Victoria Secrets Commando Clean Story

Hi, my name is Victoria Secrets, and this is my story titled (drum roll please):

Victoria Secrets Commando Clean Story

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve wanted to become a Victoria Secrets Super Model. Unfortunately, as I became a teenager, I realized I wasn’t going to be a Victoria Secrets Super Model. I’d sit in front of the mirror for hours wondering why I didn’t look like the Victoria Secrets models in magazines.

Victoria Secrets Mirror
Victoria Secrets looking in the mirror.

Then one day, when I was wallowing in self pity, I found an old photo in the attic – a large group picture. On the back of the photo in my mother’s handwriting was an old date and the words, “Family Reunion.”

As I scanned through the photo looking for a younger version of my mother I stopped in confusion. Wait, this couldn’t be right, this had to be a photo from my father’s family reunion. Maybe my mother had just written the note on the backside of the photo. But I was certain, the young man in the photo was definitely my father.

Victoria Secrets Family Reunion
Victoria Secrets mother’s family reunion.

As I stared at my father in the photo, I came to realize he wasn’t staring back at me. His fourteen year old eyes were transfixed on something else in the photo. I found myself staring at his eyes trying to connect the dots. It didn’t look like my father was daydreaming, he was definitely focused on something. So, I followed his eyes, and I was stopped dead in my tracks.

The person I saw staring back at me left me bewildered. A young lady, about my age, who happened to look an awful lot like me. It was my mother.

Victoria Secrets
Victoria Secrets photograph.

Why would my mother be at my father’s family reunion? Wait, why would my father be at my mother’s family reunion? Wait, why did my father and mother look an awful lot alike?

Later that summer my Uncle Chezney told me the truth. I’ll never forget when I showed him the photo I’d been hiding from my parents all summer. Those unforgettable words, “Victoria Secrets, I don’t want you to freak out! But, your parents are cousins.”

Cousins, I exclaimed! What do you mean cousins? Like third cousins twice removed? Like my mother’s great aunt married an older divorced man with two grown children. One of which was my father, but there is definitely no blood relation type cousins?

“Nope – as in, your dead grandmother’s didn’t have the same first name – they were the same person,” said Uncle Chezney grinning from ear to ear – his three remaining teeth on full display. I’m your mother’s bother, but I’m also your father cousin. “Your mother was quit a looker back then. She could have been a Victoria Secrets Model. I tried to get her to marry me, but your father had already staked his claim. You were born just seven months later.”

Victoria Secrets Brothers
Victoria Secrets Brothers (aka: “The Bacon Brothers”).

Devastated and distraught I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t let my dreams of becoming a Victoria Secrets Super Model just dye. As I fought back the tears all my insecurities seemed to turn inward, but I was determined to live my dreams.

Little did I know at the time, but inbred children suffer unique conditions. Everyone knows about the hunchbacks, crossed eyes, and bearded women. But few people know the real reason inbreds are often referred to as “The Bacon Bunch.” It’s not that we love bacon, it’s because we always have “Bacon Stripes.”

How would I ever become a Victoria Secret Super Model with “Bacon Stripes.” As Uncle Chezney consoled me with one of his famous french kisses, I realized, he didn’t smell like the rest of the family – he didn’t smell like poo. Then I looked down and saw the dog tags around his neck. Uncle Chezney wasn’t a veteran, he was a Commando!

Today I’m married to Commando Chezney and I’m a Commando too!!!

Victoria Secrets Family
Victoria Secrets New Family.

Thank you Commando Clean – you saved my life!!!


– Victoria Secrets

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Junior High Gym Class

My name is Douglas Thurman and this is my Commando Clean story.


As an eighth graders at Norman Beacon Junior High School, I often find myself bullied and ridiculed by my classmates. So I find myself going to extreme measures in order to avoid any unwanted attention.

Last semester one of my worst nightmares nearly came true. After gym class, Derrick Jones came looking for trouble in the dressing room. As I heard my name ring out I hardly had time to think about what to do. I grabbed the first thing in sight, and stuffed my poo stained tighty whities inside.

Unfortunately for me, I forgot where I stuffed my tighty whities. Later that night my mother found my secret stash inside of my lunchbox. Luckily for me, my mother had suffered the same type of bullying as a child. As I wept in her arms she said, ” Son, it’s time you become a Commando.”

Three days later I received an early birthday present, The Commando Clean. Commando Clean saved my life. Thank you Commando Clean!!!


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Dry Hair

My Commando Clean Story started years ago when I was at Lawny Calhoon’s birthday party and his mother noticed a dark fudge stripe in my hair. I was eight years old at the time and I will never forget the humiliation of standing in front of the house waiting for my mother to pick me up early. All the other children sat in the living room watching out the window. As I looked out the backseat window of my mothers station wagon as we departed, all I could see was Lawny’s mother throwing my birthday present in the garbage before it was even opened.


As my mother screamed at me from the front seat, all I could think was how did this happen? She was so embarrassed and went on and on about how the whole neighborhood would be talking about this for years. “We may as well go home and start packing because were going to have move. For that matter, I better call my lawyer and see about getting our names changed.” On and on she went telling me how I’d ruined her life.

Her life? What about my life? How was I going to go to school on Monday? Surely my teacher Ms. Nelson would hear about this before Monday. She’d call Principal Wasdon before school even started. I’d land in the nurses office before 9am. The nurse would be dressed in a hazmat suit and be ordered to perform a full fudge detection. All the other kids would be watching through the window as Principal Wasdon announced over the intercom, “Attention All Students. There will be a special assembly at 10am to address any fudge striped hair concerns. Teachers, please remain calm and wait till after the assembly to visit my office.”





Fortunately the weekend passed and school started on Monday with only a few whispers and strange looks from other students. The rumors where starting to fly until a bit of luck saved me from a life of social isolation.

Erica Conner pissed her pants in class. The refreshing smell of urine pouring off of her chair set my mind at easy. I was out of the spot light and my streaked nightmare would fade away.





Unfortunately this was only the beginning. A month later we headed over to grandma’s house for Thanksgiving Dinner. Something smelled strange to me in the backseat of the station wagon, but I thought it must just be mom’s “famous green bean casserole”.  When we arrived at grandma’s house, my uncle opened the door and welcomed us inside. He looked at me and said, “Wow, Conner is really growing up.” My mother looked at him with a surprised look on her face to which he replied, “Check out his mustache!”.

These episodes continued for months until I started becoming so paranoid I’d smell test everything in the house – but this poo mystery was a tough case, and the trail went cold. Finally, after weeks of obsessive behavior, I had a break through. As I started to dry my hair after a long shower on a cold winter morning I noticed something strange. A brown streak across my thumb.

I remember thinking to myself, how could this be? I just spent 45mins scrubbing every nook and cranny with the harshest chemical detergent I could find. Then it struck me – the towel! Sure enough, as I jumped out the shower and stared into the mirror, there it was, a fudge stripe straight across my forehead.





My older brother T.J., that bastard!!! He’d been using my fudge colored towel to wipe his hinny.

For the rest of the cold winter I suffered, sometimes waiting hours to drip dry after a shower. I saved my lunch money, allowance money, shoveled snow, and mowed lawns. After nearly a year I had finally saved enough money.

When all of the guests had gone into the kitchen for cake and ice cream I slipped The Commando Clean into the pile of gifts at T.J.’s birthday party. It was the last present opened at the party and my mother was a little confused when she picked up the box and it did not have a name tag. She asked who had brought the gift, but nobody spoke up.




When T.J. opened The Commando Clean his friends friends thought it was the coolest present in the world. Today T.J. proudly wears the Commando Clean dog tags around his neck and tells everyone he’s the cleanest kid on the block. And even though T.J. still uses my towel, I can finally dry my hair.

Thank you Commando Clean!!!




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Yoga Anyone?

For years I’ve been struggling to become a disciplined yoga practitioner. Everyday I wake up at 6am and head down to my favorite yoga studio. For the next hour I work on stretching my body and focusing my mind before heading off to my high stress corporate cubicle.

As a white male cubicle dweller, my job requires me to be on my toes at all times. A mistake with a bullet point on a power point presentation could cost me years of pointless emails, conference calls, and corporate synergistic team building get aways – not to mention working weekends. So, I’m sure you can understand the importance of a sharp mind as I ascend the corporate latter.


Unfortunately my morning focus kept being interrupted as other disruptive people in my yoga class would often loose their focus. As I’d bend my body into downward dog, I’d hear someone gagging behind me. We’d start to transition into child’s pose, and I’d hear people gasping for air. Then one day as I moved into plough pose, a young lady sitting next to me threw up.

With vomit on her clothes and tears in her eyes, she begged the yoga master… please, make him go away. After class the yoga master looked me square in the eyes, smacked me across the face, and said, “You’ll never find peace when your world smells like poo.” As my lower lip quivered and I fought back the tears I asked, “Master please help me.”

Rejected and confused I stopped going to yoga class. I lost my focus at work and nearly my job. Coworkers started complaining about the odors, and I was moved from the cubicle city into the warehouse. My world was crumbling around me.

And then, like a gift from above, I received an anonymous gift. An anonymous gift that changed my life. I opened the box and there it was, The Commando Clean!!!

Thank you kind soul, you saved my life!!!

Today, I continue your good will and pay it forward – I’m sending an anonymous gift to my yoga master.





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The Environmentalist

Mother Earth always comes first in my book!!! Ever since the day I stepped out of diapers, I’ve been trying to find ways to lower my impact on the environment – from peeing in the bushes to eating bark, you name it – I do it for Mother Earth!




My life has never been the same since my friend, Jeb Brush, introduced me to Commando Clean. I can still remember when Jeb told me, “he would never wipe again.” He went on to explain how Commando Clean had changed his life. He said, “I finally feel free now that I don’t use TP.”

My life changed forever when Jeb asked me one simple question, “R.U.C.C.?” With a confused look on my face, I asked Jeb, what is R.U.C.C.? Jeb replied, “Are You Commando Clean”?

As tears rolled down my cheeks, I proceeded to lower my pants and show Jeb my bacon stripped tighty whities; the same pair of tighty whities I’d been wearing since the 7th grade. Jeb then looked me directly in the eyes and said, “My friend, I’m here to save you – it’s time you become a Commando”!

I’m now proud to admit, like a good environmentalist, I’ve been using the same paper napkin for six months. Yes, I use the same napkin to pat dry after using The Commando Clean.

Oh, and Jeb, the dinner party at my house last weekend, the napkin you used, that was my Commando Napkin – but, don’t worry, it’s always clean. Thank you my friend, you saved my life!

– Arnold “Commando” Spitzer

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