Consider this oddity spotted recently on CNN, under the headline Male enlargement ads prompt spam rage:

"He said his firm does not send spam but blamed a rival firm which he said routes much of their unsolicited bulk e-mail through Russia and eastern Europe. Mackay said such firms gave a bad name to the penis enhancement business."

Now let's go back and reread that last sentence again, and see if anyone else in the class has the same reaction I did when I read it:

"Mackay said such firms gave a bad name to the penis enhancement business."

Anyone reading this site whose response wasn't "The penis enhancement business had a good name?" -- domesticat.net is not for you. Move along now. Close your browser and go back to wherever you came from. While Chris takes great pleasure in quoting Cannibal! at me regularly - "Nobody eat anybody!" - we will not hesitate to consume the brains of the unworthy.

(Pass the fava beans. We're starving over here.)

It's just un-American, really. In America, if a man wants a twenty-six-inch penis, he should be able to open up his local phone book, look under 'Frightening Penis Enlargement' providers, and six hours and $199 later, be so proud of his newly-sized manhood that he runs out to get the word "TRIPOD" tattooed on his left bicep.

Those of us not involved in the industry probably just can't imagine the difficulties faced by legitimate firms in the penis enhancement business. Those pesky morality standards force even the most respectable of companies to take their advertising underground. No billboards, no newspaper advertisements, just the sheer blunt force trauma of millions of electronic advertising blips.

Even the privacy and security of spamming isn't enough any more. Good firms are being forced to stoop to increasingly desperate measures to reach those men who genuinely need enhancement but have nowhere else to turn. As shady penis enhancement firms peddled their quackery to the masses, truly reputable firms had to resort to subject lines full of insinuation instead of plain-spoken, honest truth.

As always, the consumer suffers.

Given such a depressing climate, it's a wonder that owners of even the most reputable firms haven't thrown in the towel. We can only hope that in these times of darkness, they will persevere, because as all men instinctively know, the satisfaction of our demanding American women hinges upon it.

* * * * *

Sotto voce to songstress Jewel: Liked that first single off your album. Caught you on Sessions @ West 54th, and have one message for you: quit trying to sound like a thirteen-year-old or we'll be forced to backhand you like one. You are not Marilyn Monroe; you don't have the breasts. You're far too old and far too grown to sing in that breathy, heavily affected, faux-girlish singing voice. Cassandra Wilson would eat your soul on principle.

Come near me with that faux-childish version of "O Holy Night" again and I won't hold myself responsible for the results.