The Sexualisation of Animals and Why I Cry of Laughter Every Time I Think of this Perverted Interpretation of Animal Behaviour
I would not by any stretch of the imagination deem myself an avid television-goer. Perhaps it is just me, and I am not catching on with the trends of my friends and other under 24-year-olds. But this advertisement for Orangina ripped like a virgin into the core of my well-being. Whoever thought of this should be shot, and probably has a lot of dead pets given that many animals can’t really take a cock. The most frightening part for me was most certainly 0:52. I was repulsed by not only the animal itself but by its breasts. Its throbbing, saturated breasts were dripping like a Hanukkah candle, and, quite frankly, I don’t want to drink anything that has been associated with one of the following: soaked octopus tits; seducing a gazelle; flamingo pole-dancing; a bear in a thong; a giraffe camel toe; a visual metaphor of a zebra ejaculating (the list could go on).
This advertisement blatantly constitutes animal porn and is a disgrace to the animal community; it is a misleading portrayal. Firstly, the biodiversity present is utterly false. Apparently, all animals - no matter your shape, size or habitat - are welcomed in this fantastical, sexual wonderland. Secondly, I doubt they’d have the materials and logic to fashion the revolting, colourful bits of rag they flaunt on their crotches and breasts. Unless bikinis emerge from the watering hole - whatever that might mean in this unorthodox, morally-dead community of creatures - then I highly doubt their existence in such an underdeveloped community (suppose they do have a strip club, though…). On the topic of breasts, I am also quite astounded at the fact that some of these animals have developed them. I was horrified at 0:11 watching a gazelle shake her large breasts. Again, it was not as abhorrent as the octopus deformity which boasted its Vimto-coloured melons.
In summary, the advertisement will certainly not be getting this juice-lover dashing into the stores to ‘shake it to wake it’. Primarily because I have a soul and am (hopefully) one of the many people who recognise that ‘life is juicy’ but not in this way. A tropical, sexual paradise littered with ‘experienced’ slutty animals is not a juicy life. I implore you to stay away. Orangina are perverts. And I know that I won’t be buying that bottle of rape juice any time soon.