gigisiguenza
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Jul 11, 2015
- Messages
- 1,391
- Reaction score
- 917
1) Animals are spawns of the soap gremlins -
No matter where you put the cat when making soap, she will pull a Houdini and get out, fully focused on getting revenge by trying a) to trip you when carrying lye solution, b) attacking SB cords so they fall over and splatter raw batter everywhere, and/or c) biting your ankle to get attention at the exact moment you are pouring a delicate swirl. And before you suggest putting them in a crate, save your breath. The gremlins have spelled the latches so that the slightest swat of a furry paw will cause the door to fall off like Superman charging through the vault door to save Louise Lane.
2) Your FOs are cursed -
It doesn't matter how much research you do, what the website says, or what every single other soaper has told you their experience has been, your FO will accelerate trace, rice, discolor, and or cause overheating. I blame this on the trickery of the soap gremlins again, because they put some kinda bad mojo on your FOs as soon as you decide you're going to use it. I may counter this attack by doing the Eeny Meeny Miney Mo method from now on. I'll let ya know how that goes.
3) Accept that you are colorblind -
You can plan til your eyes bleed, measure to a 9 point decimal of a fraction, and even use a tried and true method from a soaper who's been doing that method since God was in knickers, and your colors will never look like you thought they would. You want lavender? You'll get grey blue. Had your heart set on a lovely pink? Be grateful you got a shade of burnt beets that isn't too hideous. I've come to realize that as soon as lye solution hits fatty acids, the color receptors in your eyes turn off and you're pretty much winging it. So just accept it when your friends say it's gorgeous, because you can't tell what it looks like anyway.
4) Your friends will question your sanity and stop inviting you to dinner -
Since you're now obsessed with soap, every topic somehow leads back to it. A simple discussion about the Dahli Lama will rapidly become an excited discourse on the 900 ways the turmeric in tiki masala can be used to color soap. This will quickly be followed by an eager request to view their spice cabinet and pantry, which may or may not result in some haggling with the host as you plea with them to let you trade a kidney for just a pinch of their exotic hoozitwhachamacallit powder they brought back with them from their trip abroad. Their new stainless steel cookware isn't safe either, but they don't need to know that.
5) You no longer have friends, you have addicts needing a soapy fix -
People used to call you up to go out for a drink, play some scrabble, or eat lunch. Now they call to ask when the latest batch will be cured and how soon can they get a "tester bar". This can be a good thing if you use it to your advantage, as soap is a good bribe. You'd be surprised what the average friend will do to get a bar of iguana's milk, organic martian honey, venusian oatmeal soap sculpted into a unicorn farting rainbow sprinkles.
6) Your fate is sealed -
Because there is no such thing as too much soap (a laughable concept, I know), you're very likely going to die financially destitute, surrounded by mountains of soaps and supplies, and the coroner will rule your demise the result of an accident caused by the gremlin controlled cat knocking over a precariously leaning tower of wooden molds.
Your family will tsk tsk and say they shoulda seen it coming after they found you scent drunk, sleeping on a pile of empty FO bottles again. Your friends will lament your passing and say beautiful things about your soaps at the funeral. And it will be SRO at the reading of the will as everyone waits with baited breath to learn who will inherit your prized stash of discontinued FO dupes. Oh, and they'll all be floored when the attorney announces that it was YOU who successfully trademarked the words "all natural", thereby causing the Great Soap War of 2025.
Gigi
No matter where you put the cat when making soap, she will pull a Houdini and get out, fully focused on getting revenge by trying a) to trip you when carrying lye solution, b) attacking SB cords so they fall over and splatter raw batter everywhere, and/or c) biting your ankle to get attention at the exact moment you are pouring a delicate swirl. And before you suggest putting them in a crate, save your breath. The gremlins have spelled the latches so that the slightest swat of a furry paw will cause the door to fall off like Superman charging through the vault door to save Louise Lane.
2) Your FOs are cursed -
It doesn't matter how much research you do, what the website says, or what every single other soaper has told you their experience has been, your FO will accelerate trace, rice, discolor, and or cause overheating. I blame this on the trickery of the soap gremlins again, because they put some kinda bad mojo on your FOs as soon as you decide you're going to use it. I may counter this attack by doing the Eeny Meeny Miney Mo method from now on. I'll let ya know how that goes.
3) Accept that you are colorblind -
You can plan til your eyes bleed, measure to a 9 point decimal of a fraction, and even use a tried and true method from a soaper who's been doing that method since God was in knickers, and your colors will never look like you thought they would. You want lavender? You'll get grey blue. Had your heart set on a lovely pink? Be grateful you got a shade of burnt beets that isn't too hideous. I've come to realize that as soon as lye solution hits fatty acids, the color receptors in your eyes turn off and you're pretty much winging it. So just accept it when your friends say it's gorgeous, because you can't tell what it looks like anyway.
4) Your friends will question your sanity and stop inviting you to dinner -
Since you're now obsessed with soap, every topic somehow leads back to it. A simple discussion about the Dahli Lama will rapidly become an excited discourse on the 900 ways the turmeric in tiki masala can be used to color soap. This will quickly be followed by an eager request to view their spice cabinet and pantry, which may or may not result in some haggling with the host as you plea with them to let you trade a kidney for just a pinch of their exotic hoozitwhachamacallit powder they brought back with them from their trip abroad. Their new stainless steel cookware isn't safe either, but they don't need to know that.
5) You no longer have friends, you have addicts needing a soapy fix -
People used to call you up to go out for a drink, play some scrabble, or eat lunch. Now they call to ask when the latest batch will be cured and how soon can they get a "tester bar". This can be a good thing if you use it to your advantage, as soap is a good bribe. You'd be surprised what the average friend will do to get a bar of iguana's milk, organic martian honey, venusian oatmeal soap sculpted into a unicorn farting rainbow sprinkles.
6) Your fate is sealed -
Because there is no such thing as too much soap (a laughable concept, I know), you're very likely going to die financially destitute, surrounded by mountains of soaps and supplies, and the coroner will rule your demise the result of an accident caused by the gremlin controlled cat knocking over a precariously leaning tower of wooden molds.
Your family will tsk tsk and say they shoulda seen it coming after they found you scent drunk, sleeping on a pile of empty FO bottles again. Your friends will lament your passing and say beautiful things about your soaps at the funeral. And it will be SRO at the reading of the will as everyone waits with baited breath to learn who will inherit your prized stash of discontinued FO dupes. Oh, and they'll all be floored when the attorney announces that it was YOU who successfully trademarked the words "all natural", thereby causing the Great Soap War of 2025.
Gigi