Live Your Romances!

Dear Palmolive,

I used Palmolive Soap to “live my romance.” It worked! I was magically transformed into a secret princess named Sophiey with violet eyes and was kidnapped by a renegade pirate duke named Sebastian — but the experience was not at all what Rosemary Rogers and romance novels have led me to believe.

First of all, I suddenly found myself in 1798 and let me tell you, it stunk. What stunk? EVERYTHING AND EVERYBODY. My special fucking soap lasted about a day on that gross-ass ship and after that my charming duke smelled like the dumpster at Long John Silver’s.

Secondly, I was forced to wear a super uncomfortable gown made of wool even though it was approximately nine million degrees Fahrenheit in the East Assies or wherever we were.

Lastly, even though renegade pirate dukes are supposed to be awesome at ship-ey things, we ran aground and thereafter died of scurvy. It was better than eating each other, which is what the duke suggested. No, I don’t mean in the fun way.

I’m afraid I simply cannot recommend Palmolive. Ladies, use some damn Irish Spring — please!

Sincerely,

An Unsatisfied Customer