The Enzyte Song (The Biggest Dicks Of All)

Well, it looks like “Smilin’ Bob” won’t be smiling much for a while.  The (Cincinnati) Enquirer reports that Berkeley Premium Nutraceuticals, the makers of Enzyte, are in court, accused of defrauding customers… to the tune of $100 million. That’s an awful lot of male enhancement.

James Teegarden Jr., the former vice president of operations at Berkeley Premium Nutraceuticals, explained Tuesday in U.S. District Court how he and others at the company made up much of the content that appeared in Enzyte ads.

He said employees of the Forest Park company created fictitious doctors to endorse the pills, fabricated a customer satisfaction survey and made up numbers to back up claims about Enzyte’s effectiveness.

“So all this is a fiction?” Judge S. Arthur Spiegel asked about some of the claims.
“That’s correct, your honor,” Teegarden said.

In their honor, I give you The Enzyte Song, or The Biggest Dicks Of All.

I once was meek and unassuming;
Walked around with storm clouds looming,
Awkward, sad; an isolated loner
I thought that I would be more happy,
Tell jokes better, dress more snappy,
Only if I had a bigger boner.

The TV said that I’d be smiling,
Witty, charming, smooth, beguiling–
Men in lab coats gave their solemn promise.
Studies showed I’d make more money,
Skies above would be more sunny,
If I had a Major League John Thomas.

Bob, Bob, Bob! Quit polishing your knob!
You always knew that Enzyte didn’t work.
Hey, hey, hey! We’re gonna make you pay!
That’s what you get for being such a jerk!

I sent away to get a sample
Knowing I’d soon be more ample;
Nervous, ‘cos of how much was at stake.
I knew that there was nothing less
Than all my future happiness
Dependent on a giant trouser-snake.

I took the capsules as directed,
Waited till the change affected;
Gradually, I realized, in shock–
Nothing changed; I still was geeky,
Shirt still wrinkled, shoes still squeaky,
Most of all, no difference in my cock!

Bob, Bob, Bob! Quit polishing your knob!
You always knew that Enzyte didn’t work.
Hey, hey, hey! We’re gonna make you pay!
That’s what you get for being such a jerk!

Now I hear they’re all on trial;
Records show, despite denial,
Lab results and surveys worse than iffy.
If customers weren’t satisfied
The company just simply lied,
And wrote “I’m so delighted with my stiffy!”

So, yeah, right now they must be bumming,
But surely they all saw it coming:
“The bigger they are, the harder they will fall.”
And in a twist a bit ironic,
No thanks to their useless tonic,
They’ve shown themselves the biggest dicks of all!

Bob, Bob, Bob! Quit polishing your knob!
You always knew that Enzyte didn’t work.
Hey, hey, hey! We’re gonna make you pay!
That’s what you get for being such a jerk!

Tip o’ the cuttle to Jake Young at Pure Pedantry.

No vaccine for arrogance…

Orac reports on the latest pinhead celebrity to jump onto the anti-vax bandwagon. Yup, it’s that walking, talking hairpiece, The Donald.

The anti-vax pinheads are a group I find particularly annoying. My aunt had polio. My grandparents’ generation saw the Salk vaccine for the wonder that it is, and saw polio for the danger it is. Have we forgotten so much so quickly?

When polio was something that
Your friends and family got,
Damn right you’d wait in line to get
That magic-seeming shot.

When infant graves were commonplace,
Each parent knew the cost;
A victim of our own success,
Perspective has been lost.

But now that science gives our lives
More health and fewer pains,
True geniuses like Salk give way
To Trumps with shit for brains.

I’d bet if Trump was suddenly
Confronted with, say, cancer,
He wouldn’t hesitate to look
To science for an answer.

But ignorance and affluence–
A potent combination–
Are threatening the future of
A younger generation.

With every anti-vaxxer voice,
Our children’s risk enlarges,
And science must–for all our sakes–
Defeat these Trumped-up charges.

A long-running bet…

A pair of hucksters had a bet, a long, long time ago
Each swore that he could prove himself the lowest of the low;
Each knew who was the world’s top swindler: “Naturally, I am!”
And so the competition: who could pull the greatest scam?

The first said “I shall tell each father, mother, son and daughter,
That I can cure most anything with nothing more than water!”
Oh, sure, he had to shake it up, succuse each next dilution,
But in the end it’s water, and there’s nothing in solution.

The second watched, and chuckled, “I admit, that’s very good!
You kept it simple—not at all the scam I thought you would!
But frankly, in simplicity, you’ve left an open door,
Lemme show you how to do it, when you do a little more.”

So the second had another plan, and here’s how it begins:
“I will have the people pay me when I puncture them with pins!
Not a hypodermic needle with a drug or some vaccine,
But a pin—that’s all, a pin—that we can only hope is clean.”

The first, in turn, was quite impressed, and told the second so;
And by this time both hucksters knew how far the two might go.
Colloidal silver, orgone rays, and therapeutic touch,
TM, reflexology, and enemas and such.

But time and time again, their efforts only met success—
They knew they had to try once more to make a bigger mess;
They had to pull out all the stops, and really take a chance…
The time had come for sorcery with eggs and underpants.

“You’ve got a curse, you’re going to die, it’s too late now to beg;
There’s just one chance—you’ll need to bring me urine, and an egg,
A plate, a pair of underpants, and yes—five thousand pounds.”
(The fact they were not laughing by this point is what astounds)

The victim paid five hundred pounds, but not the whole five grand,
And so the hucksters argue still, who’s best in all the land.
As long as there are victims there, and money to be had,
This contest will continue—who’s the baddest of the bad?

So keep your eyes wide open, and be sure your brain’s engaged,
For I’m certain there are scams out there this verse has not presaged;
If you hear your spine needs cracking, or your underwear are hexed,
You can call yourself a skeptic, or have hucksters call you “next”.

A tip o’ the cuttle to Podblack Blog for this one…

New and Improved Ancient Technology!

Respectful Insolence reports on an ancient, historic health product–basically, two cylinders, one of copper, one of zinc, that you hold (one in each hand). Yup.

I have improved on the idea.

This ancient pharmacology has long since proved its worth;
It’s the finest panacea in the history of earth.
Two simple metal cylinders can cure all of your ills—
So much better than injections; much more natural than pills!

But I’ve found a better system—I’ve improved upon their wand;
I’ve discovered new technology that lets me go beyond!
It’s a cure for diabetes; it’s a cure for aching feet
It’s a cure for halitosis, and that burning in your seat
It alleviates the symptoms of the flu and common cold
If you follow the instructions, it’s a cure for growing old!
It will tighten up your fanny, smooth the wrinkles on your skin,
And you’ll instantly feel better from the moment you begin!
What’s the closely-guarded secret? Well, you know I cannot say,
But you’re only growing older every moment you delay
There’s no need to spend your life in needless misery, alone,
When a cure is just a call away—so just pick up the phone!

You are now the happy owner of a marvelous device
Read and follow all instructions—you don’t want to do this twice.
The rods the ancient Pharaohs used (of copper and of zinc)
Were truly beneficial, but they also made us think:
If we mix the two together, will the alloy work as well?
We didn’t know, but clearly, an experiment would tell.
Through the miracle of science, our experiment confirms
That the wand that you have purchased will eliminate your germs;
If you use it as directed, we can gladly guarantee
(Or return for price of purchase, less a small restocking fee)
That wherever, on the road of life, your circumstances find you,
Our wand will let you always know, your worries are behind you.
Instructions: take the wand, all seven inches, gleaming brass,
And gently, but completely, shove the whole thing up your ass.