When I first saw the commercial for Poo-Pourri on the internet I thought it was a spoof. The product claims to contain all the odor from smelly bathroom episodes in order to help you save face (and eyebrows and nose hairs in particularly toxic events). There was no way you would have been able to convince me upon first glance that this commercial was for a real product. But I looked it up and lo and behold this is a real product and apparently a fairly popular one as well. You can find it on Amazon, go on to the product site to buy it (in over 20 scents), or find businesses in your area that sell it. Never fear West Fargo and Fargo residents, I pulled the local retailer list for you.
Shotwell Floral, 4000 40th St S, Fargo;
Vintage Point, 1450 25th St. S, Fargo; and,
Fowler’s Heritage Co., 210 Broadway-Suite A, Fargo.
I am not sure why Shotwell Floral is on there, but I find it endlessly amusing. Can you imagine a man sending you flowers and a bottle of Poo-Pourri after your first date? OMG – I would pee my pants laughing!
I wish I could tell you that this magical product is within the reach of all income levels, but at $15.90 for 2 ounces plus shipping on the product page you really must weigh whether you are more inclined to hang on to your money or your dignity in the face of a toxic bathroom visit. The way it is advertised, it is clear that the target market is women – the more gentile women who loathe to admit they poop and the semi-aware women who acknowledge the biological function, but swear their poop smells like flowers. Now it actually can with Poo-Pourri.
You know I have to do a market test on this folks. I need to know for myself if this Poo-Pourri is all it is cracked up to be. I ordered a 2 ounce bottle of the Dejà Poo variety. It supposedly is good for a hundred uses…we will see.
I will test this product for the good of womankind and report back. I hope it really does work like folks say it does. You know I would particularly relish the opportunity to say in my blog that based on my own research I have confirmed that “my sh*t don’t stink.”
Day one thousand one hundred and ninety-nine of the new forty – obla di obla da