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-watcher. 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.
This 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.
Of what use is a philosopher who doesn’t hurt anybody’s feelings?"
- Diogenes of Sinope
This is me. On the advent of adulthood, and the termination of my high-school education at the sixth-form ball. I look happy, but I’m not. Want to know what really tickles my fancy? Criticising. Why not? Many of you will be using this as another confirmation of your generalization of gays being ‘catty’, but I assure you, this is not a blog concerning who, is fat, fashionable, had an abortion, ate said abortion, then used it for surgery…whatever. This blog will be enriched with sophistication; it will be more meticulous; and be sharply focused on more pressing matters. Truth is, I’ve been dead inside for too long now. I finally get the chance to burst, and unleash my critical tools upon the different social, religious, political etc. communities of the earth. There’s a lot of things I feel are wrong with me, and many of you will say I’m insecure which is why I feel I have to criticise others. To this - probably - majority of users, I say see you next Tuesday. Please, however, feel free to engage in debate, ask questions, challenge what I think. Ask anything. On any matter. I’m not easily offended to say the least. To convince you, just look at me and my friend’s fancy-dress costumes over the years: Lady Di’ (with gearstick through the chest and a plastic bloody heart…), a ‘slave’ (yes that kind), KKK member (not racist, just shock value), sexy Anne Frank. It goes on. That’s not even the tip of it. Without any further chatter, let’s fuck this shit up - but with philosophy….