Our Tivo, Overlord II, protects our delicate sensibilities from the ravages of crass commercialism. We had to catch up on a show recently by watching a missed episode on Hulu and we were barraged with ads for blue fig and orange blossom scented body lotion.
There is something about the nonsensicalness of blue fig scented lotion that makes me utterly and completely irrationally batshit angry.
I’m not sure if I’d be this angry if it was just “fig.”
I think “blue fig” may just be a bridge too fucking far.
Orange blossom. There are many kinds of blossoms, so it makes sense to be specific. Plus, orange blossom is a pretty benign scent. Or maybe I’m just immune to it, being from Florida and all.
Are there that many types of figs?
What does a blue fig smell like?
What does a fig even smell like?
I like figs, why can’t I remember what they smell like?
Why aren’t you as outraged about this absurd product as I am?
This. Is. Bullshit.
This is such bullshit I broke my own rule about using one-word sentence constructions in blog posts for comic mock-indignant effect.
I just googled figs and immediately got distracted by the first item: Are figs really full of baby wasps?
No. Let’s not go down that rabbit hole right now. We need to sniff some figs.
I just demanded that we drive to the nearest convenience store immediately to buy a package of Fig Newtons, but Husband is no fool. After this many years, he knows how that will go down: I’ll buy them, rip them open, shove my face in the package, and inhale deeply while he stands by trying to look casual.
I suppose you have a better idea for how to determine what figs smell like?
Yeah, well, neither does Husband.
He said there’s no way on earth he’s driving to a grocery store that has figs in stock just to sniff them. Because who has figs in stock at this time of night?
It’s very late at night.
And if I still care about this tomorrow, which I probably won’t, finding fresh figs could end up requiring either a lot of driving or a lot of calling or, most likely, both. That’s too much like work.
Poor Husband, up until moments ago he was unaware of Fatberg, proving that Husband and I have very different twitter feeds.
Now, back to blue fig.
Wait, blue figs aren’t even figs. Blue figs are actually quandong.
Oh my god. The shaving gel sample from Sephora that I gave Husband is labeled, “Australian Quandong scent.”
That stuff smelled weird.
There. I proved my point. Blue fig is not only not a fig, it’s a weird fragrance choice that we should all back slowly away from.
We should maybe also back slowly away from actual figs, because I think they may be full of wasps.
I wrote this in August & forgot to post it. I know Fatberg is old news and all the kids are talking about venomous crustaceans now, but I was too lazy to edit that part out.