Zestfully Clean

Being nomadic and relying on the kindness of friends and family to put us up while we look for employment and a place of residence has reminded me of one thing: I'd like to meet the inventor of body wash and shove a bar of soap in his mouth.

When did we decide that Body Wash was the way to go? It just kind of creeped into our collective bathrooms. So sneaky was its weaseling of its way into our lives we didn't even notice when it smoothered the bar of soap with a pillow. Like the bathroom of every host who is generous to grant us stay has not a bar of soap to be found. Its all "Peach Cobbler Fresh" and "Rainshowers on Lilies" body wash. What was so wrong about a bar of soap? Evidently, its an endangered species now.

I hate Body Wash for 2 reasons. First, I shave my face and head in the shower. At home, I use a bar of soap as lather to shave. I do this mainly so I can say as much at parties and feel ultra manly. Telling people I shave with just a bar of soap is usually followed something like "What's that? No, that isn't my Harley in the parking lot, but I can see how you'd think that." With the advent of Body wash, there is no soap in the shower to shave with. I know I should probably have my own, but soap is horribly difficult to transport. And its soap. There used to be an assumption of it being there for use in the shower. Now, I'm resigned to scraping my face with some blue liquid that provides little lubrication to the blades.

Second, Body Wash means that the owner of said wash has a nappy spoungy thing hanging in the shower that you constantly brush up against while taking a shower, which is a wonderfully annoying sensation.

Anyway, I suppose Body Wash is just a scapegoat to my real problem, missing a place of my own with things how I like them, but sill, using soap is not a crime. Stand up and fight for Dial.
U-N-I-T-Y