Dear Febreze

"Febreze® believes everyone deserves to breathe happy, and we want to prove it every day, to real people, in real life. "

These are your words.

Lifted from your web page.

I'm a real life, real people. And I'm not happy.

My children watch way too much television. And if that isn't enough to make me unhappy, I am vicariously subjected to your disgusting commercials at frequencies well beyond tolerable.

I like thrift shops. But I don't like watching your suckers sit in a filthy excuse for a thrift store smelling rotten old sneakers, sitting on a bedbug infested couch and making cooing noises while they inhale your "happiness-in-a-spray-bottle". I find it disturbing.

And just for your info, my peeps in the "new to you" industry don't put out filthy sh*t like that.

Here's the other thing. I like to spend an obscene amount of time on pinterest. I also like to scroll through hundreds of pages of craftgawker, and pin, pin, pin to my hearts content.

But then you know what happens? While I'm merrily scrolling along, catching visions of red, turquoise, and yellow.... a nasty pop-up of a hysterically happy woman in a blindfold smelling a foul looking string mop takes over my line of vision. Do I want to pin this?! I THINK NOT!

Why the impassioned response to your ads? Because. I personally think that febreze stinks. More than soiled running shoes, kitty litter boxes, tattered couches, and blue cheese. I used to work in a facility that was maniacally committed to your product, and sprayed their couch in its sinus clogging matter fortnightly. Yuck. It was impossible to relax on that couch. I felt violated and assaulted at every subtle shift in my darrierre.

Febreze. I deserve to breathe happy.
In real life, as a real person.
So quit butting into my pinterest and generally spraying your nasty attitude in all sorts of places that I don't want to smell it in.

Or I'm going to make a real life really big stink.