This Ad...I Just...

I rarely look at the grocery ads in the Sunday paper.  Occasionally if I get sucked up into marathon-watching Extreme Couponing and feel nudged with guilt about all the "free money" I toss out every week, I'll open up the old Proctor and Gamble insert.  This morning before church, I casually picked up the insert and never made it past the first page.  Immediately, I showed it to Alan and said, "That's just creepy."  Check out the Old Spice ad below.

Mr. Old Spice creeped me out in about 247 ways.  Seriously, don't advertising agencies use focus groups or something?  Did no one look at this picture and say any of the following?:

• "Er...uh...It kinda makes my head itch."  
• "Creepy.  No, really, man...it's creepy."  
• "I don't get it." 
• "For the hair that gets...results?  Results.  Hmm.  Definition, please."

I couldn't even figure out what most of the Lilliputians gallivanting on his wavy brown locks are doing.  So, I went and fetched my big old lighted magnifier.  Run get yours, and let's take a litte look-see.

Ummmm.  Unless I'm mistaken, it looks like Mr. Old Spice KO'ed the Abominable Snowman right there on the crest of the front wave.  Take a look at this guy, and tell me they're not the same...uh...monsters.  No wonder the naked girl - wearing a Hawaiian lei - is kneeling in reverence of this heroic feat. 

Does Mr. Old Spice hear little voices on his head?  "Hey, guys, look!  It's a bear on skis!"  "Come my little prickly pear, let me scoop you up with this tiny dump truck!"  "Hold on, Beautiful Lady in the Red Dress!  I've got you!  I won't let you fall onto those giant shoulders like a bunch of flaky dandruff!"

Then, there are those chicks that are repelling down his face.  Repelling.  Down his face.  The one on the left near his attached earlobe is painting a human-sized kiss on his cheek.  Let me tell you.  No one but his own mother is going to get close enough to kiss that cheek.  Not with all that ruckus going on up above.  Paint away, sister.

If you look VERY closely at the hairline on his forehead...just above his right eye and just below the Abominable Snowman's boxing glove...you'll see a couple of women peeking out from the depths of his golden brown tresses.  I.  Just.  Whutha?

Up on the crown where a coy cowlick lies beneath the Old Spice pommade, Mr. Wonderful's alter ego rides a white stallion while eating a 6 foot long Subway sandwich.  Will he pass the cold cut combo back to the rescued-from-danger-fair-maiden riding behind him so that she can a nibble?

Surely any minute now, Mr. OS is going to hike up his hind foot to scratch the tickles on his scalp.  

Seriously, Goober.  Right now.  Reach up and scratch.  Scratch real good.

You're killin' me.  I actually scratched my head three times while typing this post.  Wait.  Make that four.

[The Head and Shoulders ad that appears above this one in the Proctor and Gamble insert simply shows a lovely lady with shiny brown tresses and really good teeth hugging a handsome fella with shiny black hair and really good teeth.  That guy.  Looks like he's the one gettin' results.]