* which is just a hair above hi-fi nerds, raw dogfood evangelists and BPAL enthusiast shut-ins in the Blogger Credibility Index, for those keeping score at home.

Stand back, I’m going to try CONTEXT!

On May 19th your gracious host Tweets,

Hello trees! Hello sky! Hello bi-monthly compulsive @LushLtd online blowout! Goodbye, mortgage money; Mama’s got a sultana soap habit.

… So here’s what I’ve been washing myself with lately. Ho! I love the internet.

Herbalism: YOU GUYS. SHUT UP. This smells like vinaigrette. I would have full sex with a good vinaigrette . If you know me you will be aware that I basically have a palate receptive to vinegar, crunch, citrus and burnt, so I don’t care if this brings my face out in leprosy, I love it already.

Sultana of Soap: Guess which Dire Straits positive proto-husband picked this out? Good call for him, actually - very creamy and moisturising. Only micro-quibble is that dried fruit is not strictly necessary and arguably rectally hazardous. I will say no more; you wouldn’t want me to. I ordered three “by mistake”. Arf.

Sandstone: I am an exfoliation thrillseeker, so I love the idea of this, I love the sherbet lemon smell, I wish it did not dessicate me so. Oh well. Replace the sultanas with sand in the above and we’ll talk.

Sweetie Pie: A solid “Alright”. It smells like You Snap The Whip, which I could probably eat in a sandwich, but I don’t really “get it”. It’s a soap! It’s a jelly! It’s both! It’s neither! It’s fallen out of my hand again! It’s stuck in the plughole! It’s 7 am and I am not quite firing on all three intellectual cylinders and I do not need this kind of attitude from soap!

For my next trick I shall become a MAC cosmetic fascist! You know that’s gotta give a girl a leg-up in the league table marked “Rad and Delightful”