That Viagra Commercial

I hate that Viagra commercial where the woman is lounging around seductively  half-dressed, discussing Her Man’s penile erection quality.  With an expression everyone has  after a good porking or perhaps  she just smoked some really good weed. And where are the sheets and blankets at? In the washer getting rid of the tell-tell stains of the day no doubt!

Why can’t Her Man just talk about it himself?  Has the Viagra diverted so much blood to his Johnson that it has left him unable to speak?  Or is he in the bathroom with the latest Sports Illustrated Swim-Suit Edition, trying to rid himself of that four-hour-boner that you should contact your doctor about?

Meanwhile, she goes on about the frequency and quality of Her Man’s trouser tents in this coy, yet triumphantly smug way.  It seems as if her talking to the camera is supposed to be like bragging  to  a girlfriend.  A girlfriend who never gets any even low-quality pokes from her man.  A girlfriend that will be so jealous  that she will make her husband get his limber dick down to the doctor’s office for some Viagra, if for no other reason than just to shut her up.

I'm wondering what a commercial for unattached men would go like if they developed a new product like "Guyagra?" For the times when no date is available and you have to take matters into your own hands?

Or Rabbiagra! I mean what middle-aged Jewish Rabbi wouldn't love a nice big Boner to go along with his Corned Beef Sandwich?

I guess we better stick to the classics. Enough people has got themselves in trouble as it is!