By New Times
By Connor Radnovich
By Robrt L. Pela and Amy Silverman
By Ray Stern
By Keegan Hamilton
By Matthew Hendley
By Monica Alonzo
By Monica Alonzo
On Your Knees
The Valley boasts companies that manufacture a wide variety of products, from computer chips to satellite rocket boosters. But a recent and risqué entry into the "Did you know this is made here?" category is making folks blush all over the country, and the world.
Recently profiled in Maxim and Hustler (we read it for the articles, honest), as well as on British talk sensation Graham Norton's show and in various German, Australian and Latin American publications, the little Web-based business in question is virtually unknown in the Phoenix area -- except to its devoted customers, who literally eat it up.
Brent and Lois Myers of Apache Junction started their Web site in 2000 after two years of testing a specialized product made for those who love giving their man a tongue bath, but don't necessarily like to, uh, drink the bath water. Yep, the Myerses invented Semenex, which claims to make semen as "delicious as it is nutritious." Seriously.
For just $24.95 (or $49.95 for a 30-day supply), you can enhance your sweetie's emissions with just one little drink of the powder every night at bedtime. It even works in 24 hours, say the instructions on the Web site.
"That particular activity is a fave of mine," Brent Myers says with an unashamed grin, his long, gray hair hanging in loose, Beach Boy waves. "My wife is the one who cooks my meals, generally, and she noticed that there were definitely things that made it taste worse, so we got to thinking that there must be something that could make it taste good."
The couple first looked extensively into ancient phallus-worshiping religions to find what they had used to make the products of their efforts taste more palatable, but weren't having any success. "We began experimenting with diets heavy in those foods," says Myers. "But there was very little positive change."
After six months of dishes filled with elements such as pineapple, banana and broccoli, Myers says he couldn't find anything that seemed to do a whole lot in Lois' opinion. "At that point, we began combining the elements in various concentrations and combinations," says Myers, "and that's when we started actually seeing results that were like, Wow, that's different.'"
Brent and Lois boiled the magic formula down to eight ingredients: pineapple, broccoli, banana, celery, strawberry, cinnamon, ginger and nutmeg. "When I felt like I had something workable, I decided to test it," says Myers. He enlisted his eager and curious telemarketing co-workers into his test group. Twenty-seven couples tested various concentrations of the product until it worked for everyone. The couples ranged in age from 20s to 40s, and were of all ethnic backgrounds. Some were smokers, some had diets heavy in dairy (a spunk-souring no-no), and some were health nuts. "We wanted to find a formula that would work for everyone, no matter what their diet or lifestyle was," says Myers.
In 2000, Semenex was launched on the Web site (www.semenex.com). Myers says his local church (the Myerses are Mormons) knows about Semenex, and is not exactly thrilled. "They don't have any problems with us, but they were a bit concerned with the sexual nature of the product." Maybe it's the container -- a plastic jug with a logo composed of red lips licking off an opaque, white substance.
In addition to sweetening your nectar, Myers claims that the drink will also "give back to a man what is lost to the man by ejaculation." Namely, vitamins B6 and B12, calcium, magnesium, creatine, selenium and zinc. The Web site even says that semen is perfect for the Atkins diet, with high protein and no carbohydrates.
Incidentally, Myers says that some men claim it increases a man's load, but he hasn't done research on it yet. "I don't believe in a one-product-fits-all mentality. A jack-of-all-trades is a master of none," says Myers.
Myers is adamant that Semenex is not like one of those "enlargement" scam ads stuffing e-mail boxes. "I don't advertise, because the damned product works. I don't need advertising," says Myers.
There is even a money-back guarantee.
Return of The Ricker
Speaking of unexpected things coming out of Phoenix, Rick Schroder, the childhood sweetheart of every girl between the ages of 25 and 35 is moving over into the director's chair, according to an audition notice at a local actor resource center (www.durantcom.com). The notice asks for head shot/résumé submissions for a film titled Black Cloud that is going to be directed by the former heartthrob himself, and filmed in Arizona.
The Ricker (for those of you who missed the Silver Spoons years) disappeared for a while before reappearing on the ABC drama NYPD Blue. Since then, good old Ricky (who now is rumored to hate being called Ricky or "The Ricker" -- sorry, Rick) has been lying low.
The Ricker's audition notice claims that "there are NAME actors attached to this product," and the Internet Movie Database (www.imdb.com) has a list of names attached to the project, all right -- just not any that you have probably heard of. Except for The Ricker himself, and maybe Donofrio -- but it's not Vincent, folks, it's someone named Dino.