My church is officially scent-free, so with yesterday being Sunday, I naturally began to ponder my own smell.  For the most part, I smell like food.  I’m not referring to the fact that I probably have a blob of this morning’s white chocolate peanut butter (I know–I’m obsessed) somewhere on my face.  Or the fact that I just had some garlic cheese dip that is more garlicky than cheesy.  (A mosquito flew by my mouth and died).

I am talking about the things that I bathe in and slather on during my daily “attempt-to-make-myself-human” routine.  Everything smells like food.  I have shampoo that smells like coconuts.  Brown sugar body wash.  My body lotion is black raspberry.  I smear vanilla in my armpits–which is an affront to vanilla, I’m sure.  I have even traded in my traditional toxin-flavoured mouthwash for citrus mint.  I consume my entire day’s caloric intake every time I sniff myself.

I’m surprised that more humans aren’t eaten by bears.  Don’t they like to eat honey and berries?  I’m basically a walking grizzly treat.  Maybe the human fascination with smelling edible explains the actions of the Donner Party.  They simply mistook Bob for a loaf of bread.

My humour has now reached an all-time low.  Even for me.

1)  I admit it.  I leave the house smelling like an all-you-can-eat buffet.  But some of the food groups are omitted.  I don’t want to smell like the dairy aisle–particularly parmesan.  I reserve that for the days my feet sweat.  Nor do I want to smell like anything from the meat aisle.  A whiff of liver paste is not sexy.  Unless you’re a Schnauzer.

But the Demeter Fragrance Company has done the unthinkable.  They have captured the smell of lobster and bottled it.  Are they freakin’ nuts?  Who the hell wants to smell like a dead crustacean?

Let me permit Demeter’s, the company that has also bottled fragrances under the names “Earth Worm” and “Funeral Home” explain.  This is their take on this fragrance (polite way of saying stench):

It is a mix of “the sea, sweet meat, and a hint of drawn butter.”  Really.  Sweet Meat?  That sounds like a bar I know.

If you want to get yourself a waft of some seafood smell, you can find it here  http://www.demeterfragrance.com/58083/704130/All-Classic-Scents/Lobster.html

And, while you’re at it, you may want to visit your nose specialist.   You’ve got something seriously wrong.

2)  I could hardly discuss toiletries and “eau do toilette” with mentioning the toilet.  It is, after all, the most important toiletry item of all.  Without it, the world would be a much messier place.  And walking would be a perilous sport.  And no one would ever wear sandals.

But I digress.

Until today, I didn’t have a “dream toilet.”  I didn’t know it was even possible.  But now I do.  I want a Toto Neorest, the Guinness World Record Holder, for the toilet with the most functions.  The Lincoln of Latrines.  The Cadillac of Crappers.

Of course, it comes to us from the brilliant minds of the Japanese.  Seriously.  I so want to go to Tokyo!

This baby has a heated seat and a lid that automatically opens and closes–hopefully not while someone is standing in front of it.  Ouch.  Not only does it clean itself (now that’s my kind of toilet) and freshen the air around it, but it also washes and dries the user.  And, wait for it.  It has a…REMOTE CONTROL!   I get the whole “cool” factor, but it makes absolutely no sense to me.  As a germaphobe, I don’t want to be handling anything that people  have been poking with their butt-wiping hand.  Ack.  Great.  Now I have barf breath.

3)  Before I brush the vomit taste out of my mouth, I might as well get through the third item in today’s diatribe.

We’ve all been to “theme” restaurants.  You know–50s diners, Ponderosa-like nods to the Wild West, and restaurants that revolve around cartoon characters.  The food isn’t always the best, but they’re fun.

But some themes are simply not meant to be around food.  Meet Hong Kong’s Modern Toilet Restaurant.  I’m not making this up.  I have no problem with the glass-covered sink tables.  Or the plunger light fixtures.  I do, however, have trouble eating from a toilet.  Even a brightly coloured, miniature one.

To make it worse, many of the menu choices are–well, mushy and poop-like.  On purpose.  Turns out this is a multi-franchised hit.  Okay, so it would be cool to see.  But that’s where I draw the line.

There.  Now I can brush my teeth.

Photo Credits:  lobster fragrance (dailymakeover.com), grater (fonemenu.com), toilet bowl (hahaha) (intelligenttravel.nationalgeographic.com).