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Chad Love: Scent of Love
As a mostly incompetent hunter, I've never had qualms about applying any manner of vile, foul-smelling liquid on my person or clothing in the vain hopes said liquid would increase my odds of shooting a deer.
If someone claimed that secretions collected from the pre-hormonal glands of the Mongolian Cud-Spitting Yak simply drove rutting bucks crazy, I'd have one hand over my mouth trying to hold down breakfast while the other spritzed warm yak musk all over my body.
But as strange as the hunter's penchant for bad-smelling stuff is, at least it has a purpose, and even the most die-hard hunter doesn't use said scents recreationally simply because some smells are best avoided in mixed company. You know, things like estrous doe, fox pee, the scent of a greasy fast-food hamburger turning to carbon under a thermonuclear heat lamp
Huh? From the story:
Burger King is hoping to be known as more than “The Home of the Whopper.” This weekend, the fast food chain rolled out “Flame,” a new men’s body spray billed as “the scent of seduction with a hint of flame-broiled meat.”
That's right: a hamburger-scented cologne for men. Because nothing screams manly, virile seduction like the tantalizing scent of a flame-broiled Whopper. At least that's the underlying message of Burger King's extremely funny online ad for "Flame" which can be found here. Keep clicking the spray bottle for further campy poses by the creepy Burger King dude.
Now I'm all for anything that celebrates blatant carnivorism, and I'd love to see PETA's apoplectic reaction, but come on: I've been inside a Burger King and while the amalgam of scent that assaults your nose may not be quite as revolting as the aforementioned love sweat of the Mongolian Cud-Spitting Yak, it certainly doesn't conjure up images of sweet lovin' on a plush rug in front of a roaring fire. To me it has a more robust "where can we eat for three bucks and get the hell back on the road?" boutique to it.
So the question is: would you rather smell like a hamburger prepared by a sullen minimum-wage teenager with a penchant for luggies or the liquid waste products of various and sundry wild animals? I'm up in the air on this one...