September 25, 2007 at 09:29 PM EDT

This past week, Alex Romero, a choreographer who worked with Elvis Presley on four of his movies, passed away in Los Angeles. He was 94, so chalk it up to “age-related causes” if you will, but I think I know what really killed him: It was those “Viva Viagra” commercials, as seen here.

Of course Elvis fans are outraged, and thus prone to do what fans always do when beloved songs show up inappropriately in commercials: Blame Yoko — or whoever the Yoko equivalent in each instance might be, this time, meaning Priscilla and Lisa Marie. But the King’s daughter is claiming to find the commercials as “revolting” as most everyone else. Elvis didn’t write his own songs (except in a few instances, as with a lot of ’50s-era rockers, where his name was attached purely for publishing-rights purposes), and so the estate has virtually no control over cover versions. (Family duets are another matter.)

There really may be no finite end to this ad campaign, in other words, as long as the estates of legendary songwriters like Doc Pomus and Mort Shuman — who don’t have their own Gracelands as a sanctifying cash cow — are willing to fork over their piece of posthumous propriety. Unless the male masses rise up as one in protest and throw their Viagra onto a funeral pyre of sacrificed virility, be fully prepared to hear more such appropriations. I hate to give anyone any ideas, but I’m thinking (without getting too blue, or at least any bluer than Bob Dole would):

“Inextinguishably Burnin’ Love”
“Love Me… Tender? Ha!”
“Ready-Teddy Bear”
“A Big Hunk of Love” (Do they even really need to rewrite that one?)
“It’s Not Now or Never (Because Any Time in the Next Six Hours Will Do)”
“Suspicious Creases”
“(There’ll Be No) Peace In the Valley (For You Tonight)”
“Always on My Blood-Desaturated Mind”
“There’s No Room to Rhumba in a Sports Car (But Just Room Enough for a Full Afternoon of Foreplay)”
“Wear My Medic-Alarm Pendant Around Your Neck”

addCredit(“Everett Collection”)

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