Second, I'd be interested to hear your take on this article: Excuses, Excuses.
Sharp essay, BTW, but I'm afraid you plucked some awfully low-hanging fruit.
Not me.
I am universally loved.
When I fart it's potpourri, when I sneeze it's pixie dust, when I poo it's jellybeans, and when I vomit it's fruit salad.
I am universally loved, and I have no more odor than a freshly-baked muffin.