power of my words! Bwa ha ha ha … wait come back! Okay, seriously. I’ll get on with it now. I promise.
One day I’m looking at the soap and I think, “Well, it smells pretty good.” And I lick it and think, “Actually, it tastes pretty good too.” So I grab my camera and go at it.
I took a reasonable sized bite, just in case it was so terrible I wouldn’t accidentally inhale it and have it get lodged in my airway. Magical tap-dancing Jesus was it horrid. It’s like eggnog went to jail, was repeatedly sodomized by a canister of Ajax for six years, and then got paroled into my mouth. The texture was almost as bad as the taste.
As you can see from the picture, there seems to be two layers to the soap. The outer layer was firm with a texture like chocolate. But don’t let that fool you for a moment into thinking that it was tasty, because it wasn’t. It was like licking Mr. Clean’s grundle. Yeah. How’s THAT for a mental image?
The inside was kind of soft, but had a distinctly stronger eggnog taste. Not a good taste, mind you. Imagine you left a carton of congealed eggnog out in the the summer sun for six or seven hours and then mixed it with shampoo and you’ll have some idea as to the taste and consistency. It was like the candy Satan puts in your stocking after Santa leaves. Horrid. Simply, unfathomably horrid. If you glean any information at all from this blog, know that you should never eat soap.
I spent about 10 minutes at the kitchen sink rinsing my mouth out, but even after a few hours I could still taste the horrible almost-eggnog-but-mostly-soap taste. It just wouldn’t go away! Finally while washing my hands in the bathroom (with the eggnog soap, naturally) I noticed a little brown chunk of soap embedded between my teeth. I’ve tried to capture it here, but it’s too small, and the camera is too close. If you go to the flickr page, I’ve tried to show the offending soap with photo notes.
Further rinsing was no good because most of the surface area was covered by my teeth. Flossing didn’t help either. It just mashed the soap against my teeth and gums. I wasn’t about to risk brushing and have soap stuck on my toothbrush, so with a Macgyver-like spear made of toilet paper and a toothpick I was finally able to remove the last offending bits. And thus, my adventure with eating soap was over.
I wish I could report that a geyser of frothy pain erupted from my bowels, but I guess I didn’t eat enough soap for it to have any ill-effects on my digestive system. Lucky you. Can you imagine how I’d go about describing THAT in intricate detail after the Mr. Clean analogy above? And you KNOW I would have taken pictures.
I think we were all spared.
You are so disgusting. I’ve no doubt in my mind that the cat’s learn their grossness from you.
Well, if it takes a horrible, nauseating experience like that to get you to finally brush your teeth, I’m all for it.
Yeah for brushing your teeth!
I feel gyped… no major malfunction with the fudge factory? No fecal-fotoblogging? What gives?
I increased my word power by one today. Fancy that, grundle, another word for TAINT!
Try the other end with the rest.
It looks like a chocolate bar with peanut butter inside.
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Im speechless. (starting now).
Did I tell you it would be eggnoggy-sugarplums-with-cream-tasting? Fuck no. I told you it would suck ass. And now you know I was right.
The reason for the two-color job–vanillas in soap turn brown when they’re exposed to air. This batch got it double-barreled, from the vanilla in the eggnog itself and the vanilla in the fragrance oil. The outside has gotten exposed to air its whole life; the inside hasn’t.
When it’s used for what you’re supposed to use it for, you don’t see the inside because as you wash away the outside with use, the brown gets a little closer to the middle.
“…the brown gets a little closer to the middle.”
Hmmm… Makes you think.
PS, Thanks for changing the comment text color from that God Awful no-contrast gray. Wait… It’s back! It’s gray only when the mouse is not in the box. Tricky, tricky…
Bekah- No, I learn it from them.
CBC- Well, there’s a first time for everything I guess.
Snay- Yeah for me!
Maven- Yeah, my tummy digested it fine I guess.
tfg- I might need to borrow some of your “tools” first.
stephanie- and yet it tastes like the Devil.
jali- ?
j$- ??
PLD- You, speechless? Never!
Serra- Ah, I see! Thanks for the soap-science Teach’.
Alan- Now I finally understand what you were talking about. I was thinking, “Grey text? What on Earth does he mean?” Now I get it. Yeah. just keep your cursor in the box… that’s what SHE said. Ha!
OMG! YOU KNOW THE DEFINITION OF GRUNDLE! My husband and I constantly fight about that. He doesn’t accept grundle as a word to describe said area.
Who doesn’t know grundle??
Wow, we almost got to see your whole face there, bucko. Feel dangerous today, are we?
That last sentence did not make a bit of sense. I’m obviously ready to go home now…
Oh dear lord you are truly, insane.
uhmmm. ok then.
Wow, there’s enough imagery in that post to haunt me for at least another week. I’ll have sleepless nights trying desperately not to imagine the taste of Mr Clean’s gooch.
Um, wow, I hope you didn’t swallow that.
I admire how you value your life so little that you’ll just munch away on any suspicious thing a blogger sends you. I’m off to whip up a bunch of weird looking shit to try and get you to eat.
Lori- Grundle is THE term of choice. Taint is second-banana, as it were.
Jules- Nah. You can’t see my nose.
T67- Anything for the nog.
BPR- Yes. Ok.
Ugly Toy- Gooch! Ha! I had forgotten that one.
DJ- Well, it certainly didn’t affect my system any.
I’m disturbed by how closely it resembles a chocolate/pb bar. As if it was meant for such a fate…
You look different here from your wedding photos.
When did your site turn into Steve, Don’t Eat It!? Just kidding, I love it. Keep eating gross things! But not silkworm pupas.
Didja check out this over at The Sneeze? Take a gander at #17 on that kid’s list…