Unfortunately, I’ve developed an unreasonable hatred of Burt’s Bees. Or, I don’t know, maybe it’s fortunate—who knows what time will tell? But the hatred is just like all my other unreasonable hatreds, a wide assortment that includes Perez Hilton, people that walk too close to you on the sidewalk, the smell of spearmint, Russell Crowe, and white men over 65.
I know there’s tons of good stuff about Burt’s Bees. They use all natural ingredients, fair labor, good business practices, etc. But their hand crème feels like sticky, messy crap on my hands. And the smell is just okay. One time a lady at a mall kiosk tried to peddle me an almond lotion that smelled better than this.
I’ve always thought of hand lotion as a delightful, decadent experience but this stuff sure takes the fun out of it. I’ve been suffering through just so I don’t feel like I got ripped off for $8; if you put it on at night and don’t touch anything, in the morning the stickiness is gone and your hand-skin is a little softer.
27 Stars. Come to think of it, Burt probably falls into that over 65 category, the damn bee-keeping bastard.