Well, this little beauty certainly is an enigma. We spotted it on a recent foray into Tesco’s (how we long for the days when the cleaning stuff was on aisle 4, before they started flogging cosmetics and bread bins and moved all the good stuff down to Aisle 8 and 9. If I designed a supermarket I would lay stuff out RADICALLY differently, I….but that is for a different day). We didn’t know anything about it, but there it was, demure on the middle shelf but with the slightly brazen pink packaging.
If bleaches were prostitutes, with Domestos as the hardbitten, no-nonsense ‘madam’ of the cleaning aisle, Bloo Sweet Tulip is the new girl in town. Think Pretty Woman’s Julia Roberts: Quirky, innocent, but still slightly racy. And very reasonably priced.
Intrigued, we bought two bottles, the Fresh Daisy (which, to be honest, isn’t that great), and the Sweet Tulip which is on review here.
Just to be clear: do not repeat not drink this bleach.
Bloo: Sweet Tulip. Model: Author’s own.
But if you did decide to drink bleach, this is the one to go for
Now, we’re not saying one ought to drink bleach. One oughtn’t. But if you did decide to drink bleach, this is the one to go for. Oh the smell. Oh. My. Days. My household consists of two boys and one messy wife (Pictured above). Versus that, there is me, my OCD, my Zoflora collection and my nuclear bomb: the Bloo. Once the three of them have lost weight of a morning, it’s action stations. Once the cleanup is done (refer here for how to clean a bathroom) In I go with the Bloo. The thick viscous pink liquid oozes languid as it slides down the bowl. It hits the water and swirls and unspools, and all the while the smell, the smell of chemical bubblegum bursts like a billion slightly wilted roses from the bowl. Awesome. I put it on so thick you can almost taste it, pink sweet cloying bubblegum. For a moment, I think of swallowing some. We’ve all read ‘An Inspector Calls’ in English. (A disappointment. When I heard we were going to be studying it, I was ecstatic. After Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry et al, I thought we were getting a proper whodunnit, not some stupid metaphor)
So I know not do drink bleach. I do.
But for a moment I think that this would be different. The smell almost convinces me that this would be like drinking pin gin at sunset by the sea on a summer’s day. Pretty Woman’s Julia Robert’s holding my hand, just holding my hand and not talking (god that voice) For a moment. Rueful, I smile; the moment has passed. Back to reality. I’ve won. The toilet is clean. Immaculate.
And then one of them says they need another shit and we’re back to square 1.
In Summary: The temptress of the bleach world. A real Vixen