Behold, gentle readers, as I once again draw entirely the wrong kind of Google attention to The Satellite Show. The first time being my Revenge of the Red Baron reviews where I used the words “grandpa”, “teen” and (most especially) “fuck” so many times that afterwards, some anonymous web surfer was referred to the blog courtesy of the search phrase “grandpas fuck teens”. I can only imagine their disappointment as they clicked the back button using the hand not occupied fingering their genitals.
Anyhow, if you’re on the Internet, you’re going to get spammed. Maybe a little, and maybe a whole lot, depending on how many times you’ve shared your email address or downloaded “free” stuff. And if you’re getting spammed, then chances are, regardless of age, race, color, creed, sexual orientation, or even whether or not you actually have one, you’re going to be spammed by people taking an interest in your penis.
Now we can’t actually mistake this as a personal interest, especially if you happen to be that half of the population lacking the necessary component; even as a man it’s suspect when you’re greeted with “hello cwolf26xls, pleasure her now!!”. And then you see they sent everyone on gmail the same message. We won’t even get into the improper spelling and grammar. It’s like they don’t even care…
I mean, if someone’s going to promise me that they can enhance my ejaculation to such psi levels that I’ll be able to “SHOOT UP TO 13 FEET!”, I’d like to know that they have my best interests in mind. It’s just so cold and impersonal, this modern corporate spam culture. I remember when it was about the penis, man! Not the money…
There is much money to be had, no mistake about that. In fact, penises are such big business that it was only a matter of time before the Russians got involved. Don’t believe me? We have the proof still sitting in our Satellite Show spamguard queue. I don’t have the heart to delete it… after all, someone’s life is on the line. Thankfully Louis, at great risk to himself and his family, has already shared its warning, and its message, with the world. But if you’re too much of a lazy, uncaring bastard to even click that link, I’ll repeat it here:
“I’m currently being held prisoner by the Russian mafia penis enlargement penis enlargement and being forced to post spam comments on blogs and forum! If you don’t approve this they will kill me. penis enlargement penis enlargement They’re coming back now. vimax vimax Please send help! nitip penis enlargement penis enlargement”
Heartbreaking. A new low in man’s inhuman exploitation of his fellow man. Yes, the grammar is still imperfect, but can you blame the author for this? When some 400 pound Enforcer, likely known to him only as “Viktor”–or some nickname that happens to be the Russian word for “Combine Harvester”–is standing over him, cracking knuckles the size of walnuts whenever his hapless captive’s cramped and shaking hands show signs of hesitation in the endless typing of keywords?
Alas, we did not approve the comment, so he may very well be at the bottom of a harbor by now. But Dawn was inspired enough by his plight to at least make a movie poster in anticipation of the upcoming film that will no doubt be in production as soon as news of this reaches Hollywood:
How do we know it’s a man writing these? For one very simple reason: it’s funnier.
Yes, it’s definitely been a week for penis. Remember this happy gentleman?
That’s Bob. Bob is doing well, as Enzyte’s television ads (“for natural male enhancement!”) were constantly informing us. I suppose the stratagem here was a recognition that there’s no way to talk to a consumer about his penis on national television and not have it be creepy… so they decided fuck it, turn the creepy up to 11. I mean good Christ, if you think Bob’s creepy, do you remember how they decided to portray “Mrs. Bob”? By everything I can figure, it was just the same actor dressed up in drag–a vision of womanhood for which you’d really need that male enhancement in order to, uh, keep her happy.
Enzyte Bob’s hideous serial killer grin is plastered on this blog because I found out this week that the man who founded Enzyte is serving 25 years in prison.
Turns out that despite, or perhaps (shudder) because of, the commercials, lots of men signed up for their Enzyte. Shockingly, Enzyte did not make their penises larger. But I don’t think that’s what pissed off the judge in the case so much that he sentenced Steve Warshak to 25 years of PMITA. No, that was likely a result of the testimony of one of the former vice presidents of Enzyte:
When customers ordered a product, the company’s goal was to keep charging their credit cards for as long as possible, Teegarden said.
He said first-time customers were automatically enrolled in a “continuity program” that sent Enzyte to their homes every month and charged their credit cards without authorization.
“Without continuity, the company wouldn’t exist,” Teegarden said. “It was the sole profit of the business.”
If customers complained, he said, employees were instructed to “make it as difficult as possible” for them to get their money back. In some cases, Teegarden said, Warshak required customers to produce a notarized statement from a doctor certifying Enzyte did not work.
To be perfectly clear here, what Enzyte was requiring in order to issue a refund was for a man to willingly seek out and then present a notarized statement that he (still) had a small penis.
Pure, evil genius.
Alas for Steve, the judge did not find this at all humorous, ensuring Steve would be having a lot of up close and personal experience with natural male enhancement in the years to come. That was in 2008, but Enzyte survived under new management, which is why we still continued to see those commercials. Also, despite heavy post-trial restrictions on what Enzyte could be claimed to do, the product still, like Bob, seems to be doing well.
While competitor Vimax might have the power of the Russian mob behind it (not to mention Vimax is still free to make whatever spurious claims it damn well pleases about being a penile Miracle-Gro), I suppose it’s those creepy TV ads that lend Enzyte an air of legitmacy the other herbal placebos lack. How sad that its noble founder rots in prison, while unscrupulous knock-offs that resort to kidnapping, coercion, and forum spam are free to profit off of our phallic ineptitude!
Then again, I think back to “you’ll get your refund when I get notarized proof of your tiny dick!”, and figure maybe the Mafia is the more ethical business choice, after all.