If you search your heart you will recognise that your life has in truth been a sad and pitiful travesty because you’ve never found any way to conveniently inject bananas with chocolate sauce. Luckily Sonna! Chocobana-na is here to fill your bananas and to plug the aching abyss of your soul hole. そんな！チョコバナ～ナ: Sonna translates as “like that” or something similar, although I’m guessing they mean something more like “Such/So Chocobanana!”. You can also insert cream into your banana if you’re in the mood for even more symbolically charged fruit consumption than that which will ensue from the chocobana-na. You could try some jamu, or other gelatinous substances, but we need to face the fact that this product is called Sonna! Chocobana-na so I’m afraid you’ll just have to accept that chocolate is the orthodox choice. One thing to be said in the ad’s favour is that it’s relentlessly innocent, which is just as well considering it features two little girls, but at the same time I don’t think there’s any way to advertise bananas or banana-related products that doesn’t bring other things to an adult’s mind.
On the subject of smut, you must also click on the auto-generated English subtitles to experience YouTube’s simultaneously poetic and wholly inappropriate introduction of Don the Bottom, gender ambiguity and YOUR MOM to this already sexually fraught chocolate banana injection scenario:
The bottom Don
From the bottom comment on
July double by now your mom
MM-hmm little bit your mom got that
But cast I had lost it
Segal he’s big meet up
Google past II doubled and I your mom
Little bit moans little bit mom dude
Home movie him home yeah
On many people here then we’ll see you
Go bad now
All a bit James Joyce, isn’t it?
Obligatory and inevitable Chocolate Disco postscript: The only thing better than a chocobana-na would be a chocobana-na disco. Read about Chocolate Disco, as previously discussed on this blog, or see how the ladies of Perfume faired once they escaped from the Laser Prism Valentine’s Hell Dimension only to find themselves locked in a room, knocking on a door that never opens and practising small acts of telekinesis.
Reblogged this on Alistair Gentry.