We have a winner! Thanks to the power of the random integer generator and your marvelous creativity, we have a winner in our Smells Like Chris Evans Or The Hotness of Your Choice candle giveaway! I know he is a serial killer and all, but for this fantasy it works…LOL. Not, like, clean-shaven Captain America Chris Evans, but between-movies-scruffy-beard-lumberjack-with-a-plaid-shirt-adorable-meatball-Chris Evans.
You know the one. We had to investigate this claim. So I hopped on a bus, then on a train, and trotted down to the only Yankee Candle store on public transit in Boston. So I brought it home, and gloated to my roommate Girl!
Roommate that I had hunted and gathered and returned victorious and she then smelled the candle and declared like it smelled like Old Spice and cheap incense and she has no sense of delight in the world and is also wrong. Colin Firth in a cravat, bringing you breakfast? Anna Kendrick and Rebel Wilson singing to you while they cook eggs? Ji Chang-wook protecting you from all the bad guys while also bringing you a hot coffee? Jason Momoa doing pretty much whatever?
Open to international residents were permitted by applicable law. Your mileage may vary. You can in fact possibly smell what the Rock is cooking. Come to think of it, I do believe Sam Heughan is likely to appear in highwayman fashion, and a challenge for my affections will ensue.
It smells like Jeremy Renner is rubbing my shoulders after a long day while I watch Chris Hemsworth play with a litter of kittens. Max Martini is bringing me one. But he just looks gruff and yummy. He smells ever so slightly of the desert. Meanwhile, James Murray is massaging my feet, and telling me quirky little anecdotes. Have you seen James Murray? James smells like the soil deep, deep in the forest. How about Alan Rickman distracting the local deer from eating my plants by reciting Homer while Benedict Cumberbatch, taking a break from his newborn, makes coffee for me?
I would hope that it smells like cuddling with Tom Hiddleston under a cozy blanket, before a fire built from the wood that Tom Hardy cut, while we listen to Benedict Cumberbatch recite just about anything.
I would hope that it smells like Richard Armitage curling up with me in front of a campfire while we make smores under the starry, starry sky, while Toms Hardy and Hiddleston read Shakespeare and we all sip on good wine. I live just next to where Outlander is filmed. I could burn some of these, and see if I could attract some of the cast to my surburban den of iniquity for crumpets, crumpet and tea.
It smells like Daniel Craig bringing me a cup of tea after stoking the fire in that castle in Skyfall before it got blowed up, of course , wrapping me in a wool plaid blanket. And I can smell the beef bourguignon that he put in the oven a few hours ago, along with the fresh bread that he just finished. It smells like eating smores while cuddling with Mick St. No places to go no things to do just cuddling with a hot guy some smores and a really really awesome book!
Perfume is my other hobby, so this topic is very dear to me. I once smelled a very raunchy smelling fragrance did you know perfumes could be raunchy, too? I guess my mountain lodge smells like sipping mulled wine on an old leather sofa in front of a crackling fire while Jon Stewart entertains me with hilarious anecdotes. My mountain lodge would smell like Peter Dinklage gave it a thorough clean, spread sheepskins before the fire, hung a brass kettle over the flames and settled down to entertain me with behind-the-scenes stories about shooting Game of Thrones.
It smells like Tom Hiddleston, dressed in his Loki costume, reading passages from Elizabethan dramas off my Ph. Smells like Anthony Andrews in his younger years, maybe Brideshead Revisited, wearing a wooly jumper and bringing me perfect British tea and a fresh plate of scones dripping in butter with plenty of clotted cream and jam on the side. And thrn snuggles while we discuss sword play.
No, actual sword play. With Richard Armitage and Shawn Ashmore cooking in the kitchen. Look, I may have been introduced to The Scarlet Pimpernel in my tender years, and my love for Anthony has never left me. It will smell like Tom Hiddleston in a sweater cuddling me and reciting poetry while we drink tea on a lazy afternoon.
Having just watched the first episode of Poldark last night, I want a candle that smells like Aidan Turner on horseback riding over the cliffs of Cornwall to rescue my dog and save me from a loveless marriage of convenience.
It will smell like Chris Evans startling me into a girly squeak and then cuddling away my indignant outrage at his meatball antics. The scruffy beard will make it doubly amazing. It will smell like Tom Hiddleston dancing around the house, then collapsing next to me on the sofa and reciting Shakespearean sonnets. He is spooning my back and washing my hair while cooing in my ear that he is going to make it all better.
I think this should smell like Viggo Mortensen rubbing my feet and reciting his poetry in a cozy log cabin. This candle is going to smell like Paul Rudd giving me a backrub and then going of to fetch me Chinese takeout. Or Joseph Gordon Levitt serenading me while performing a choreographed dance routine. It smells like the cabin where Nick Offerman and Megan Mullally bring me after a boat ride across a silver lake to a small, unpopulated island off the Oregon coast.
Nick make the cabin with his hands, obviously, as well as the four-poster bed that takes up half the back wall. I hope it smells like Chris Evans just finished tuning up my Mustang and has now come inside to give me a massage and feed me chocolate covered strawberries, then watching the Notebook with me and reading Black Dagger novels with me after. I think it will smell like being curled up in a cozy blanket in front of a fire, reading a old leather book.
I feel sweaty just typing that. Fun with jam and clotted cream ensue. It smells like Scott Fujita and I wrapped up together in a warm, soft blanket, drinking mugs of hot tea and discussing feminism as an early spring thunderstorm brews just outside our picture window just big enough for two. Historic Faneuil Hall with a crowd of tourists watching the breakdancing crew and also a statue of Samuel Adams.
The holy grail on the shelf. Hugh jackman, laughing with coffee. It smells like Jason Statham is chopping wood for you. Shirts get in the way of chopping wood. It smells like Chiwetel Ejiofor is reciting Shakespeare to you.
All at the same time. One small tumbler Mountain Lodge candle, cheerfully burning. Now, we are not going to sit on this bounty by ourselves. No, no, we have a giveaway. We have a 12 pack of Mountain Lodge tea lights to send to one of you! Good luck, and breathe deeply! Comments are Closed Comment navigation More Comments: June 22, at 3: June 22, at 4: June 22, at 6: June 22, at 7: K E S says: June 22, at 8: June 22, at 9: June 22, at June 22, at 1: June 22, at 2:More...