I recently updated by bio to include “singer” and “songwriter.” My dishonesty is your pain. This is where you pay for tuning in.
Behold, the newest member of the Abyss family. A humble little ditty called “My Christmas Song.” Be advised: You should not listen to this.
Fun fact: I was channeling Burl Ives when I laid down the vocal tracks.
Now please enjoy this, my gift to you. It’s the gift of time in the form of one minute of your life you’ll never get back.
What? Two blog posts in the same week with a bad word in the title? What gives? Better click in to find out.
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What possesses me? I’ll never know. So there I was, punching the word “poop” into Google and looking for the latest news.
“Watch Jersey Shore’s Season in Poop.” Yeah, yeah. No thanks, I’ll pass.
Eh? Wait one. What’s this??? From the Beauty & Style section, no less. “Man Makes Perfume Out of Poop & Holy S**t, It’s Selling.”
Ewwwww! De toilette???
You silly humans! Even now, at the end, you can still surprise me! LOL! Stop it. No, seriously. Stop it.
The gist of the story is this: An “artist” (I love putting that word in quotes) has produces 85 bottles of something he calls “perfume” that have been crafted from his own private business, if you know what I’m saying.
And it’s only $85 a bottle. And he calls it Surplus.
What’s his secret, besides finding a way to grab at his 15 minutes of notoriety? Does he have the poopy Midas touch? Did he somehow figure out a way to make poop smell good?
Erm, no. The point is supposed to be the opposite. You know how perfume can be used to cover up bad smells with something nice?
The point of Surplus is to cover your good smells with something bad. I shit you not. (Oops. That might be the slogan for Surplus.)
Intrigued? Learn more and see a advertisement here.
Come to find out I’ve been doing it all wrong. Every morning I wake up and go through this damn annoying routine so I don’t smell bad. I take a shower. I rub soap on my body. I wash my hair. I rub deodorant into my armpits. I brush my teeth. Oh sure, I still smell bed, but at least I friggin’ try.
Instead I could just roll out of bed, dab a little Surplus behind each ear, and head out the door to take on the day. I’ve got to admit, that would be a real time saver!
Artist web site: Jammie Nicholas