FlamingText

Caveat Emptor

   So obviously I'm back after spending the holidays in Ohio, where my family members, I am happy to report, failed in their attempts to kill me with pork products. While I was there I got caught up on some TV watching. Since we don't have the cable at my house out here, trips home to see the parents present a unique opportunity for me to spend a few days steeping in hour after hour of mindless video stimulation.

   I saw my first ad for Floam (warning: clicking the link will take you to the floampage, where the floamvertisement will play in its floamtirety) while I was there. I saw it shortly after seeing my first Floam, which my neice had received as a stocking stuffer. I don't really have a lot to say either way about Floam itself, but I will say that the ads are floamtastic!

  I'm sure this is old news to all of you cable-watchers, but humor me because it's all new to me and I never imagined such a world of wonder. Jesus, Floam just makes everything better! Use it to decorate your bike! Weatherstrip your house! Serve it in a casserole! (Caution: Do not serve it in a casserole. Pregnant women and nursing mothers should avoid contact with Floam.)

  Also, I saw those ads for Enzyte, which is a revolutionary over-the-counter herbal supplement that is supposed to make your penis bigger. Except the ads never come right out and say that. They just think it. Real loud.

  I know I posted a while back about how internet gambling is now legit enough to buy honest-to-god ad time, so I suppose it was just a matter of time before this happened. I looked up Enzyte (not that I was, you know, interested for myself or anything....) and it turns out that it costs a hundred bucks for a month's supply. And as far as I can tell, the manufacturer is prohibited from making any direct claims about whether Enzyte can enhance one's manly portions. The ads are heavy on subtext, light on details. They feature a disturbing character named Smiling Bob whose face possesses a permanent lunatic full-teeth-and-gums smile, and he is seen doing things like golfing really well and also dressing up as Santa. The latter is supposed to be rendered less troubling by the fact that we see a line of adult women lining up to sit on Santa's lap, but one has to wonder what department store would stand for that sort of thing. Anyway, the ads don't really have to say what the magic pills are supposed to do because you already know the script from every other unwanted email you've ever received. No word on whether or not it can refinance your home or help you lose weight fast.

  Penis pills are a brilliant idea for so many reasons; First of all, I can't think of anything else for which men would agree to pay $100 a month for the rest of their lives based on a hint that it might actually do something. Even better, even if the product doesn't do anything, nobody is going to ask for their money back. Can you imagine what the court case would look like if they did?

Attorney: "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I direct your attention to Exhibit A, photograph one, labeled "Before." Take a good look. And now, I direct your attention to photograph two, labeled "After." As you will no doubt agree, the promised results are, shall we say, somewhat lacking."
Plaintiff: "Hey!"
Juror #1: "Can we see 'before' again?"
Attorney: "Certainly."
Juror #4: "He's right. Same size and just as crooked, too."
Plaintiff: "That's normal!"
Judge: "Counsel will please advise his client against any further outbursts in this courtroom."
Attorney: "I apologise on my client's behalf, your honor. He is suffering from emotional distress as a result of the product's lackluster performance. Now he is faced with the troubling reality of living the rest of his life knowing that his manly portions will never be any larger than they are right now.
Juror #11: "Like a 'right turn only' arrow..."
Plaintiff, head in hands, voice muffled:"Oh dear god."
Attorney: "You see? You see what they've done to this man? Do you see what their false promises and snake-oil cures have done to this poor, desperate little man?"

I just can't see anybody going through with that. Ergo, it's the perfect scam!

  So today’s internet scam is tomorrow’s legitimate business is next year’s globe-spanning empire. Which means the time is ripe for my brilliant million-dollar idea, the Smart Pill™, an idea that I got from this old vaudeville routine:

1: “Hey, you’re the guy who sold me those Smart Pills!”
2: “Another satisfied customer. What can I do for you, friend?”
1: "Those were nothing but sugar pills!"
2: "See, you're getting smarter already!"

  Of course I'd only charge $50.00 for a month's supply. I think that's what the market will bear. After all, it's not as if I'm promising it will make your penis bigger.

Actually, now that I think about it, fifty bucks is probably too much...

Posted by flamingbanjo at January 10, 2006 05:53 PM