iwst99

For sure! Thanks for reading.


If anyone is interested, below is the first post Postal made for his reviews. It was basically a backstory of why we're doing what we do. He wrote this before ever writing the first review.



I am sure you know one of these people. The minute you let out the smallest cough or sneeze, they come running at you, patchouli-laced, soy-breathed, holding a panoply of tea formulas, Echinacea-based tinctures, free-radical beating anti-oxidant super-foods, pills, elixirs and salves all designed to bring even a potential cold or flu to it’s knees before even the first sinus has dripped. They are well-meaning, earnest and abso-certain that you can heal yourself faster with their “natural remedies” than any raft of drugs available from those evil culprits at “big pharma”.


Do they work? If you chew on a Zicam or some other such “natural preventive” do you really know whether your cold will last 3 days less? Who the heck knows? But these well meaning folks, fresh off a visit to the MySpace page of Woodstock’s 40th Anniversary Tie-Dye Festival will swear up and down that everything, ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING can be cured with a dab of milk thistle behind each ear.


How do I know about this stuff? For some 20 odd years I have worked as a marketing executive in the field of natural products and health and I swear on a stack of Prevention Magazines, I believe every single claim that they make as long as I am paid to believe it. For the most part I have listened to every marketing pitch, looked at every research paper, and subjected myself to every “real life” testimonial the same way a deaf grandfather would react to his grandson’s piano recital; with the desperately bemused smile reserved for the mentally retarded.


Does it mean that none of this stuff works? Could four to five aisles of every Whole Foods Stores truly be just a thousand-SKU’d WTFs? Sure, the placebo effect is strong. Surely the logic of a thousand exotic sounding supplements buried deep in the elk tusks of long lost Andean creatures hold some healing benefit. Surely a thousand anecdotal stories of swift returns from death’s door provide some basis for creating a kajillion dollar industry that heals with the unerring accuracy of God’s own divining rod. Right?


To all this I say who cares? If I slam my hand in a car door, take an Advil and tell myself I’ll feel better, perhaps I will. If I don’t feel better I’ll take an Oxycotin, or a blunt object to the nads or the gas pipe.


However, now I fall into the category of wanting something from this crap-strewn “natural health” industry. As a sexually active man in my extremely late 30’s, my staff of life has somewhat withered into a noodle of uncertainty. If I knit my brow real hard and concentrate really really intensely on the object of my lust, I can perhaps release a few knuckle babies into the universe with the same enthusiasm that Gary Wright sings “Dream Weaver” during his state-fair tour. I can still do it, but it requires way more effort than it used to.


If mixing metaphors and speaking in veiled reference is not your thing, let’s just cut to the chase. Natural products industry, I want my dick hard the way it was during the Reagan administration. Your endless come-ons about firmness, passion, length, girth, mirth, fulfillment, sturdiness, pleasure, jizz, volume, sensuality, rigidity, fuckability has brought even this disbeliever to his knees and at your feet. Give me turgidity or give me death!


Sure, there’s the drug industry with their pretty blue and pink pills offering sexual nirvana for $10 a pop. Of course, first you must discuss your droopy wiener with your doctor. Then you have to plan your sex properly in advance and remember not to eat for 3-4 hours prior to incursion. Plus God forbid if your partner wants more than a one-night only fuck-n-dash and your meter has expired and you didn’t pack extra. And I hope you don’t mind head-pounding blue tinged blood-and-heart pounding spasms. And nothing like a visit from your Mom while still tenting on Viagra three hours later. And kiss all sexual spontaneity goodbye. Yeah, bring all that on you fuckers. That’s what I call sexual value!


So, natural products industry, I now call you on the carpet. Now that it matters TO ME, I want your come-ons to mean something. Hard cock when I want it? Yup! No side-effects? Check! Leave them wanting more? Right on! Right on! Feel 20 again? Sign me up! I am going to use your products like there’s no tomorrow, all with the exquisite promise of making me the sexual stud-muffin I always envision for myself in a land where porn-karaoke is not only permitted but encouraged. I’m going to pop every pill, drink every drink and stand on my own nut sac if necessary to partake in the exquisite pleasures you market. My dear natural product friends, I will be either rejoicing in the turgid pleasure you provide or exposing you as the rancid carnival-barking charlatans I deep down know you probably are. I will be trying and reviewing every product that promises libidinous volume. I am taking your “marketing copy” at its word and sharing my findings with the world.



The only rule:

If you promise instant and hot results that’s what I am looking for. None of this “use it for a few months and see the difference” crap. You got to get me hard now and make me perform like John Holmes! That’s all that matters


Now read on as I stand ready to navigate through a sea of endless come-ons, ready to eviscerate all that do not live up to the goal of restoring my sexual prowess to its protean heights!



-Postal