Wednesday, November 11, 2009

McCormick Mustard

So comely, so willing, so crisp. So dead.

Right about now, you're probably remembering these oven-baked sex objects. (We apologize.) Like the Rachachuros vixens, this fish craves, shall we say, "action." Gamely, she props herself on a fin, beckoning the faceless squirter to do her worst.

She's already been killed and cooked, but she can still be violated in other, less conventional, ways. By being mustardized, for one. And by being eaten, of course. And whatever else these two can dream up.

The pouting, lipsticked lips, the long-lashed eye, the posture: the very humanness of the sexed-up fish and our automatic, reflexive identification with her are thoroughly off-putting.

The intended message appears to be "Why eat a dead animal who just lies there like a cold fish when you can eat a hot dead animal who, you know, wants it?"

(Thanks to Dr. Kelly G. for the unwitting referral.)

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