Archive for November 14th, 2003

Do Penis Enlargement Pills Work?


we assume, all of our readers, the Dowbrigade mailbox continues to fill
with ingenious advertisements for penis enlargement products. Along with
Russian sex slaves, Valium, Xanax and Vicoden Free prescriptions and
my personal favorite, Stop Span and Adult Email, there have recently
been a seemingly uncontrollable proliferation of penis patches, penis
pills and penis pullers, all claiming to enhance my endowment by leaps and

While it is easy to imagine what kind of pathetic insecure idiots
fall for these pitches once, one would think that their supply of suckers
would have dried up by now if there wasn’t SOMETHING to their services.
Or would it?

In the spirit of scientific inquiry, let me present a unique blog, "Do
Penis Enlargement Pills Work?
" (via the always awesome Jay
in which courageous though inept researchers turn themselves into human
guinea pigs, and recount the experience blow by blow, as it were, complete
with empirical measurements and subjective insights into the penis enlargement

Some of you might be wondering, Has the Dowbrigade ever been tempted
to try these products himself? On a completely theoretical plane, our
lack of understanding of how these mysterious pills target one precise
part of the human anatomy would have me worried about unfortunate near-misses
(see photo).

check out "Do Penis
Enlargement Pills Work?

Beware the Grey Panthers


Last night at dinner, following the Thursday
meeting, Dave
was commenting on the exotic culture and social habits of programmers
and software developers. Although he has been hanging out with a
lot of programmers lately, the Dowbrigade is in essence an analog
. When those goofy gearheads get going with the digital lingo,
they might as well be Shuar tribespeople speaking the Aguaruna

along the banks of the Santiago River in the Upper Amazon Basin.
Actually, the Dowbrigade reports feeling more at home among the Shurar
("People")at times than among the collection of strangely developed developers
he has fallen in with lately.

Be that as it may, we asked Dave, who was waxing rather pessimistic
about the state of the industry, what was happening to the
young genius programmers just coming into the game with their brilliant paridigm-busting
epiphanies and limitless post-adolescent energy.  Immediately several
of the greybeards at the table chimed in, almost in unison, "Myth!"

They all agreed, the popular picture of pimply cyber-punks rewriting
the universe was totally a Hollywood invention. "There’s just so much
you have to know," explained Dave, "All of the best software is written
by experienced developers."

The Dowbrigade was crushed.  How could the Iconic Image of Keneau
Reeves as the (now not-so) young genius programmer saving the universe,
not to mention high schoolers reprogramming Defense Department doomsday
programs, young Einstein realizing relativity, and the brute brilliance
of 20-something programmers churning out millions of lines of code in
twisted 96-hour
of caffeine and testosterone-fueled creativity, not be true? Once again,
reality was rearing its ugly head.

However, the more we thought about it, the more it made sense. For sure
there is an art and aesthetic to programming that must be refined over
years of observation and experimentation. It sort of reminded the Dowbrigade
of his tennis game. Between sets of a savage match with Jon Raisz,
Brookline architect, topographer, high school running mate, and 35-year-running worthy
opponent on the other side of a tennis net, the following hypothetical
was proposed:

If each of the years we had been playing were represented by a separate
clone of each of us, and the 35 Dowbrigades had a tournament, that is
the 15-year-old Dowbrigade vs. the 38-year-old Dowbrigade in the first
round, etc., which version would emerge the eventual winner?

After august and profound consideration we agreed that the current incarnations
would clearly sweep the aggregated younger versions.  The wiles
and deception, spins and misdirection shots, and the accumulated court
sense honed over the years would more than compensate, we decided, for
any minute loss of strength or stamina. Vain self-deception? Well, like
programming, the proof is in the pudding.  See you on the courts.

Naked Mole-rats Bare Pain Relief Clues


Who knew these critters even existed? The Dowbrigade must, however
contest the assertion that they are the only know cold-blooded mammals.
I believe
of the girls I dated in college, as well as the vice president, would qualify.
Good news, however, for chronic pain sufferers, although I’d hold onto
my Oxycontin until they work the kinks out of the naked mole-rat treatment.

East African naked mole-rats, the only known cold-blooded mammal, have
shown a rather heated response in lab tests that may have important implications
for treating chronic pain in humans.

The blind, furless creatures that live underground in colonies lack a body
chemical called Substance P, a neurotransmitter normally in the skin that
sends pain signals to the central nervous system. The rats feel no immediate
pain when cut, scraped or subjected to heat stimuli. They only feel some
aches. But when the rats get a shot of Substance P, pain signaling resumes
working as in other mammals.

the University of Illinois at Chicago

Future King says he’s not a Queen


width=”299″ height=”268″ align=”left”>LONDON — In
what is arguably the oddest scandal to hit the British royal family in
recent years, Prince Charles has denied allegations that he and a male
aide were discovered in bed together by a former butler."

“When George knocked and opened the door of one member of the royal family,
he said he almost froze in shock at the sight before him,” Bryan
Smith, George Smith’s brother, told the Mirror in an article published
Nov. 2. “He said it was completely surreal. The royal and the servant
were tucked up under the sheets, lying next to each other.”

the Washington Blade