Odor Be Gone

Smells are a form of communication.

When you open the fridge in the morning, and something funky wafts out, that’s some leftovers’ or produce’s way of saying: “Hey buddy, I think you forgot about me, and now, I’ve made the transformation from edible to inedible to uncomfortable to be remotely near. So you probably better find me and dispose of me right quick.”

And when you come in from a jog, and you catch the smell of something vaguely organic and not-so-vaguely unpleasant, that’s your trash’s way of saying: “Hey there, friend. I’m not be full the brim yet, but boy howdy, it might be time to haul me out to the bin nonetheless.”

And when you hang those running clothes up in the laundry room in the basement to dry out, and then go in again the next day and it smells like a high school gym, that’s your shirt’s and short’s way of saying: “Pal, we sure do appreciate your commitment to physical fitness, but we’re getting mighty ripe and would love a tumble in that big ol’ washing machine over yonder.”

And these charcoal bags are your way of responding to what those smells are telling you. They say: “Get off my fucking back, assholes.”

Here’s what you do. You put them in your fridge, or your kitchen, or your laundry room (or next to the litter boxes, or in the pantry, or wherever) and they absorb bad smells. Then, when they stop working, you put them out in the sun for two hours, and viola! They’re refreshed!

Which is great. Because the fact that you smell something in the fridge doesn’t mean you have time to Dr. House that shit. Or bag up the trash. Or do a whole wash for two articles of clothing.

Not to mention, smells linger. When you find the thing in your fridge that was turning to slime in a Tupperware, you have to open it (releasing an even stronger stink into the greater kitchen), dispose of the contents, and clean the container, and its stench is still gonna hang out for a while. Same goes for the trash smell. Same goes for the sweaty clothes odor.

(And don’t even get me started on things that just smell like farts when they’re totally fresh and edible. As part of a carb cut recently, I grated some cauliflower to turn it into “rice,” and even inside a sealed glass Lock-and-Lock, I could’ve sworn, every time I opened the fridge, that my house was being haunted by a ghost whose unfinished business was literally that it needed to do its business.)

So choose the size of pack that best suits the number of stinky corners in your house, and get deodorizing! You’ll be glad you did!