Isn't using toilet sprays a bit like magic mushrooms in pizza?
THE world is a baffling and frustrating place.
For instance, why are toilet sprays overwhelmingly "fruit-driven”? We've got Winter Apple, Pear Provencale and Madagascan Mandarin Gourmet Room Mists in our toilet.
In the toilet!
Gourmet, in the dunny? Why do we have three? Why do we have any? More on that later.
Meanwhile, another mystery. Why do farmers burn everything?
They love nothing more than bulldozing bushland, chopping stuff down, raking it into a pile and burning it. But why?
Why not just let it rot like the rest of us do and save the planet, or at least make rural mornings more pleasant.
Another thing. If you wash you shower curtain, do you have to hang it out to dry before putting it back?
What do you do if a part in your 3D printer breaks?
When did soap become body lotion or body wash? Are they the same? Or have I been softening myself up in all the wrong places, along with all the dirt that failed to wash off?
When did the word "substantial” become "substantive”? Why? Does it sounds more important and therefore the user must be, too? Politicians have a lot to answer for, or would if they ever answered anything.
But back to fruit-driven toilet sprays. Who decided that fruit was the way to go?
According to university tests, if a household is eating basically the same stuff, no-one notices the smell, but clearly this is science gone awry and anyway, isn't using toilet sprays a bit like the old days when you tried to make magic mushrooms taste nice by putting them in honey or on a pizza?
You didn't end up with nice tasting mushrooms, you got terrible tasting pizza or wasted a jar of honey, just as you don't get a toilet smelling of fruit. You get terrible smelling fruit instead.
Apologies if the term "fruit-driven” conjures wine events which have just been spoiled, or soiled, by association, so here's a few other fruit-driven things with which to help remove that unsavoury imagery:
Beelgara Estate Semillon Sauvignon Blanc 2016, $9.50.
A very festive price matches the very festive label of a colourful bunch of birds, a perfectly suitable metaphor for whom this wine should be shared. 8.5/10.
Scott Adelaide Hills Piccadilly Valley Chardonnay 2014, $40.
That's a pretty specific location and you could ride around it in about 30 mins on a motorbike, which is not a bad idea. Not a bad, subtle and suave, chardonnay either. 9/10.
Paringa Estate 'Estate' Pinot Gris 2015, $22.
How many times can the word estate appear on a label, and still be legal and legible? As many times as you like and the fourth occurrence gives you automatic admittance to the journalists union. 8.6/10.
Paringa Estate 'The Paringa' Shiraz 2013, $80.
$80 is a far bit to pay for a wine, so see if you can get someone else to pay, or buy a lottery ticket at the same time, and you might be able to get two. 8.9/10.