Better than any Super Bowl ad. Old Spice: The Man Your Man Could Smell Like

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Comments (104)

  • Cordie Towne Reply

    This man has the 1000 yard stare. A flashback to his days in the Great Emu War.

  • Bettye Macejkovic Reply

    man the budget cuts are getting harsh

  • Frances Graham Reply

    Next time you hug him just be like "phew, you smell like a man! Were you at the gym earlier or something?" Or like try to find a way to bring up a scent of deodorant you like. Classic old spice smells good to me. Or if the topic of scents comes up, say "oh I love the smell of Irish Spring soap" or something. Guarantee he will buy some.

  • Haven Konopelski Reply

    My favorite time of being complimented on smell was a long time after showering that day and wearing old spice and BBQing. Gave my friends girlfriend a hug when she came over for the BBQ. "You smell like all that is man and I love it"

  • Hilma Pfeffer Reply

    SQUIRREL

  • Larissa Streich Reply

    on a budget used is the way to go my man

  • Simone Langosh Reply

    Seriously. I spent a lot of time in the back yard crying and hugging my dog as a kid. Man, I was a pussy.

  • Elenor Breitenberg Reply

    what's ur state? what's ur budget? they all scan my man

  • Orland Roberts Reply

    [[Squirrel Nest]]!

  • Kristina Kreiger Reply

    This seems relevant to OP's interests: [Old Spice | The Man Your Man Could Smell Like](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=owGykVbfgUE)

  • Stephany Lowe Reply

    And a lot of people who wear old spice swagger smell like a man, man

  • Greg Reichert Reply

    The Glitch Mob in a GoPro (I think?) ad.

  • Bernadine White Reply

    Repo Man's budget cost 1.5 million.

  • Kendra Heidenreich Reply

    GoPro Ad, still good music but yeah

  • Cameron Ledner Reply

    Jake Arrieta would make a perfect Old Spice guy. *The man your man could smell like.*

  • Meggie Bergstrom Reply

    Oh look a squirrel

  • Rafael Walsh Reply

    And 2 that have started a Super Bowl.

  • Jewel Bednar Reply

    > prowlers in the next yard Oh man, those are the worst...

  • Brown Bruen Reply

    Day after super bowl day

  • Wilhelmine Langosh Reply

    Hello, men, look at your lady, now back to me, now back at your lady, now back to me. Sadly, she isn’t me, but if she stopped using man scented body wash and switched to Old Spice, she could smell like she’s me. Look down, back up, where are you? You’re on a boat with the woman your woman could smell like. What’s in your hand, back at me. I have it, it’s an oyster with two tickets to that thing you love. Look again, the tickets are now diamonds. Anything is possible when your woman smells like Old Spice and not a Sir. I’m on a horse.

  • Fred Kuhic Reply

    A trap set for a man. Shotgun wired to a door handle, pit covered by a rug, land mines in yard, e.g. This one is putatively nonlethal, but still a mantrap.

  • Arvilla Orn Reply

    Squirrel!

  • Neha Mohr Reply

    I use old spice wolfthorn. It's a men's deodorant/antiperspirant but the only one that works all day for me and it doesn't smell like a man.

  • Eda Padberg Reply

    Squirrel!

  • Sienna Grady Reply

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  • April Marvin Reply

    the gopro ad seems kinda out of place

  • Kaia Carroll Reply

    Old Spice. Because I smell like the man your man could smell like.

  • Lilla Hoppe Reply

    Yo, they must have spent half their budget on squibs man.

  • Helmer Stokes Reply

    Nah man, fuck the neighbor. Have your dog take a dump in yard!

  • Monica Emmerich Reply

    Be a man son, chow down, sweat like a peodo in a school yard and expect to stink of curry for the next week.

  • Fritz Harris Reply

    Fuck yah man. Wanna go smoke cigarettes in the grave yard after school?

  • Prince Reilly Reply

    SQUIRREL!

  • Rose Barton Reply

    "Now if if you will follow me this way, I'll show you the patio and unfinished pool area." "Fantastic! The interior is lovely, and Dicky Jr. will love that Mother-in-law apartment above the massive garage." Said Dicky Sr. with the sounds of a sold man. "Now Dicky, lets not get too ahead of ourselves. We agreed to see the houses north of the 3800 block too." chirped Mandy "It is much closer to Jr.'s new school and seems a little less ethnic." she said murmuring the last word on purpose "You know that boy is going to St Marinara's, right honey? We can afford it, and he probably won't have to deal with metal detectors and learning Spanish outside of Spanish class." "Here it is! We stained the patio in July so it should be good until next summer. All the outdoor furniture stays with the house. five foot high picket fence, perfect for dogs." I flew through the features as fast as I could, hoping they would forget about the pool.... "What about the pool?" Dicky Sr. said right on cue "It's an unfinished pool. I got ambitious last summer and began the project, but one setback after another and here she lays, unfinished" I stammered "Can we take the tarp off and have a look?" Dicky said as he walked purposefully towards the cinderblock holding the tarp closest to him "Well...!...uhh.." I fumbled for the right combinations of words to distract the fool, but to no avail. "We could always just fill it in, or maybe a spot for a......" Dicky started, but did not get to finish his sentence when a singular massive gust of wind that seemed to come from the Earth itself blew the rest of the tarp off in a hot red blast of fire and smoke. What seemed like a never ending series of embers gracefully drifted at the mercy of gravity as Mandy stood mouth agape. Her eyes were fixated on the ballet of flames and whirlwinds coming from the menacing pit as she made her way toward her husband as he gasped for breath. Dicky Sr. wasn't a particularly tough man, but getting the wind knocked out of him didn't do him any favors in reversing that narrative. He gasped on his hands and knees with his wife for a concerning amount of time, considering the hole full of fire being a few yards away. "Well, I wasn't expecting that, but I'm glad that it happened." Dicky said loud enough to be heard of the roaring sound of fire. Dicky rose and took a few breaths to get his wind back. His wife in arm, Dicky strolled right up to me completely gathered and calm. The tumultuous pit was not ceasing in its assault on the air within a few feet of its edges. Flames were joined by the sound of nails on chalkboard mixed with what sounded like a Spice Girls song played in ultra slow-motion. I could not believe it was happening again. I knew the nightmares would start this evening and my best shot was to clear my conscious. "I'm so sorry, I should've have hid this from you" I said with the stench of regret in my voice "I'll give you $75 grand for the property" said Dicky stoically "The asking price is $50 thousand more than that" I said tasting regret again "We both know you will give me this house for 75. in fact I can cut you a check you can take to the bank before 5 if you would like." Dicky said, confusing the hell out of me. "Oh it's perfect, I'll go get Dicky Jr." Mandy squealed with glee. I watched the shadows of unholy monstrosities cast upon her back as she walked towards the Suburban they came in. "I...I...I...Sold!?!?!" I said trying to pull myself together "Wonderful!" Dicky Sr. Said as he wrote out the seven figured check, signing it emphatically. Grabbing the check from his hand, I could see how serious his eyes were as they looked upon me. His gaze quickly turned toward his wife who was returning with an odd looking creature. A homely overweight pubescent boy of 15 glued to his 3DS followed his mother closely behind her not even looking up. "This way Jr." Dicky Sr. shouted As quickly as he came to me, he went. Dicky Sr. had swatted the game system out of his hand and began to drag him by the elbow. "Wait, Dad, No!" Jr struggled to free himself. "I thought I did right, I thought I was okay, Why, Dad?" but there was no getting out of a grown mans grip. Dicky Sr. twisted his son's wrist until he was right behind him with a solid hold on his wrist and shoulder. Jr.'s face began to show signs of decay as they got closer to the hole. The pit itself was becoming more chaotic, Wind, flame, and the stench of burning bodies became impossible to ignore for more than a mile. With a hard push and terrified scream, Jr. was no where to be seen. "What did you do to him?" I yelled hysterically "Relax and wait" and within a few seconds of Dicky's cold reply, his words made sense. Sunlight cut through the dark haze of falling embers. A gust of wind was a welcome replacement for the hot damp air that disappeared with the smell of Sulfur. The sky cleared and life in the cozy suburb was once again at peace. "Well, my work is done, lets call some contractors to move some walls around in that basement. I was thinking a pool table would look nice down there" Dicky said as if nothing had transgressed. "I was hoping that we kept that area sectioned off so we could keep more tenants in the house, you know we won't be staying here very often, right Dicky?" Mandy pleaded. "I suppose you are right. The only reason we happened to look in this neighborhood was because we had to get Jr. to school, but I guess thats just some old fashioned serendipity." "But.....Your.... whoo?" I said in an attempt to make relevant words "Oh, don't worry about Jr. He was an innocent" Dicky said dismissively "This isn't our first rodeo. Those holes have been at the past few houses we've purchased. All it takes is an innocent to shut it down, pretty neat huh?" "We've been making a killing flipping homes thanks to my wife's connection at the adoption agency and the amount of "haunted" places that go on the market." "There's no problem we won't throw a child at!" exclaimed Mandy pointing to a t-shirt saying the exact same thing. "HGTV is going to love us!"

  • Stephan Mosciski Reply

    RIP squirrel

  • Omer Luettgen Reply

    Squirrel?

  • Otto Ortiz Reply

    PIEBOWL 2020 AKA BATTLE FOR THE IRON CHEF THRONE -ENTER THE GREAT KEEP KITCHEN- As Ramsay pulls his steak and kidney pie out of the oven and places it on the flour covered counter he looks towards Hot Pie and spews "After all the maesters in Westeros taste my pie they will see I am the true heir to Iron Throne and I'll feed you to my hounds!". Hot Pie tried to ignore the cutting words has he sliced a floral design into the crust of his lamb pie, but his hands shook as he imagined the sound of hounds crunching through fat and bone. He shook the thought out of his head and remembered how lamb pie always used to make him happy ever since the baker he lived with as a child would make it for him when he almost killed myself doing things he shouldn't be doing in the kitchen as a child. Since then Hot Pie mastered his lamb pie so it could make others as happy as it made him. Hot Pie plated his pie and let it cool as he started draining and mashing the potatoes. As he crushed the potatoes into a creamy mash with milk fresh from the castle's cowshed he noticed Ramsey reaching for his chopped parsely. "Oy get your own herbs bastard" Hot Pie said shakily as he slammed his hand on the pile of parsley next to the simmering pot of gravy. The fist slam seemed to shock Ramsay that Hot Pie had the backbone to confront him. "Forgive me Lord Fatty I didn't know you wanted it all you yourslef!" Ramsay hissed as he walked back to his kitchen station. It was almost time to serve and Hot Pie didn't have time to be rattled by Ramsay. He through a fistful of parsley into his gravy, stirred and lifted the spoon up to his mouth to taste. As the thick, brown liquid, filled his mouth and ebbed down his throat Hotpie saw Ramsay smirking out of the corner of his eye. Suddenly his head filled with dread. Something was wrong. There was a tart flavour in the gravy Hotpie didn't recognise. As Hot Pie fell to the cold kitchen stone floor like a large sack of nightsoil he relised he had been poisoned. -FADE TO BLACK- -ENTER A BAKER'S KITCHEN IN KINGS LANDING- Hot pie felt numb and his sight was still adjusting to the bright light when he saw where he was. There was a sound of wheat being ground and the smell of fresh loafs filled his nostrils. When Hot Pie's sight fully adjusted he immediately recognised the kitchen he grew up in. Then suddenly he saw a himself, a boy no older than 5 or 6. He was standing on a stool rolling out dough on a worktop. Suddenly a hooded young boy appeared he was wearing a black cloak and what he could see of his face reminded him of his old friend Ayra Stark. He walked right by Hot Pie as if he didn't see him. The young boy looked at Hot Pie's younger self and said: "HOT PIE YOU NEED TO MAKE A HOT PIE! The sound took Hot Pie's younger self by surprise. He rocked back and forth on the stool trying to catch his balance but it was too late, young Hot Pie fell to stone floor like a small sack of nightsoil. "What did you do?!" shouted Hot Pie at the stranger not knowing if he could hear him. Suddenly the boy turned around "Hot Pie!", he said terrified and relieved at the same time. "Who are you? Why am I hear? How do you know my name?" demanded Hot Pie. The young boy exhaled slowly pulled down his hood "My name is Brandon Stark and I'm hear to save you from Ramsay Bolton so you can bring peace to Westeros". "Don't worry" Hot Pie Interjected "I have it all under control". "No...No you don't" Bran said "He knows who you are... he knows what you've done". A cold shiver ran up Hot Pie's back "He knows what I've done?". "He knows you are Harry Potter. He knows you are The Chosen One. He He knows about the Horcrux. He knows you split your soul with your pie server". Bran let the information sink into Hot Pies massive terrified head before saying "He is going to destroy the pie before you are awake so you can't put your soul back together. That's why I am here. Listen to me carefully..." Suddenly Hot Pie's sight start to fade again. "YOU NEED TO MAKE A HOT PIE! YOU NEED TO MAKE A HOT PIE. HOT PIE. HOT PIE". "Hot pie, Hot Pie, Hot Pie are you ok?". Hot Pie woke in in a pool of sweat and gravy on the kitchen floor with a maester standing over him. He looked up to see Ramsey standing next to the toppled over gravy pot, slyly cupping the Horcrux pie server in his hand and lifting it up so he could slam in on the kitchen counter next to the pie. "WAAAIIIT!" Hot Pie shouted "Don't eat it yet! It's gone cold while I was passed out!". Ramsay looked shocked at first that Hot Pie was awake but then showed his toothfilled evil grin and said "Then heat it up and then I can have the first bite of my worthy opponents dish!". He kept the pie server in his hand to see Hot Pie's reaction and then brought it over to his half of the kitchen. 'Ramsay could still destroy my Horcrux but has chosen not to.' Hot Pie Thought 'He likes the idea of holding my life in his hands'. My only chance now is to win the cook off on merit alone wihch should be easy but if Ramsay was able to poison my Gravy who knows what the bastard has tainted?'. Then Hot Pie realised why Bran had scared him off the stool as a child. Hot pie jumped up and placed his pie in the oven again while he started chopping Dragons's Breath, Fireplum, Firepods and Spiceflower. Hot Pie took his pie out of the oven and made a slight incision in the floral crust so he could funnel his new ingredients in. Hot Pie knew this pie wasn't hot enough to kill a man and most of these spices would be devoured daily by people in Essos. "Any time before winter!" shouted Ramsay jollilly. Ramsay eyes filled with happiness as he saw Hot Pie's pie was ready and ran over to be the first to taste it. "He cut off a large slice with Hot Pie's horcrux before Hot Pie could cut it himself. Before he wrapped his mouth around the huge piece of pie he looked into Hot Pie's eyes and whistered "After this the only thing you'll be feeding is my dogs". Just then as Ramsay's mouth closed over the dagger shapped slice his eyes lit up. He looked as if the skin on his face was going to start to boil and fall off. Hot Pie felt he could finally relax until he saw Ramsay swallow the gigantic slice in one gulp. Ramsay looked Hot Pie dead in the eyes his face still tomato red and sweating, he never looked more like a demon as he did now, "You think a little spice is going to hurt me? Ramsay Bolton? King of the Seven Kingdoms and...". Just then Ramsay grabbed his chest, he fell to his knees and both his hands wringed his throat like he was trying to choke himself. "Hot....Hot....Hot..." Ramsay wheezed out sounding like an injured frog. As Ramsay opened his mouth to scream and clear his throat, Hot Pie could see the meat from pie was caught in the back of his mouth. It was like it was moving at it's own accord trying to build a dam that blocked his throat. It was almost as if someone was warging the lamb. As Ramsay collapsed to his hands and feet he never took his eyes off Hot Pie as he tryid to cough up the spicy chunks of lamb and his last words. "Hot....hot....hot...pie".

  • Cathrine Jerde Reply

    I'm on a tight budget man

  • Hannah Macejkovic Reply

    Blood. Such a strange thing. Hemoglobin, the active compound in the blood of most animals is a bright red when it carries oxygen but a dark red when not carrying oxygen. It can also be made red/blue and red/brown under certain circumstances. Other animals change the colour of their blood, dying it green this however generally makes it toxic. Hemocyanin the active compound in the likes of certain crustacean actually alternates between dark blue and white with respect to carrying oxygen and not. Cholroruorin the active compound in annelid worms big enough to need blood is green when it is diluted. Moreover few exotic creatures feature Hemerythrin and Hemovanadin blood. Which are a violet pink and a mustard yellow. As a vampire this is all common knowledge. In this day and age we have far progressed out of drinking the blood from the necks of humans. These different types of blood are the spice of life as it were. All these types of blood whilst doing the same thing their composition can be significantly different between one and the other. Vampires. The most common name of my kind in the current day. One of the many species who live of the life essence of others. Throughout history Vampires themselves have held many names. However there are a few similar related species. The extended family includes the likes of succubi and incubi (we don’t really talk about them but they’re the ones people are most likely to know about). Vetalas is another although much more obscure as is the manananggal. And a handful more scattered around. However Vampires are the single biggest type and coincidently the most well known. Each species has its own, most efficient way of drawing out this life essence and for vampires that would be through blood. This would rein true for all vampires. All vampires accept me. Hello. I guess the introductions a little late but I’m a little different. I’ve held many names across the millennia. For all intents and purposes let’s say my names Steve. Not that you’ll need it. So I’m Steve and I’m a vampire. Kinda. There’s a slight problem with me. I’m actually allergic to blood. All the types. I suppose if we’re being properly technical about what’s wrong with me it’s not that I’m properly allergic to blood. But rather that I just have too much of it myself of my own. I have no space for more within my system. Not from overeating or anything like that. No. I’m just not stupid. I don’t go out during the day. I’ve never been caught by vampire hunters. I don’t get involved with religion. So slowly over time the life essence has just built up inside me. Eventually this build up just became self-sustaining. I somehow started creating my own blood within me. I don’t know how. It just happened. As such I have no need to take blood supplements. Or it may be better to say that if I did its highly likely that I’d pop. When I have taken small amounts in the past I’ve had explosive nose bleeds, cried tears and basically every orifice that could bleed did and did so badly. So there are these diners. The species that have pink and yellow blood aren’t easily available. I know at least one of them is a deep sea dweller. By deep I mean no sun deep. At these vampire clubs those that are vampires meet up with other vampires and try such delicacies. I was meeting up with an old friend of mine. Darren let’s say. Now Darren was always a sharer. Back in our young days I swear anyone who Darren drank would be brought back and we would all take turns until they were dry. Dark times. I’ve changed since then. As has he. But he was always a sharer and that aspect of him would never change. So Darren being Darren got me a selection of dishes. I was ready though. Red, puréed tomatoes a trick I had used for decades now. White was covered by mayonnaise. Green was some concoction of vegetables blended together. Even yellow was easily covered by mustard. But blue and pink were issues I could never quite get right. So I always avoided getting these two. Darren however insisted that I get one and today he wasn’t backing down. So while I wasn’t paying attention slipped me some. Now the amount was small that with my desensitised taste I couldn’t detect the small amount he had added as a sort of seasoning. “Steve?” I looked up. Darren’s face was one of concern however in his eyes I saw this slight animalistic glint. I rose my napkin to my mouth to wipe it off before speaking. Noticing something I looked down at the napkin. Then proceeded to rise my hand to my lip. It was red. Blood? I looked around wide eyed. The slight bleeding of my gums had drawn the attention of every customer in the room. They may all have their own servings of blood before them however there was something particularly potent about the smell of fresh blood. A sense that vampires had that put that of sharks to shame. “Excuse me.” I stood up and made my way to the bathroom, covering my mouth with the napkin as I did so. By the time I reached the bathroom the crimson was blooming through the napkin and my mouth had more blood in it than spit. When I reached the toilet itself I was physically coughing up blood. When the worst of it was over and I had regained the ability to breathe through my mouth there was a voice behind me. “Excuse me sir.” Glancing behind me with a mouth that looked as if I had drunk directly from the source I saw the man behind me. He was an artificial. A Frankenstein’s monster I believe was the name for this particular type of artificial. They were on the 34th generation now if memory serves me right. They may not look the most impressive but that’s how their made. No one would look twice. No one would expect that it could break any and all the bones in your body with next to effort. “I am afraid that I am going to have to ask you to leave.” “That’s understandable.” I stood up, the bleeding no longer that proficient any longer, and went to walk by it. “May I suggest that you find another way out of here?” “You’re suggesting I go through the window.” “Yes. And the owner has asked me to tell you that you are no longer welcome in this establishment.” The artificial may be kicking me out but was doing so in the most polite of manners knowing that while it could break my bones if given time I would be able to rip its whole body apart in the time it took it to break one of my arms. “I expected as much.” “Thank you for your understanding kind sir.” The monster was an artificial. Disposable. However was genuinely grateful that any rage, if indeed I had any, wouldn’t be taken out on it. I turned around in the cubical to look at the window above the toilet. I was never one for the bat transformation. “Sorry for the mess.” I stretched my arms as I tested skills I hadn’t used in centuries. Flying out the window you say.

  • Oswaldo Altenwerth Reply

    The Five sun amulet, made of brushed iron and hung on a leather band, is a circle on which 5 smaller circles are welded on the lower edge. The big circle represents the White World, the five smaller circles the Five Suns, mirror images of the five moons of the Black World, the living World. You wonder why these names, but a simple look in the sky reminds you. It is night and in the sky the Cosmic Gods juggle with their stars, and Tlöfan dances around them, leaving a trail of soft, white mist in the night sky. It is said that in the White World, there are no stars, no Cosmic Gods and no Stardancer, so the night sky as well as the day sky is white and the suns shining there are black, giving shadow, contrast and form to a world of the dead. From your time in the military you know, the fastest and safest way to any place in the eastern continents is to join a caravan. You decide to find one the next day and use the kind offer of the Washers to rest in one of their guest houses. You don't sleep as an Undead, but you must rest, sort your mind and let some sort of dream happen, less you succumb to madness. The Jurn call it "Quesana", and due to Sejele, the Jurn language, being so popular, it kind of found its way into your vocabulary as well. If translated, it would mean "the Neverdream", but this word is hollow in Rörlappla, or Nurnok, the two languages you speak fluently. Quesana is a sacred word, or unholy rather. Within it you can find the sadness and tragedy that is to never dream, for it cuts you off from the caring, and strong hands of Irin, the Goddess of Dreams and Hope. The next day comes with bright sunshine and the cold breeze of nearing winter in Loter. Some lonely snowflakes fall, but the sky is almost cloudless. You go to the market. It is a loud, colorful place and you walk carefully for your kind is not liked in such places. (*Rolled 16 on the D20*) You gather a few ugly looks, but none of the guards or merchants take enough offense to your presence to remove you, so you start to ask for caravans leaving towards either Zurelysis or at least Orias Nest. The search takes you a while, but you can't really be too annoyed by that, since the market is as entertaining as ever. You see a explosion of colors in the center of the plaza. Its a group of Schee-Harpies, doing their play and their tricks. They juggle, they spit fire from their mouths and one particular colorfully feathered one takes great delight in dazzling her audience with illusion magic and sleight of hand. You also see the odd form of a Beyfut next to their wagons. The "Joke of the Gods" as this species was called, was obviously a street-healer and herbologist. Poor folk gathered around him. For just a few coins the horned, purple-skinned, yellow-eyed, red-haired, satyr-bodied and bushy-tailed man (at least you guess its a man), gives out remedies for colds and common diseases. Also the one or two badly healed bones are re-broken and grown by magic. After a while you continue your search. You come past a stand that is cleaning up and packing its remaining wares in crates and baskets. For what you can see its colorful spices and somewhat rare dried fruit as well as different kinds of salt. You ask the human merchant if he is leaving. He is a rather fat man, with somewhat cheap silk covering his body and a huge fur-cloak around his shoulders. "Thats right, plagueboil. What business is is of you?" You tell him that you're a capable soldier and could probably provide some good guard for the merchant, for the small price of taking you to Zurelysis. The merchant strokes his chin, the three days old beard making a scratching noise as his fat fingers stroke through it. "Come back at sundown. We leave from here after I finished my final business." You nod and decide to wait the day out roaming the streets of Lichthaven. For someone like you who has seen Likafa and Kroskafa, the city seems like a village. The tallest building is the Loom, the Temple of Mihril, but it would barely touch the top of a Shadow District apartment building in Likafa. However, it is also a village in the way that people know each other here, are more friendly with each other and your kind is only looked down upon, and not actively hunted by some fanatic groups. The day goes by and you once again curse the day your sense of taste was gone, but not your smell. The evening brought out the streetcooks and delicious meats and sweets were cooked on kitchen-wagons around the plaza. Some caravans were assembled there and you quickly make out the merchant that offered to hire you. There was already a group of armed men around his wagon. Some Jurn, some Nurn and most of them in ragged SEAS uniforms. You rearrange your rifle on your shoulder, and make the Five Times Crossed Sphere, the symbol of the SEAS, shine in its bronzen glory. Before you reach the group though, colorful feathers come into your sight and a huge grin was right in your face. You stop and step back, to see the Scheeharpy standing in front of you. "Are yo' al-eady in a'caravan, pal-e one?" she asks in thick Sejele accent. You answer her that the merchant with the spices has offered to hire you and take you to Zurelysis. You also ask her if she is part of the showmen you have seen earlier today. "Ay, me nam' be Aalaja sa ma Sente Weadini, and I am be the fire-spitta of the group. I canno' give you coins, bu' we t-oo are on us way to Zu'e-ly'sis. Da Spiceman ha enough weapon men? Join us?" From afar you see the spice merchant wave to you and some impatient looks of the other soldiers, while right in your face is the pleading grin of Aalaja. *Your choice*

  • Collin Cummings Reply

    good gopro ad tho

  • Gavin Heller Reply

    super bowl confetti

  • Gilda Kling Reply

    They won a super bowl so....

  • Heloise Marquardt Reply

    I've traveled to most places in our galaxy and I've seen the good, the bad, and the ugly. Although we are all of the same species, each planet propagate's different forms of government based off a variety of factors. Cultural norms, physical environment, hardships endured and an array of immeasurable contributions. Variety is the spice of life they say, but tomorrow's journey to the outer most planet of our Solar System, Agricola, may define how I truly feel about that saying. Let's just say the planet has a reputation that would make a serial killer shutter. As i begin to descend into Agricola and land marks become visible, I see a vivid reminded that where I am going is not somewhere I need to be long. Make shift tents supported by rotting wood dot the "city" where I am about to land. As i continue down, I see the attire these people wear. They are a simple farming civilization and there clothes can testify. They have used a variety of vegetable leaves, stems, and certain husk to dress themselves in. Can they truly be this poor? We finally land and immediately, the smell overtakes the cabin. The smell singes my nostril and my stomach grows weak. Rotten vegetables piled up high all around us as we walk through the village. The people smell like they haven't bathed or eaten in months. As I continue to follow or GeoMap, I see something that could horrify the hardest of men... There are dead children lined up through the alley walk, most likely dead due to disease. This place is truly the hell of our galaxy. I speed up and continue walking towards the government house. When I reach it, it lives up to my lackluster expectation and fits right in with it's environment. On my planet, we would describe it was a run down cabin, but apparently this is the gold standard for Agricola. I walk up some broken stairs, stained with liquids that derive from a multitude of sources that I don't need to investigate. "Welcome, Mr. Inspector" he yells down at me in his chair, smiling with one of his front teeth missing. "Good day sir, I'll be very brief and to the point." I say attempting to set the tone for a quick meeting. "Ah, I see. You dislike our little planet? You pass judgment because of what we lack? Oh my good man, don't be so quick to judge!", he says with a mischievous smile. "N-- No, I'm not judging! I just have a very heavy work load and I need to be out of here in a timely manner" I rush out the words, trying not to offend. I am a man of all people and I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. "Ah, busy worker man, huh? Well then, let me get straight to the point. Let me show you what Agricola is about, then I'll let you leave.", his face is not smiling anymore but he appears to speak differently now. Confidence and bravado fills his voice and he gives an aura of pure confidence. It's intimidating because it came from no where and it chills me to the bone. He stands up out of his raggedy old chair, it creaks louder than my old grandpa's rocking bench. He walks over to a small painting of his planet on the wall and touches the top of it. The he mumbles something. "... and they will all bow." All of a sudden, the painting hinges down towards the ground, only hanging by what was the bottom. Behind it, a beautiful glowing button illuminates the whole room, it's colors changing faster than I can keep track. "Ok Mr. Inspector. Hold on to your marbles!" he says with his biggest smile yet. He gently pushes the button with his index finger. I brace myself while closing my eyes, my body tightening as if I am about to take a punch. I wait a few seconds expecting something to happen but nothing does. "Is this a joke" I say with frustration. I don't like being scared. "No, my goodman. Take a look outside. Let me show OUR Agricola." I walk to the front door and open it up, my heart is racing faster than it should be. Why am I frightened? I began to push it gently, as if I am trying not to wake anybody. My eye's widen as I see what this old man has in store for me. Somehow, we've teleported... or maybe we flew? My mind is trying to grasp the situation that I somehow managed to get in. We are in the middle of a busy intersection in a city that's more grand than anything I've ever seen. Hover crafts zoom by me, children play in the air, levitating somehow. The skyscrapers that now tower over us extend all the way to space, shooting through the atmosphere and staggered the landscape like stalagmites. The old man is now standing right next to me. I look over at him, my eyes reaching for an explanation with my voice soon to follow. But it's not a "him" anymore... The most beautiful women I've ever laid eyes on is now smiling at me, her green eyes radiate like an imploding star. She almost looks fake, as if no organism could be made so perfectly. "You see Mr. Inspector, this is Agricola. We are the outcast, We are the judged. We keep it this way so we can rule under secrecy and without distraction. This is the planet of Gods. Now, since you are here, you cannot leave." She's glowing but her face is very serious. "I'll give you five minutes to take this in, then we begin. Don't try to communicate with anyone because it won't work." Her eyes piercing through me, her gaze is almost unbearable She walks away towards the back of the room and sits quietly. I stand in disbelief. This is Agricola? If this is truly the planet of Gods, then why am I here? So much for my heavy workload...

  • Nash O'Keefe Reply

    By far, Old Spices [The man your man can smell like](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=owGykVbfgUE) I remember seeing it before a movie when it first came out in 2010. The entire theatre was laughing. I think old spice gone a little overboard with the "weird random" humour since, but I will always enjoy that commercial.

  • Cleveland McCullough Reply

    "Didn't like the new deodorant from Axe, John?" Marissa quipped. "Nope, it wears out in a few minutes, smells horrible and women *do not* cling to you." "Haha, so what're you using now?" And before I knew it, a tiny circuit implanted in my brain became active. It worked like a transistor from hell. I screamed, "OOOO-Old Spice body spray makes you smell like POWAHHH!" She was bewildered. I looked around to see the entire office looking my way. Mike shouted from the other end, "You on a horse?" "I'm sorry." I uttered and without another word, quickly stepped out of the office. Marissa followed me. "What was that?" "Well," I began. "Remember a couple of weeks ago I was strapped for cash?" She nodded. "While I was browsing the internet, I came across a company - MaxAD. They were looking for beta testers for their product. They offered to pay me twenty-thousand dollars upfront and 20% from the proceeds of advertisement of products. Now, I was desperate, but I regret not having read the fifty page contract. Now anytime a company that is registered with their "program" comes up, all I manage to blabber is an advertisement for their product. I've become an experiment! Each day more companies register themselves. Heck I can't even order a big mac at Mcdonald's - だけ¥150のためビッグマック。アイムラヴィンそれ!... I'm in the US dammit!" Seeing that I was visibly annoyed, Marissa offered me a few kind words and returned to her cubicle. I sighed dejectedly. I need the cash but it's becoming increasingly difficult for me to make a conversation without embarrassing myself. After a few moments, I decided to go shopping for supplies. When I reached the parking lot I saw a man beckon to me, I started towards him when he shouted, "Hey! Is the Civic yours?" "Let's Start Something Special!" "Woah! Hey man, I was just gonna say it's punctured." "Punctured!" i resigned myself to this terrible fate walked to the mall, two whole kilometers away. I made my way over to the entrance of Walmart. After a few minutes in the groceries section I headed over to the toiletries. Now, I'm sure someone found this funny, but there was a curious lack of toilet paper. I asked the "cheerful" attendant standing nearby. "Certainly sir, I'll restock them." But as the attendant turned away from me, I yelled, "Hey!" He spun around. And with a very regal tone, I began "It should be authentic, bespoke, artistically crafted toilet paper. Hand pulped and hand perforated - The Quilted Northern." After that, sniggering followed me till I reached the queue. When I was prompted to pay, the female cashier asked, "Sir, would you be interested in filling out a questionnaire from the CMPB?" I looked slyly at the lady, raised an eyebrow and spoke very eloquently, “Got milk?” “Excuse me?” Five minutes later I walked out of the store, more ashamed than annoyed. I hailed a cab home. Exhausted and despondent I grabbed a Bud - Budweiser presents Real Men of Genius...NO! Without a second thought, I flung the beer at the table lamp narrowly missing my wife who was seated beside it. "Woah! Hey, are you alright?" Jenny asked. "This was the worst day. I COULD NOT HOLD a single normal conversation. This chip is ruining my life! Whether it's asking somebody to Google it - Don't be evil!” I winked and wiggled my finger at her. “Or even buying a damn chocolate. You don't buy a Bournville, you earn one." “Aw honey, forget about it. How about I make your day better, hm?” Curiously, the fact that she was wearing that Nike shirt did help.

  • Vivienne Dietrich Reply

    Man smell smells fantastic yet bewildering on me. I get a lot of "you smell great!!!! What is that?!". Old spice. I also like EveryMan Jacks Cedar body wash.

  • Claudia Hermann Reply

    Fart Squirrel

  • Patience Rolfson Reply

    Manta Man is a Low-Budget Aquaman

  • Milan Maggio Reply

    "I heard the pizza delivery drone crashed in your back yard maam, im the pizza delivery drone repair man"

  • Keven Bayer Reply

    Squirrel

  • Germaine O'Conner Reply

    squirrel girl

  • Ubaldo Paucek Reply

    Stone Cold in the Longest Yard was better. "That's how a white man runs the football"

  • Clara Bergnaum Reply

    Tecmo Super Bowl

  • Zachary Treutel Reply

    > She kicked the can. He watched it bounce off the wall. It rolled under the dumpster. He looked at her. Her eyes met his. She glared at him. He huffed and walked away. Tee hee hee. This is how the rhythm of that played in my head:   *Hello, ladies, look at your man, now back to me, now back at your man, now back to me. Sadly, he isn’t me, but if he stopped using ladies scented body wash and switched to Old Spice, he could smell like he’s me. Look down, back up, where are you? You’re on a boat with the man your man could smell like. What’s in your hand, back at me. I have it, it’s an oyster with two tickets to that thing you love. Look again, the tickets are now diamonds. Anything is possible when your man smells like Old Spice and not a lady. I’m on a horse.*

  • Dorthy Okuneva Reply

    Tecmo Super Bowl for NES

  • Josiane Feeney Reply

    Squirrel Girl

  • Jenifer Macejkovic Reply

    No squirrel girl please.

  • Vernie Kuhic Reply

    Found the crochety old man yelling at kids in his yard!

  • Joel Mayer Reply

    We're winning the Super Bowl!!

  • Marcellus Dare Reply

    Squirrel Girl.

  • Flavie McCullough Reply

    Old spice still had a core idea 'Smell like the man you want to be'. The tone was super cocky so all the random executions parodied and magnified 'smooth' scenarios from old movies with a bit of absurdity thrown in. That's why it was so funny. I have no idea what the message of OP's ad is and how it ties into the random executions here.

  • Marion Rodriguez Reply

    Hello ladies. Look at your man. Now back to me. Now back at your man, now BACK to me. Sadly, he isn't be. But if he stopped using that lady-scented body wash and switched to old spice, he could SMELL like he's me. Look down. Back up. Where are you? You're on a boat with that man your man can smell like. Whats in your hand? Back to me. I have it! It's an oyster, with two tickets to that thing you love. Look again! The tickets are now DIAMONDS! Anything is possible when your man smells like Old Spice and not a lady. I'm on a horse. I've had this memorized since I was a freshman in high school when it came out.

  • Lincoln Aufderhar Reply

    YOU'RE TALKING SUPER BOWL

  • Joshuah Marvin Reply

    Someone get this man a budget

  • Litzy Waters Reply

    Hello, M’ladies, look at your man, now back to me, now back at your man, now back to me. Thankfully, he isn’t me, but if he stopped using men’s scented body wash and switched to Nice Guys’, he could smell like he’s me. Look down, back up, where are you? You’re in a basement with a manchild your man never smells like. What’s in your hand, back at me. I have it, it’s a Mountain Dew with two tickets to a shitty movie. Look again, the tickets are now Cheetos. Nothing good is possible when your man smells like Nice Guys’ and not a man. I’ve got no friends. *off-key Old Spice chime*

  • Kristopher Wolff Reply

    Old spice sport is my jam. Smell like a homeless man after a long hike but you still want subway; boom OS sport

  • Adrianna Beier Reply

    1.Nike: Just Do It. 2.Absolut Vodka: The Absolut Bottle 3.Miller Lite: Great Taste, Less Filling 4.Volkswagen: Think Small 5.Marlboro: Marlboro Man 6.California Milk Processor Board: Got Milk? 7.Dove: Real Beauty 8.Apple: Get a Mac 9.Clairol: Does She or Doesn’t She? 10.De Beers: A Diamond is Forever 11.Old Spice: The Man Your Man Could Smell Like 12.Wendy’s: Where’s the Beef?

  • Karli Buckridge Reply

    SQUIRREL!!

  • Dustin Russel Reply

    Man, does saffron olive just take good budget deck ideas and make them shit?

  • Leola Sauer Reply

    First, damn you for making me laugh that hard lol, second, TV budget, man.

  • Alexandria Swaniawski Reply

    *Squirrel!*

  • Vincenzo Haag Reply

    There was a smell my dad called "the smell of a man". It didn't smell like old spice.

  • Orpha Hagenes Reply

    What a dark GoPro ad

  • Karianne Kovacek Reply

    SQUIRREL!

  • Ida Kerluke Reply

    Jerking off to a squirrel

  • Nestor Dickinson Reply

    Squirrel Girl.

  • Annette Harber Reply

    Another gopro viral ad.

  • Minnie Jakubowski Reply

    im a petite teenage girl and i use old spice because i like man smell

  • Karina Thiel Reply

    Squirrel

  • Dedric Bashirian Reply

    Super bowl winners

  • Mertie Jerde Reply

    Nice try old man that's angry about kids in his yard.

  • Thomas Schaden Reply

    Did I just watch a gopro ad?

  • Concepcion Bruen Reply

    Gotta cut costs. Budget cuts, man.

  • Candida Dare Reply

    Man Ray really looks like budget Iron Man there.

  • Karen Ebert Reply

    Squirrel piss

  • Damien Hoppe Reply

    When I was growing up, my grandpa used Old Spice deodorant spray. I thought it smelled gross, and like the stereotypical old man smell. Fast forward a few decades, and Old Spice is now a young manly-man's product, with me using their deodorant and body wash as my go-tos.

  • Merritt Labadie Reply

    Fuck you man, you've got more variety in your back yard than I do in my whole city :(

  • Blanca Dach Reply

    Super Bowl V.

  • Eleanora Keebler Reply

    Today in "Old Man Bill yells at an animal in his yard."

  • Junius Baumbach Reply

    Honestly, I use Old Spice deodorant (it's a gel based, blue stick and I picked something citrus smelling so you don't smell like a man). It doesn't clump, smells good, and is actually cheaper than women's deodorant anyways :)

  • Hazel Mueller Reply

    I'm a huge fan of Old Spice Timber. Fresh lumberjack. Gold Bond or Tinactin foot spray. I was given a can of each from different people when I turned 11/12. No T required, puberty made me smell like a man.

  • Zena Casper Reply

    Hello, M’ladies, look at your man, now back to me, now back at your man, now back to me. Thankfully, he isn’t me, but if he stopped using men’s scented body wash and switched to Nice Guys’, he could smell like he’s me. Look down, back up, where are you? You’re in a basement with a manchild your man never smells like. What’s in your hand, back at me. I have it, it’s a Mountain Dew with two tickets to a shitty movie. Look again, the tickets are now Cheetos. Nothing good is possible when your man smells like Nice Guys’ and not a man. I’ve got no friends. *off-key Old Spice chime*

  • Valentine Mante Reply

    Superb Owl or Super Bowl?

  • Tremayne Bahringer Reply

    Squirrel

  • Maryse Windler Reply

    NOT SQUIRREL!

  • Ocie Schumm Reply

    > There was a girl in the yard That's a man, baby.

  • Ted Johns Reply

    Hello, ladies, look at your man, now back to me, now back at your man, now back to me. Sadly, he isn’t me, but if he stopped using ladies scented body wash and switched to Old Spice, he could smell like he’s me. Look down, back up, where are you? You’re on a boat with the man your man could smell like. What’s in your hand, back at me. I have it, it’s an oyster with two tickets to that thing you love. Look again, the tickets are now diamonds. Anything is possible when your man smells like Old Spice and not a lady. I’m on a horse.

  • Rahul DuBuque Reply

    No Super Tecmo Bowl? WTF

  • Florian Hamill Reply

    Is this from a GoPro ad?

  • Kaden Green Reply

    It can if you want it to be. I'll be honest I've turned a few things into jelly form. does that mean I'm obsessed, yes. But I wanna smell like man sometimes and old spice doesn't come in jelly form. 😜

  • Uriel Volkman Reply

    Definitely Old Spice. Smell like a MAN!

  • D'angelo Abshire Reply

    Old Spice - the man your man could smell like. Everyone was imitating those commercials for a couple years, and I heard their online followers increased by about 3000 percent.

  • Kaden O'Keefe Reply

    Don't forget she got to see Papi go yard, very special in its own right. Congrats man, keep her a Sox fan!

  • Camden Crist Reply

    Years ago I was in the yard and this man came down the road with a zebra and his little girl riding it.