If you’re going to drink mead, do not wash your hands with Irish Spring ™ brand soap.
If you serve mead at a dinner party and you have this brand of soap, keep it out of the bathroom.
For the two together smell exactly like a urinal cake. That is all.
Caj
Irish Spring ™ soap doesn’t need mead to smell like urinal cake.
It comes that way.
No, no, NO. Urinal mints I have known have a sweetish component to their scent that a bar of Irish Spring alone wouldn’t have.
Irish Spring…begorrah. Y’know, Caj, if I want to smell “Irish”, I have a bottle of Tullamore Dew for that. 
but…but…what about that jaunty theme song that sounds vaguely like Scotland the Brave even though it’s not? What about the guy that slices off a hunk of soap revealing that the Irishy green streaks are not merely surface ornamentation? What about how it’s manly, yes, but I like it too??
In my mind, Irish Spring commercials and Lucky Charms commercial are all confused and mashed-up.
Irish Spring is magically delicious.
Lucky Charms: Manly, yes, but I like them, too.
Here’s one of the ways I amuse myself when dining at a fine restaurant (the kind where the food isn’t wrapped in paper and they give you a real napkin).
Go to restroom.
On your return, pick up napkin and pretend to dry hands.
Announce in a low voice just loud enough that only the people sitting next to you can hear, as if you are talking to your self –
“Damn urinal cakes were upside down again.”
Note: Though this strategy is intended for men, it would probably have a nice added bit of surrealism if performed by a woman.
I’m afraid I’m not following the topic of this thread at all. I have never encountered a urinal mint that tasted like Irish Spring soap, but then again, I have never rubbed myself with green marshmallows for luck, either. 
djm
A good new Irish Spring marketing strategy would be to package them in urinal cake hangers, and instruct customers to mount them on the shower wall in just the right spot that you can do a backbend while kissing the Blarney Irish Spring Urinal Cake Soap.
… but wait a minute, is there something wrong with the sensuous aroma of a urinal cake?
I am allergic to strong-smelling deoderant soaps, as well as industrial-strength under-arm deoderants. Irish Spring is an especially bad offender, although visually I like the looks of it. One of my worst fears is that I am going to buy an expensive ticket for a concert, and just before the performance begins, someone reeking of perfume or deoderant will sit down beside me. The first thing that I do when I enter a performance hall is to plan an exit strategy in case this should occur. Trans-Atlantic flights have me worried for the same reason. I am planning a trip to Ireland in June, but I can do without the Irish Spring on the way, thank you.
My mother, may she rest in peace, thought that it was a terrific idea to place little bars of perfume and deoderant soap throughout the house. After my father’s death, I was in charge of cleaning out the house where our family had lived for fifty years. I ended up with three large grocery bags filled with bars of soap, much of it Irish Spring. The neighbor lady was quite happy to take them off my hands, I might add. I couldn’t get the soapy smell out of the house, however.
I can’t claim alergies, but I can’t stand being in houses that are just stiff with perfumes. The ones that are really offensive are these oil-burning things that sit on top of the electric lights. These things seem to scorch the chemical brew poured into them. Guaranteed to rip your nostrils open.
And yes, little old ladies do seem to adore this stuff, though I am, as usual, loath to use sexual stereotypes.
djm
Yeah, Irish Spring™ soap is almost radioactive it’s so strong. I know people who don’t otherwise have allergies but who can’t be in the same house as that stuff.
I usually buy the cheapest soap I find at the store, figuring that soap is soap, and only when I get home do I realize, “zOMG I just bought eight bars of Irish Spring.”
–Caj
True story: The state of New Mexico has begun a program to help get drunk drivers off the road.
The plan is to put talking urinal cakes in the lavs - (apparently only men drive under the influence in New Mexico) - and as the ah, “bar patron” does his business, the urinal cake has a chip embedded that gently reminds those relieving themselves that they should not drive while intoxicated.
The program hasn’t been in place long enough to be able to report as being a success or failure.
They can report, however, that the talking urinal cakes are quite popular. So popular, in fact, that many bars report that the talking urinal cakes are all being STOLEN.
“Happy birthday, honey. Look what I got for your birthday present. Your very own talking urinal cake. Only slightly used!”
Oh dear Caj, you really must learn to read labels.
I recently gave away 60 pounds of scented kitty litter because my husband didn’t read labels when he stocked up on the stuff.
Last week he came home with garbage bags that even he had to agree (after I brought it to his attention) were worse stink pretty than that scented kitty litter.
I used to wonder it there was any truth behind Aroma Therapy and if the Western World was screwing itself up by making just about everything scented.
Oh, just freakin’ great! Now we’ve got ads for fancy smelling French Soaps appearing at the top of the screen!
djm
I’m in the scentless-preferred camp, myself. Unfortunately that’s almost entirely impossible in the US, especially if you have no choice but to shop at the usual type of stores. One time I bought a product marketed as “unscented”. What an out-and-out lie that label was, and I’ve encountered the same phenomenon since with other items. I think there really ought to be a law about that, seriously. There are a couple of products that live up to their labelling now, though.
A deodorant soap that I hate is Dial. Never understood how people could stand the scent of it. Just recently bought a generic liquid soap, and what does it smell like? Yep. I’m thinking of just throwing it away and getting something else. The scent and taste contaminate my hands and what they touch for hours.
And by the way, I can’t find unscented candles any more. I charge conspiracy. Vanilla. Pralines and Cream. Why? Why? Just because I buy candles, it doesn’t make me freakin’ precious. Bought a white candle marked “Cotton” once. I thought, Now, that ought to really be interesting.
Talk about things coming full circle: it smelled like yer basic laundry detergent. (← laugh of derision)
Of course you’re precious Nano.
To depart from our usual twin-think, otoh, I really like my Mexican Cocoa scented candle. In light of the fact that I sweeten iced tea, this is perhaps not so hard to believe.
You might try plain 100% bee’s wax candles. There is a slight scent but it isn’t added or part of the product as it is with petrochemical candles. If you aren’t allergic to honey products the slight bee’s wax smell probably isn’t going to be too intrusive.
For soap, I recommend Dr. Bronner’s unscented.
Dr. Bronner’s scented soaps aren’t bad if the essential oil they fragrance it with is what your constitution needs. Unfortunately the average person has no idea or training to determine that.