Kid Pandaemonium

THIS IS AN ADVERTISEMENT.
Clear skin.
Glossy hair.
White teeth.
Drive fast.
Look cool.
Be a man.
Be more of a man.
Get the girl.
And another.
And another.
THIS IS AN ADVERTISEMENT.
Drink me.
Smoke me.
Eat me.
Fuck me.
Wear me.
Want me.
Be me.
The chimp with the biggest stick.
The pinnacle of male existence is ejaculation – everything else is semantics.
The amygdala part of the brain tells me this is my only purpose.
The highest, naturally-occurring volume of endorphins in the human body is when I blow my load.
Don’t blame me, blame my hypothalamus.
Blame my pituitary.
Commercial advertising is tantamount to foreplay, An alpha male ejaculation fixation.
It’s all about improving the odds.
Everything you want, you want because it gets you that little bit closer,
That little bit nearer,
To getting your rocks off, honey.
THIS IS AN ADVERTISEMENT.
And it says - “I Want You To”
Shoot your load all over me, says the girl in the push-up bra.
Over my windscreen, says the Lexus.
In my mouth, says the Colgate ad.
THIS IS AN ADVERTISEMENT.
Fresh breath.
Calvin Klein says – “Now you, too, can smell like Kate Moss”
This is how superstars smell.
This is how gods smell.
You can, too.
For a price.
Do you want to be a god?
Or something smaller?
Lower?
Lesser?
Do you want to be a god, says Adam.
I want to be a god, says Eve.
THIS IS AN ADVERTISEMENT.
Right here.
Right now.
In this box.
This is me.
And I want you to love me.
Admire me, desire me, need me.
Cos that’s what an advertisement is, baby.
I promise I’ll do everything to make you unique.
Better than you were before.
Better…stronger…faster.
THIS IS AN ADVERTISEMENT.
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