Febreze would like to help.
Also, this “Associated Content” review of Febreze Air Effects: Moroccan Bazaar is the greatest thing I’ve ever read.
David Schmader—former weed columnist and Stranger associate editor—is the author of the solo plays Straight and Letter to Axl, which he’s performed in Seattle and across the US. His latest... More by David Schmader
We have this in the restroom at my office. It’s not bad.
What I loved about the original Febreze when it first came out back in the nineteen hundred and nineties is that it smelled like NOTHING. Now it sucks and probably causes cancer anyway.
Moroccan Bazaar is not what I would want to label an air freshener as. I remember it being one of the worst things I’ve smelt in my life actually…
I spray this on my parrot every morning! What do you mean, I really shouldn’t?
I’m also a sucker for limited edition febrezes. This doesn’t smell anything like a moroccan bazaar, or ginger – which is what they say it smells like. It smells pretty much like all febreze smells. On the positive side, it doesn’t cause an allergic reaction like some of their stuff does.
David hasn’t read anything but that ever!
sulfur, saffron, and cigarettes?
So, that aroma would be – what? Dates, cardamom, black tea, and camel shit?
I don’t get it.
Just in time! I’ve been going with their Tijuana Fireworks Stand scent for a while now, and was looking for something that smelled a little less “recycling plant-ey”. Speaking of which, how is that shit not toxic? Indoor air quality folks, it’s worth keeping tabs on.
I propose Febreze Air Effects: NYC’s Chinatown on an 80-degree Summer’s Day.
Febreze Air Effects: Vintage Tacoma Aroma.
Sometimes I wonder what other people have in their heads. Turns out sometimes it’s numerous conversations with themselves about FEBREZE. I never would have guessed that.
Your average Moroccan bazaar robably smells better than my apartment…
The date on that Febreze review is not 4/1. I do not understand.
As someone who has been to a moroccan bazaar, no, I do not want my home to smell like sweat, dead fish, and open sewers.
“Moroccan Bazaar comes in a standard aluminum spray can, and is pretty easy to locate if you know what the Air Effect spray cans look like. In case you’ve never seen them, click here to see Moroccan Bazaar.”
Yes, I can see where Febreze is attractive to the “don’t know what a spray can looks like” demographic.
Seriously, Febreze is nasty. If your house stinks bad enough to make you want this, you’re a terrible housekeeper. Spraying horrible chemicals everywhere isn’t going to help.
It will never replace Turkish Abatoir.
Clean your house. Light a candle in your bathroom. ‘Nuff said.
I went to the store, and they were out. But there was plenty of Febreze Bangladeshi Flood on hand.
Also, was that Associated Content review satire? Is the whole site?
This whole thread is amazing.
I really, really need to know the criteria David used to declare that review the greatest thing he’s ever read.
23: See Fnarf at 17 for clues to my criteria. Also, this:
I was pretty shocked, and excited to come across Febreze’s 3 latest limited edition scents. All of them were inspired by international fragrances and I was more than willing to spend $2.50 on each of them. I grabbed all 3 scents and headed home.
Moroccan Bazaar was one of my favorites out of the 3.
“one of my favorites out of the 3.”
You can’t make stuff like that up. It’s a gift.
The same reviewer has reviewed something over 1600 other items, and is a huge, huge fan of household stink products, including everything Glade, as well as “luxury” brands like Yankee.
You know how when you walk past Yankee Candle in the mall, and even though you’re on the other side of the passage your tongue starts to burn from the chemical perfumes? Imagine living in a house like that. It might explain the popularity of heavily-processed food, though; they can’t smell or taste anything.
@24: I think I see what you getting at now.
With re-reading, what seemed merely dull and off-topic becomes significantly crazier: the oblique admission to a shopping addiction, the overdescription of the packaging (“light rich brown bottle”), the underdescription of the scent, the consistent lack of subject-verb agreement.
You gotta admit, this stuff IS pretty easy to locate.