I am perfectly qualified to work in advertising. I have had sex with people and I know people that have had sex. Thus, I have logically deduced that myself and these people only care about sex. We don’t talk about anything else, or pursue anything else, because nothing else is interesting. Our existences consist of talking about sex whilst dribbling uncontrollably and wanking ourselves into insanity when we’re alone.
I can’t really see that people who work in advertising have much shame. It can’t be a huge necessity when your job is to trick people into buying more and more plastic shit, and it helps if they view human beings as nothing more than cock-brained imbeciles who instantly throw money at something that gives them an erection or moistens their vagina.
If Huggies launched a new range of nappies with hand prints on the arse and the words “little slut” printed above, I wouldn’t be too surprised. But I would definitely emigrate to a part of the world where companies don’t view babies as exploitable sex-objects and potential buyers as paedophiles.
Maybe I belong to a rare breed of people who want sex to remain special and able to provide an element of romance, rather than just being used as a mindless advertising tool and something to re-blog on Tumblr. Who knows.
SH.
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