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New Review:


Perhaps this is apropos of nothing, but before I get to today’s review, I feel the overwhelming desire to point out the alarming physical resemblance between two multiple Emmy-award television icons.



At any given time, both of these oddly androgynous celebs have given me moments of laughter, fear, terror and sadness and I certainly look forward to more couch potato time with these two appealing New Yawk-accented thespians.

That being said, I look forward to spending no additional time with the blue-painted sexual enhancement product Zyrexin. This product reinforces the 2008 presidential race gotcha-phrase “you can put lipstick on a pig, but it’s still a pig.”



First off, rub this pill and the blue food coloring comes off in your hands, like a cheap tattoo you get at a monster truck rally. Then the product label cannot even keep its story straight; on one side it says works in an hour, on the other side it says it works in 45 minutes. On one side it says “doctor approved” and on the other side it says “this product is not intended to diagnose, treat cure or prevent any disease”

So why would a doctor approve it? The only reason I go to a doctor is to have him or her diagnose, treat, cure or prevent a disease. Am I to go to my doctor just so they can approve of my use of this product during fornication? Gosh, not with my high co-pay.

On top of that, this product claims to be rated the #1 natural sex pill in the world. Of course there is no reference to what world that would be. Wally World? The World Bank? World of Warcraft? So we have a product that looks like a drug, is named like a drug, claims to work like a drug, is sold in drug stores and is approved by doctors. Land sakes, I feel a stirring in my loins!

But alas, this product might be a gumball for all I know, except that I receive some pleasure from chewing on that. Even giving this crap the benefit of the doubt, I spent the 24 hours of pleasure it promised deciding whether I actually felt anything at all. Perhaps I could attribute one possible moment during that time to its efficacy, but c’mon. I didn't shell out $24 for a passing stiffy that could have just as easily been attributed to the wind blowing by.

In big bold letters on the side of the box Zyrexin asks the question “tired of sex pills that don’t work?” Sigh. Apparently the makers of this product and their accompanying accountants are laughing all the way to the bank over that one. Don’t bother with this shit product. It may look like a duck, walk like a duck and quack like a duck, but you’d probably get more pleasure shoving a duck up your ass and calling it a day. Dear Zyrexin, in the words of Carmela Soprano, “the only difference between you and me is you’re going to hell when you die.”





-Postal