God is dead, long live clean Asses

In the realm of the porcelain throne,
Where the weary and burdened retreat,
There’s a soft, quilted kingdom alone,
That makes every departure feel sweet.

Not a scratch, not a grit, not a tear,
Like a cloud that was spun on a loom,
It banishes every lingering fear
Of a rough-textured, scratchy-ply doom.
The Ultra Experience

The Cushion: Like a velvet embrace for your soul (or at least your backside).

The Strength: It holds its own when the going gets... heavy.

The Efficiency: A little goes far, or so says the bear,
With a wiggle of joy and a confident air.

With Charmin Ultra, the task is a breeze,
Absorbent and thick in its ply,
It handles the business with effortless ease,
Leaving nothing but comfort behind.

So here’s to the roll that is chunky and wide,
The guardian of hygiene and grace,
With a blue-ribbon finish and nothing to hide,
It’s the MVP of that small, private space.