Watch Rita Ora Rub Up Against Chris Brown, the Union Jack in 'Body On Me'


“Body On Me,” Rita Ora and Chris Brown’s ode to non-penetrative sex, has a video. This is good for Rita Ora and Chris Brown, as I (and presumably many others) had missed the song until now. It is, however, quite bad for me (and presumably many others) because the video is a wholly unsexy and grimy little thing that does little more than prove how difficult it is to watch Chris Brown touch a woman—or even stand next to one—without feeling a little unpleasant.

Let’s feel unpleasant together, shall we?

[Ora spends much of the video rubbing the British flag against her naked body, but because those shots do nothing to drive the narrative forward, I’ll share them first and move on to the plot.]


We begin in the shitty industrial elevator of a building that doesn’t look up to code. Chris, playing a gentleman here, opens the door for Rita as she runs in with groceries. “Don’t you live,” he says. “Across the hall,” she interrupts.

Their Horniness Level is now at 2.

The newly horny neighbors then move to their apartments, where they both attempt to purge themselves of all that horniness in various ways. Chris tries watching TV, but there’s no service. I bet you regret cutting the cord now, Chris!

Meanwhile, Rita sits on the couch beside her British flag and calls for the ghost of Margaret Thatcher to purge unclean thoughts from her body. “Free me from the burden of desire,” she says.

“I owe nothing to women’s lib,” Thatcher’s ghost announces. That’s her response to everything!

Their Horniness Level has now gone up to 4.

Here come the visions. Rita is now imagining Chris’s body on her body, Chris is imagining Rita’s body on his, and it’s all becoming too much to handle.

But wait, is that a window?

Wasn’t it established that Chris lives across the hall from Rita? Of course it was. So either their apartment building was designed by M.C. Escher or their windows are connected by the universe’s most worthless wormhole, because they are now watching each other. And because they’ve gone from imagining each other’s bodies to looking at them through a theoretical rift in spacetime, their Horniness Level has increased to a solid 7.

For reference, I’ve sketched out a rough blueprint of their apartment building:

Beluga break!

After a little voyeurism and vodka, their Horniness Level pops up to 8 and they begin losing control. Chris wants to touch the pretty lady!

And Rita wants Margaret Thatcher to quit telling her about the problems with socialism and rid those sexy feelings from her body!

Horniness Level: 9.

Conservative Party: In Power.

Oh god, the visions are back.

They need to meet up and touch bodies yesterday.

Fortunately, the layout of their apartment building is revealed to make even less sense than it did before once Chris shows up at her window.

“To the roof, Ms. Ora! Let’s touch bodies under the stars!” he screams from behind the glass.

“Give me a second,” she responds. “I’ve got to put on my favorite shoes.”

Before long, they’re on top of their building – their bodies finally on one another.

You can never stop Rita Ora’s boots from going red, Ms. Thatcher.

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