The “Dark Horse” Christmas present. You know the one: the one that looks like the throwaway afterthought, purchased hastily at the last minute, perhaps grabbed from the “Under $5” bin in front of the lineup for the cashier. The cheap potpourri. The tiny stuffed animal. The itty-bitty flashlight keychain.
Which promptly becomes the Present of the Year, for no reason which could have been predicted.
Many a mother, upon receiving a boring set of pots and pans, has realized later that they are the delight of her obviously Charlie Watts-inspired offspring, as they ignore their expensive video games and limited edition books to bash happily on the bottoms of the Le Crueset. Many a father has realized that, however much the young ‘uns like their new Playskool Mixmaster DJ Phunk set, they prefer to use the box to slide down the front steps in.
And so it is even with us adults.
This year, as explained, I got quite a haul. The presents were many; the presents were varied. As always, the presents were welcome.
But one stood out, even among such rarified company as two Squid tees, DKNY Red, and an MP3 player .
The Soap of Cthulhu.
Incidentally, Margarita glasses make excellent soap dishes for bachelorette pads.
This soap, this soap is truly astonishing. It never shrinks, seeming instead to expand with every wetting. Perhaps it is immortal. Pastel olive green itself (with a purple sheen, as you can see from the photo) when moistened it gives off a thick, dark green slime, the dregs of which can be seen all around the edges of the glass. I believe that, when my back is turned, these shoggoth-like agglomerations of soapitude actually creep. Its scent is a cross between pencil erasers and lardons, with a faint whiff of the polluted sea.
Thanks must go to Metro and Mistress Cowfish, who knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that this soap, designed for very specialized tastes indeed, had my name all over it.
In slime.
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raincoaster 