The J22 Project

What two words do men fear most? Deadbeat dad? Tax Audit? Alimony Payment? Paternity suit? Actually, if you poled a few of your fellow fellows, the answer would probably be simple, and quite pathetic. Indeed, the two words that most males won't cop to, not even on a drunken bet, are...erectile dysfunction. Be it the result of age or some certifiable hang-up, nothing screams 'licensed wuss' to your average dude better than a non-medial malady of the personal pile driver. Since the very beginning of the impotence debate, around the time a certain Dr. Ruth titillated a nation with her use of the medical terms for genitalia, guys have been worried about their wang. Any problem with the peter, says the experts, and you're to see your doctor, discuss it with your significant other, and realize that it has nothing to do with how macho or sexually adept you are. Right, and that gal who just dumped you still wants to be 'friends'.

For so long, we've been force-fed a feeling that the occasional crotch calamity is no big deal that it's now a commonplace complaint. Indeed, every sex farce film has a scene where a regular Juaned Don loses his lumber while diddling a delicious dame. But does our bodacious bit of poon storm out of the bathroom stall and pull up her knotted knickers? No. As a matter of fact, the only thing she puts on is her best puppy dog pout and then purrs that most non-cruel of clichés that purports to solve the shame - "It's doesn't matter, honey. It happens to EVERYONE now and again". And by the looks of the ads during football games and at the beginning of every hardcore DVD, our one night stand speaks the truth. There must be veritable nations of men out there with far too pliable pud, if the rise in popularity (pun intended) of both medically proven and medicine show suspect shaft stiffeners and performance enhancers is any actual gauge. This boner balm is flying off store shelves faster than horse steroids during Spring Training.

Actually, it's all Viagra's fault. For years, skin mags have had seedy backpage ads that claimed a cure for the uncommonly drooping dick. Supposedly used by the sex industry to make their meat puppets last longer on camera, many a teenager has spent their fast food salary on numbing creams and heating lotions, all in the pursuit of the perfect pecker. And while some of those prick placebos may have worked - from a pure novelty standpoint, perhaps - they were addressing the outer, not the inner issue. What many men really needed was a way of getting a neverending stiffee, and they weren't about to insert inside themselves a Flip Wilson style penile pump (basically, a low rider for the loins) to prolong the passion. But with the invention of that little blue pill, and its super-powered competition, Cialis and Levitra, anyone could get their slumbering summer sausage back in business. And if you weren't suffering from some manner of stunted shuttlecock, a dose before bedtime provided an extra bit of emphasis in the erotica department.

Of course, these under the counter medications required a doctor's prescription to enjoy, and in our days of delightfully backwards health care, not everyone has access to an emergency room, let along a private practitioner who can dole out the crotch candy. So a whole underground industry of grass roots rod rectifiers has sprung up, each one proclaiming their superiority in the holistic herbal hierarchy. Now, everyone knows the adult industry never misses a chance to jump on the Johnson bandwagon, and now at least two major companies have their own version of member moonshine. Vivid has Herbal Vivid (and some very anatomically correct advertisements showing exactly how it's supposed to work) and Hustler features Herbalo products at its online store. Now, Jenna Jamison, in association with her own Club Jenna and Wicked Picture, has produced her own wiener redeemer. Called J22, it's pimped as the "100% Natural...Secret to Intense Sex". And while it fancies up the format by referring to itself as an "Enhancer", the truth is that it's an ED special, plain and simple. Heck, Bob Dole and Mike Ditka should be standing in line to try this so-called tool tonic.

In the omnipresent desire to cover all aspects of the porn industry, X Critic scored a sample of Ms. Jameson's private stock, and yours truly put it through its paces in the service of journalistic integrity - and a few nights of fun with the Misses. Now, far be it from the Dirge to delve deeply into his sex life, but let's just say that he and the little woman have often stunned the Casbah, and a six of the seven wonders of the ancient world throughout the course of their twenty-two years of interpersonal intimacy (damn you, Hanging Gardens of Babylon!). Though perfectly positioned within the demographical dynamic that apparently lives and breathes by peter problems, Mr. D has never had any unmanly moments. When required to step up to the plate and bang one out of the park, he has never needed to cork his bat. Sure, in the grand scheme of things, there have been times when that full night of pleasure has been more like a few fun minutes, but for the most part, Disco and Disca Dirge have enjoyed a wonderfully healthy life of suck and fuck. So the use of J22 was purely for "experimental" purposes, to see if there was any physical reality to the claims made by the manufacturers of J22.

First, a little about the product itself. J22 comes in sealed silver packets, two per box and retails for around $30. Each packet contains two doses, no more than about ½ ounce of total product inside each pouch. When opened, the first thing you notice is the piquant aroma. Indeed, if you don't find J22 helping you in the hog hardening department, it may actually make a tasty curry dish if ground up and sprinkled on some cubed chicken pieces (though this is not it's intended use). The next thing you realize is that the actual J22 itself looks like miniaturized buckshot, the kind that country kids love to level at traffic signs along the rural roadways of our nations backwoods. Now, according to the direction, you are supposed to swallow from between ½ and a whole packet of these bawdy BBs around 60 minutes before doing the boot knock. After the allotted time has passed, your privates are supposedly to be primed and empowered, ready to rock and roll like a super steely man of action.

Intrigued, and with their carnal curiosity peaked, Mr. and Mrs. D made arrangements for a few specific nights of naughtiness, specifically to verify J22's claims. For control, we first 'did it' sans supplement - and it was fine, as always. Very hot. Lots of sex noises, and the memory of machinations past floating up before our eyes as the evening's Eros wore off. A few days later (let's face it, recuperation time increased with...umm...maturity), it was time to put J22 to the true test. Yours truly, feeling fit as a fiddle and ready for lewd loving', popped open a packet and measured out a ½ dose. Swallowed with some water, a rather non-stimulating session of sitting around and waiting occurred next. But once 60 minutes had sauntered by, as the Thing would say, it was clobberin' time.

Experiment #1 - The Dirge, Mrs. Dirge, a half packet of J22
Honestly, there was a big difference initially. Without sounding stupid or strange, my entire lower extremities felt very warm and, oddly, very calm. The erection part - which again, has never been a problem - was pronounced, but there wasn't the usual overt sensitivity that usually accompanied an arousal. Indeed, once the action started (and there will be NO position-by-position breakdown, thank you. Mr. and Mrs. D are not professionals, nor are they willing to drop the entire veil of privacy for a X Critic Blue Room piece), the Dirge's staying power was definitely increased. J22 seemed to mellow, or 'flatten' the feeling in the penis, and make the stimulation from both oral and penetration feel fantastic, but controllable.

After over an hour of incredibly intense sex (no boasting or bragging...just trying to tell the truth here), there was indeed a money moment. Now, it wasn't the best I've ever had, but it was pretty interesting considering the level of excitement throughout the course of the canoodling. If J22 softens the sensation to make you last longer, it also tends to tighten your urge to ejaculate, making the orgasm less explosive and more prolonged. Afterwards, the oversexed sensation lingered for about 2 hours, and there was even some additional amour between the partners Dirge. But during its first foray into full rig friggin' mode, J22 came up a winner. It made the sex more concentrated and really helped in the stamina arena.

Experiment #2 - The Dirge, a half packet of J22
Take the Dirge's advice - don't waste your J22 on a session of autoerotic stimulation. Maybe it has a preference for a partner, or doesn't work well when flying solo, but a lot of the positives that appeared during the first experiment were no shows during the visit from Rosy Palm and her five sisters. Oddly enough, it was like the J22 knew it was percolating in service of some one armed acrobatics. The minute any member manipulation occurred, the warming sensation would vanish, and the level of excitement would fluctuate between Experiment #1 levels and a return to normal, non-enhanced function. In the end, the entire enterprise was so humiliating and humbling that the Dirge ditched grooming the baloney pony and went to sleep.

Experiment #3 - The Dirge, Mrs. Dirge, a half packet of J22 each
One of J22's many claims is that it works well for both men AND women. Now, Mrs. Dirge doesn't need a great deal of erotica encouragement. When she gets in the mode, batten down the hatches and get ready for one horny hurricane. But for the sake of clarity and completion, we both decided to drop those miniature passion pebbles before another journey to joy junction. After waiting the prescribed hour and setting the proper atmosphere, it was time to sign off on the meat beat manifesto. For the Dirge himself, the sensation was similar to a combination of Experiment #1 and #2. For a while, the original mellowing and magnification were present. At other times, the feeling seemed to wane and even disappear. A check of the empty packet revealed the same lot number and expiration date, so it wasn't the product itself. Perhaps, after three doses, the Dirge's physiology had started to adapt to, or even reject, the infusion of Jenna's 15 herbs and spices (doing the Colonel 4 better!). In either case, the pop shot was friskier this time, less hampered by the organic organ grinding from Experiment #1.

As for Mrs. Dirge, well, the jury is also out. She did claim that the J22 made her feel less inhibited and more free, but this could also be the placebo effect of trying something unusual or tantalizing for the first time. She claimed no change during oral or penetration, and felt no significant alteration in the intensity or power of her own earthquaking climax. Indeed, except for a more open attitude, the J22 didn't really affect Mrs. D. physically. After the lovin' however, she did claim to still be excited, quite capable of another mambo in the marital bed. The Dirge, however, was suffering from another type of dysfunction - drowsiness. It's not easy being middle aged, let alone having so much sex this late in the connubial game.

Overall, then, The Dirge would have to give J22 a real recommendation. It is possible that, with more samples and altered dosage sizes, some genuinely interesting events could be had inside the boudoir. At least on the male side of the sex aide, there was a definite physical reaction. There was a general radiance of heat centered in the groin area, and direct stimulation to the dick did not lead to any problematic premature parameters. Indeed, J22 seems to work - at least some of the time. And like I said, if you had more than just a few free samplings, you could jerry-rig the quantity to truly test its tool tolerances.

So the next time your wife wishes for wood, and all you can provide is some sagging sap, when you long to stay inside your partner for longer than it takes to find a comfortable spot on the sofa, if you enjoy error-free sex and want to amplify it just the smallest, subtlest amount, you could do a lot worse than J22. It may not be a substitute for those scientifically established cures for impotence, but for us weekend warriors, it truthfully puts a nicely sharpened, if often unpredictable point on our interpersonal pencil. And sorry ladies, but you'll just have to go back to fantasizing about Chris Meloni to get your gal glands going. J22, at least in this unempirical exercise, is not about to replace your rampant imagination. If you're like the Dirge, everyday your email in box is blanketed with enough claims for cocksureness that you wonder how they get away with making such ludicrous, flim-flam pronouncements. But in the case of J22, there is some truth to the carnival barking. It may not match the 4-hour hard-ons of Cialis or Levitra, but when it comes to tweaking your occasionally sedate slap and tickle, this product is a winner.

- Disco Dirge