Wear. The. Bliss.

Ah, yes. Souvenirs. And the amazingly well-written pamphlets which accompany them.

Note: I am joking about the well-written part. Amazing, yes.

On our girls' trip, Daughter and I are browsing. For souvenirs. Because we are on a pier, many souvenirs are ocean-oriented. Such as dead starfish and dead sea urchins and dead clams, poached in some marinade, probably a mixture of formaldehyde and tobasco sauce, waiting to be opened to reveal a pearl. A magical, fortune-telling pearl.

We are enamored with the pamphlet, which reads in part, and I am not kidding because I may be clever, yes, but I cannot possibly make up this kind of stuff:

"Don't you want the pure pearl to witness your pure love?

Don't you want to start a legend and romantic love?

Why are you hesitating for

At present, the magic pearl has been sealed in a pot. It becomes a modern gift with a new appearance, presenting before you, not only a fortunate will be given to you, but also is a trend of fashion."

Note: Huh?

Daughter follows the exceedingly clear instructions and is wearing a Love Pearl 'which till now, we almost have found the two same Love Pearl.'

Note: Huh?

Anyway, look for a Love Pearl at a gift shop near you, 'the new annotation of the Classical Romanticism.'

Note: Huh?

'Wear the Bliss.'

Heck, yes!