Lush Bath Bombs

Or, A Good Bath Spoiled

For Christmas a friend of mine gave me a selection of Lush Bath Bombs; she felt bad that her last birthday gift to me bombed and was hoping to make amends, knowing that I loves me some bath.  Well, I used to at my old apartment, which had a huge bathtub that easily swallowed my 6' 2" frame.  The apartment that I have lived in for the last 14 years or so was built in the 50's and has one of those teacup-sized bathtubs that make me look like Rock Hudson in a Doris Day movie.  One of these days, if Lotto winnings ever come across or I write that 8 figure screenplay, I plan on getting a lap pool with endless hot water and hot and cold running Corso Como.  But I still do love my bath, and for New Years I looked forward to a nice hot bath and a glass of champagne.  My inner Joan Crawford would be released.

What I didn't know is that these bath bombs come with stuff in them.  Lots of stuff.  The blue one I chose had bits of dried leaves, small plastic cutouts and glitter.

Yes, glitter.

Since I don't have a personal maid and a 24 hour on-call plumber to snake the bits of Lush detritus from my pipes, I tried to strain out most of the stuff.  I personally don't find attacking ones ablutions with a tea strainer adds to the restful, contemplative portion of our evenings program.  I can't even tell you whether the stuff was decent bath goo- by the time I had managed to skim most of it off my hands and forearms were covered by so much glitter that it took a fair amount of Kiehls grapefruit scrub and a brush to get rid of it.  Needless to say, By that time I didn't want to actually immerse the rest of me in it.  Down the drain went the whole lurid cobalt mess, and I spent another half hour scouring the dregs out of my tub.  Apparently according to the website if one doesn't want the "surprise" of the various bits of fluff, one should enrobe the whole mess in a nylon before you bathe.  Like most gay men and contrary to popular belief, I don't have a pair of panty hose available to rein in the Pamela Anderson portions of the whole affair, and the hose will not contain the hugely over-concentrated coloring, which if you are like me (and Joan) you will be bleaching out of your tub the instant you step out. 

They do smell kind of nice, which led me to a use for them.  I threw one into the toilet.  I get the benefit of the nice scent without having to worry that I'm going to have to pick lavender lint or glitter out of my netherlands for the next day or so.

I sent my friend a thank-you note; I know she meant well and honestly wanted to please (and thanks be, never reads blogs; don't tell her, k?).  Maybe there are other things in their line that work better; with me, the whole trendy Westside stripper-pole Yogalatese esthetic of these bombs bombed.

Photo from Lush.com