Let Me Tell You About A Porcupine's Balls: Fucking ASPCA Commercials

I'm powerless to do anything but change the channel when they come on. I'm a cold-hearted prick, but these commercials sickeningly melt my heart faster than a cocaine ice cube in front of Charlie Sheen. You're not likely to see a more sensationalist commercial on television, short of the ones where the driver takes a single puff off a joint, thereby forcing him to commit genocide.

The recipe for all ASPCA commercials:

Slow fade in while playing shitty sentimental music; most notably from Sarah McLachlan.
Slow pan-ins on slowed videos of dogs with sad faces, dogs with missing eyes, cats in iron-lungs, dogs on fire, etc.
Voice over that keeps driving the point home that all animals that aren't yours are unloved and need $18 a month otherwise they risk immediate death.
Repeat for at least 3 minutes.

Even hardened terrorists crumble in the wake of ASPCA commericals

In case the standard depressing-as-shit images in their commercials don't bring in enough case, I've made a few that should help kick things up a few notches.


For only $19.95 a week, you can feed this kitten and keep our PA, John, from turning the blender on

For a mere $2.80 per day, the price of one of your Starbucks coffees, you can keep Mickey Rourke from compressing this dog between his hands until it's dead

For a measly $0.75 an hour, your donations will keep this serial rapist from crushing this baby snake with his bare hands

For only $15 a day, the price of one of your trendy handjobs, you can keep this clinically depressed pug wearing a sweater from darting out in the street in an attempt to kill itself

For a mere $75 a week, plus tax, title, registration, you can prevent alpacas from being lowered into toxic vats

For the price of 3 PBJ sandwiches per day, you can keep little Jimmy from firing at this box of kittens with a naval cannon, blowing kitty fluff everywhere