Joe Plicka and Ryan Shoemaker
Old Spice Wood
- Old Spice Wood is, actually, just that. Wood. Like, that’s all it is: a piece of dried hickory cut into that familiar Old Spice shape.
- Just use a match or a lighter to “activate” the tip and apply that pure hickory smell—no chemicals and no fillers, just the gentle reminder of smoked meats and backyard fire pits. Does it hurt? Yeah, kind of. But you can handle it, you brawny, self-reliant SOB.
- Old Spice Wood is part of our Simply Pure Essentials Collection, along with Old Spice Fish Guts and Old Spice Motor Oil.
Old Spice Ivy League Frat Dude
- Old Spice Ivy League Frat Dude will overpower any nervous stink as you blow off your $55,000-a-year tuition the semester you pledge for Sigma Chi. Because why care about Applied Business Statistics and Race and Gender in America when the frat president’s lacrosse cleats need a good spit shine?
- Old Spice Ivy League Frat Dude smells like polished mahogany, fine Kentucky bourbon, and old money. Yes, literally old money! Its patented formula contains microfragments of decommissioned Benjamins. So when some drunk chick cozies up to you at Sigma Chi’s annual Cinco de Drinko kegger, you can say, “You smell me, babe? That’s money. Old money.”
- Each stick comes with three Magnum XL Condoms and a Get Out of Jail Free card, good in forty-eight states—because you never know what a wild weekend may hold;)
Old Spice Porno
- Socially acceptable pornography is here, finally! Don’t let those shrieking feminists mess with your head—is it “exploitation,” is it “empowerment”—who cares as long as it opens its legs, am I right? Our Special Edition Extra Long stick will poke, prod, and penetrate bad smells wherever you find them.
- Old Spice Porno smells musky, husky, and vaguely like bleach. Whether you’re on the prowl, on camera, or on an innocent and probably uneventful trip to that back-alley massage parlor (wink-wink!), Old Spice Porno is the proverbial banana in your pocket.
- Each Stick has one of your favorite adult entertainment stars featured on the label, so collect all sixty-nine!
Old Spice American Tourist
- Whether you’re haggling over a bottle of Don Julio Tequila in a sweaty Mazatlan market or enduring a three-hour group tour of the Acropolis by some chichi Euro wuss named Nico, Old Spice American Tourist will keep you connected to the Good Ol’ U.S. of A.
- Old Spice American Tourist mingles a mouth-watering smorgasbord of distinctly American aromas—T-bones on the grill, buttery Idaho spuds, oozing Velveeta cheese, and Milwaukee’s Best—with the rich sulfuric tang of fireworks on a warm 4th of July evening.
- One whiff of Old Spice American Tourist will give you the balls to be as loud and obnoxious as you want while touring the Louvre in your favorite Dallas Cowboys shorts and that Don’t Tread on America T-shirt your best friend Boone gave you for your 40th birthday. So go ahead, big man, drawl your native tongue with pride to those French bastards, because English is the language Jesus spoke.
Old Spice Biker Bar with Leather
- Old Spice Biker Bar with Leather is made with authentic Harley Davidson leather products, and definitely not the kind of leather that homos use for their weird sex stuff.
- Biker Bar with Leather smells like cheap whiskey, grimy pool table, and will confirm for anyone nearby—even yourself!—that you’re straight as hell, even though all your closest emotional relationships are with other men.
- Whether your homophobia is institutionalized, socialized, or internalized, Biker Bar with Leather has you covered in manfulness.
Old Spice Tough Logger
- With four dozen flapjacks and a half-gallon of maple syrup in your belly, you’ll exude that just-out-of-the-shower freshness as you clear-cut a mountainside of old-growth redwood. Sawdust in your burly beard, sweat glistening on your hammered biceps, man, you make deforestation look good!
- With its fragrant bouquet of cedar, rotting undergrowth, and bar and chain oil, Old Spice Tough Logger glides on light and soft, as light and soft as the feathery down of those pesky Spotted Owls all the nutty environmentalists are barking about.
- Had Paul Bunyan been a gay dude (and there’s no way he was!), he’d have been all over your tight logger ass.
Old Spice Rogue Pitbull
- Old Spice Rogue Pitbull is man’s best friend. And you’re that man, jacked on meth and rocking your corduroy house slippers as you torch the trailer park where your ex is living with some pig-eyed sanitation worker named Darrell.
- Rogue Pitbull smells like tattoo ink, discounted ribeye, and absolutely screams carelessness and zero accountability.
- So, break your rusty chain, Big Dog, and watch people back away when they see the Rogue Pitbull in your eyes.
Old Spice Hollywood Producer
- Dude, let’s be honest: your face is as pitted and grooved as the battered sole of a work boot, but Old Spice Hollywood Producer will be your daily shot of confidence, whispering in your ear, “Man, all these actress chicks dig you!” And why do they totally dig you, you ugly brute? Because you hold their purse strings in your sweaty, fat fingers.
- Developed in a secret Swiss lab from a chemical compound invented by Adolf Hitler’s personal physician, Ludwig Stumpfegger, Old Spice Hollywood Producer wields its heady power from a potent blend of grizzly bear semen, musk from the anal glands of randy tomcats, and Blindthyamine, a powerful hallucinogenic that will render any hot chick within a fifteen-foot radius of your armpits utterly and completely weak in the knees.
- So get to work, you swollen sadist. Stuff your lardy ass into that $10,000 Brioni suit (or don’t wear any pants at all) and remember that you’re the Cock-of-the-Walk Sheriff of Tinseltown, whether you’re clamping some mouthy director in a steely headlock or strutting your stuff in a gapping terrycloth bathrobe for some foxy up-and-coming starlet.
Old Spice Sovereignty with Gunpowder
- Whether you go by General, CEO, Supreme Leader, or just good old Dad—Old Spice Sovereignty with Gunpowder will dominate the nostrils of all who dare enter your territory.
- Old Spice Sovereignty with Gunpowder smells like sulfur and steel, with hints of rare minerals and precious metals—perfect for the blazing battlefield, the shady backroom, or your ten-minute dinner table hissy fit about not drinking apple juice on the leather sofa.
- Complex and versatile for any geopolitical, corporate, or domestic situation where you need to assert your God-given authority to keep those women, children, ignorant peasants, and uppity immigrants under your thumb!
Joe Plicka’s work has appeared most recently in Booth and Hobart. He lives and teaches in Hawaii with his family and a red-vented bulbul. Follow him on Twitter at @joebongo.
Ryan Shoemaker’s debut story collection, Beyond the Lights, is available through No Record Press. T.C. Boyle called it a collection that “moves effortlessly from brilliant comedic pieces to stories of deep emotional resonance.” He is an Assistant Professor at Southern Utah University. Find him at RyanShoemaker.net.
