How do I go about explaining the NeuroPassion? Let me think. Because I’ve never had the gleeful humiliation of walking into a convenience store and paying for a Hustler, it might be a little difficult to compare. At least it’s easier than checking out at the supermarket with nothing but a carrot and Vaseline.
NeuroPassion bombs the consumer with keywords and strategic bolding. It “helps you push yourself to the limit” because “passion is powerful” and “it’s what gets you up.” Would it help me spell things out more clearly if I told you the original name of this, uhhhh, supplement was NeuroGasm?
Shaped like a Freudian rocket dick in manly Harvard crimson, it’s the potable equivalent of a Porsche or Maserati. Flashy outside, full to the brim with pomp, circumstance, and bullshit. Performance. Passion. Drive. Function. Stamina. Carbonation. When I typed those, did you instantly feel any more driven, passionate, or carbonated? Of course you didn’t, but that’s exactly what NeuroPassion tries and fails to do. This is the liquid version of anyone you’ve ever wanted to punch in the teeth, although better revenge would be giving a bottle of this to one of those people, watching them palm the yielding, yet firm texture and raise it to their lips. Take photos. Ask questions. It’s glaringly awful in design and makes cigars look innocuous in comparison. Inside, the drink is the same color as the outer labels, with a tinny, vitamin-enhanced scent. The nose is blatant prison wine a la Flintstones daily vitamins. And lucky you, you get to drink it. Or just keep it at the back of your nightstand drawer. Your call.
It’s vaguely tropical, vaguely sweet, and tastes like sugar, water, and endless nights alone. Dizzy with misery, you’ll be asking yourself, “Why does this taste like a rejected Cosmopolitan at a sorority bartending class?” And then you’ll realize, glancing at the label and phallic bottle, that you’ve answered your own question. Because it does. This was clearly marketed for people who have an extra $3.39 burning a hole in their pocket and a thirst that lowly pedestrian Vitamin Water simply can’t quench. They want exclusivity and choose to take a break from their organic, raw, cruelty-free coconut Civet-cat water to try this and pay dearly.
NeuroPassion preys on the weak and feasts on the morons who buy into this. It’s less stamina in a bottle and more therapy in a bottle, but unfortunately, all you get is the placebo effect.