We here at I Smell Therefore I Am have often asked ourselves, "How can one capture the idea of the emotion of the sensation of a bodily function?" That is a mouthful, and quite a lot to think about. Sitting in our little production offices, our thinking caps screwed on tight, we've also sometimes pondered the age old question, "How does one collect a substance whose production can only be stimulated from within?" These are questions prehistoric men tried to work out on the rough stone walls of their cave dwellings, and though many have asked themselves since, we at I Smell think we have come up with the most exclusive answer to this age old insoluble. We not only managed to isolate this substance, but have found a way to manufacture the stuff ourselves and to present it in the most luxurious manner possible, at the most pointedly expensive price imaginable. We gave it a French name, to make it extra fancy. Ladies, and gentleman, we present to you: Le Petite Fart.
We searched long and hard--strenuously, even--for a perfumer who might be able to distill this ultimate human extract into a scent, triggering your most primal reactions. It was an uphill grunt of a battle; often gut wrenching, we can tell you. Not just anyone can capture the evocative fecal fantasia of the body's most intimate secretions. In fact, only Beauregard Deux-Duchampion was full of it enough. Deux-Duchampion's Petite Fart exudes an animal carnality with moist, salty hints of sweat and urea. It comes over you like a majestic log of intoxication. We would tell you what's in it, but we would then have to kill you, in the most silent but deadly fashion imaginable. Take it from us and from more important people than you: This stuff is the bomb. In nature, we run from such an aromatic pyramid. Only the wonderful art of perfumery can make us want to rub our noses in it. The fragrance, like our methods, is explosively intense. Like a gust of noxious air from the bowels of a torridly pungent beast, Petite Fart seduces you with repellant fantasies of debasement.
Each bottle of Petite Fart holds only 10 ml of dark, viscous, pure perfume. Most perfumes contain between 10% and 40% of aromatic compounds. Petite Fart is 100% bullcrap. Petite Fart represents total release. Beyond a scent, it is a convulsion of the senses, a hot, gasping breath that penetrates your memories and alters your subconscious. Petite Fart sits on the fine line between toiletry and toilet, somewhere between excretion and excrement. It is the cutting edge of fragrance, the last word in stuff you wouldn't be caught dead wearing but can be made to feel you must not live without. We shit you not.
We have manufactured only 100 containers of Petite Fart. Each costs 1000 dollars. In case you feel that paying 1000 dollars is excessive for the pleasure and the luxury of bottled excrement, however rare, we have asked twenty artists to contribute an original, corresponding work of (f)art to the project, something they see in their mind's eye when they think of poop. You will not receive a copy of their work with your purchase, as it is difficult to transmit such one of a kind material through the mail, but you will receive the satisfaction of knowing that well known and sometimes infamous artists have put their names on this enterprise, adding to its pervasive air of bullshit.
As a disclaimer, we should point out that, yes, fine, there is a product called Liquid Ass, and that product has been on the market for some time, and Liquid Ass smells remarkably similar to Petite Fart in certain respects, but Liquid Ass, we should also point out, is only 5 bucks for a reason, and any product which advertises itself using the tag line "smells like ass...only worse" is really not anywhere in Petite Fart's league. Petite Fart blows away the competition, because we talk about it as if it were something preciously ephemeral, which it is, as opposed to merely scatological, which it isn't. Liquid Ass smells like nothing more than unwashed underwear, whereas we, ladies and gentleman, offer something far more illustrious and risque, a scent far more exalted, redolent of the sweetest, most exquisite, rarest of displeasures. Liquid Ass is, of course, as cheap and tawdry as its price tag would lead you to believe. It's so cheap it comes in 30 ml bottles ("size enough for many room-evacuating emissions," says the website. How crass!). Our 10 ml bottles of Petite Fart bring people closer together by putting them in touch with what drives them away, and you can't put a price on that, but we felt we should charge something, just so you know how precious such a thing is.
Please leave us a message if you would like us to bottle you up some, y'all! Our heads are up our asses, ready and waiting for your calls.