Erectile Dysfunction (ED) is probably the only nightmare worse than balding that keeps men of a certain age up at night. There are several multi-million dollar industries dedicated to helping men “fix” the problem, and many of those fixes can get pretty expensive.
But rumors of a new, natural, cheap, and homemade remedy have been swirling around the internet lately; a remedy that is supposed to work just as well:
Italian doctors have been saying for years that simply eating watermelon will turn you into a stallion. Citrulline and Lycopene, found in watermelon, are supposed to relax you and allow more blood flow downstairs, as well as acting as an aphrodisiac. Basically, it’s supposed to work the same as Viagra.
The recipe we found after a quick Google search has you boiling watermelon juice, adding lemon once the mixture has reduced to half, letting cool and taking on an empty stomach. So we asked Jeff, who works in web design and has helped us out on more than one occasion, to try it out for us. He did make us promise to say that a.) his name is not really Jeff, b.) he isn’t really bald, and c.) he doesn’t actually have ED, and agreed to give it a shot.
Jeff hit the farmer’s market, blended up slices of watermelon at about 4 p.m. on a Friday (about three hours before Mrs. Jeff gets home from work), added lemon and put it into the fridge. After the “potion” had cooled, he sat back on his brand new leather couch and took a long drink.
“It’s good,” he says. “Tastes exactly as you would expect it to. Watermelon. And lemon. It’s refreshing.”
Thanks, Jeff.
30 minutes in: “Nothing,” Jeff says. “Absolutely nothing. I actually feel less like having sex than I ever have before. There’s a lot of sugar in watermelon and I think I drank too much. My stomach kind of hurts.”
1 hour in: Jeff sets up rose petals along the doorway leading to the bedroom. He puts a bottle of champagne on ice. He looks at his (not yet) balding dome in the mirror. He turns off the lights and lights candles instead. He puts on music. He puts on his sexiest bathrobe.
He takes off his sexiest bathrobe.
“I don’t think it’s working.”
1 hour and 30 minutes in: Mrs. Jeff comes home. He woos, she giggles. He whispers sweet nothings into her ear, she asks him if he got a promotion at work, and if that’s why he’s in such a good mood?
“No,” he says, “I just feel as though I’m seeing you for the very first time, again.” He leads her by the hand to the bedroom. Music is playing. Candles are flickering. She consents, even without his sexy bathrobe.
3 hours in: Jeff is getting it on. The Barry White album Jeff plays has looped for the second time. The smell of the smoke left by smoldering candles now burnt out hangs in the air.
“Poundtown was the destination,” he says, “and we went there on a magic carpet and never wanted to return. We haven’t had sex, excuse me, made love like that since the nineties.”
Well?
“Well, there you have it.”
It takes weeks to get the wax off of the dresser. But the memories of that night, Jeff says, “Will last a lifetime.”
“But,” he admits to us later, “I think it was the placebo effect more than anything. I didn’t actually feel any different. I was just sitting around and thinking about sex for so long that of course I was in the mood. Thankfully my loving wife still finds me attractive… And just because I’m normally bad at sex, doesn’t mean I have ED. I produce more than enough Citrulline as it is, thank you very much.”
“The only real benefit,” he said, “will be to farmers who will move more crops to keep up with this watermelon craze. So just tell everyone it works to help out the watermelon farmers. Better for people to spend their money on watermelon than Viagra.”
Thanks, Jeff.
