Brendan Schaub, Diego Sanchez, and Liver King have all hitched their brand wagons to the latest pseudoscientific fad: blue scorpion venom. Marketed as a miracle remedy for everything from inflammation to injuries, the supplement is already drawing harsh criticism — not for its effectiveness, but because it’s not what it claims to be. In reality, the substance contains no measurable active ingredient and is classified as a homeopathic product — i.e., watered-down nonsense.
Schaub Knows It’s Fake — But Promotes It Anyway
Schaub first mentioned the supposed benefits of blue scorpion venom on The Fighter and the Kid podcast in March. With the enthusiasm of someone pushing MLM protein powder, he claimed the product helped him recover from a torn bicep — an injury that had previously left him unable to hold a baseball glove for his son. According to Schaub, after taking the supplement, he was suddenly bench pressing again.
However, during that same podcast, co-host Bryan Callen challenged the claims and insisted they look into the science. It didn’t take long for the pair to uncover that the company behind the venom has published no research and that the formulation being sold is a “homeopathic” dilution. In other words, it’s water with a story. Even more absurd? In Cuba — where the product originated — it retails for just $0.04. For Western suckers? Over $200.

Homeopathic medications like Blue Scorpion work only as well as sugar pills because they contain virtually no active ingredients. These products are diluted so many times that there’s essentially nothing left of the original substance – you’d need to drink thousands of gallons to get even one molecule of the supposed medicine. Since there’s no actual medicine in the bottle, any improvement people feel comes from the placebo effect (feeling better because you think you’re taking medicine) or from the body naturally healing itself over time. Multiple scientific studies have consistently shown that homeopathic treatments don’t work any better than fake pills with no medicine in them at all.

Despite learning all of this on March 18th, Schaub shamelessly turned around and promoted the product on The Joe Rogan Experience just four days later, boasting about using it morning and night and laughing off any risks by saying the only side effect was “being awesome.”
The blue scorpion saga fits neatly into a pattern of questionable health choices from Schaub, who’s recently made a spectacle of his TRT use, peptide injections, stem cell treatments, and obsessive (often cringe-inducing) bench press content. His form is frequently criticized, and the obsession with repping 225 pounds has become a meme unto itself.
Diego Sanchez Joins the Grift
UFC veteran Diego Sanchez, no stranger to odd health and wellness rabbit holes, also publicly thanked the company on Instagram:
“Thank you @bluescorpionvenom I’m 3 weeks in and feel a 50% decrease in inflammation.”
Sanchez didn’t cite any actual data — just vibes. For a man who’s aligned himself with spiritual gurus, alien meditations, and shadow conspiracies in the past, a vial of imaginary venom likely feels right at home.
Liver King’s Meltdown Promo
Then there’s Liver King, who managed to promote the product while sounding like he was either auditioning for a David Lynch film or spiraling into a public breakdown.
In a barely coherent promo rant, Liver King credited Blue Scorpion with giving him “a new disposition” before launching into a strange monologue involving jail, terroristic threats, mother ships, restraining orders, and free Wi-Fi passwords. All seemingly referencing his arrest over threats he made targeting Joe Rogan. The entire rant read like a fever dream wrapped in toxic masculinity and delusion — which, to be fair, is the Liver King brand distilled.
Here’s a taste:
“You thought the videos would stop, but they will never stop… because, you know, when you fight out of a principle, you’ve got an infinite amount of venom.”
Whatever that means.
A $200 Placebo
Let’s be clear: this “blue scorpion venom” isn’t venom. It’s not a miracle cure. It’s a glorified placebo with a sci-fi name, wrapped in influencer BS and sold at a 5,000% markup to people who think science is optional.
For Schaub, Sanchez, and Liver King, promoting the product isn’t about helping people — it’s about staying relevant and monetizing gullibility. And while it’s one thing to chase internet clout, it’s another entirely to knowingly sell people garbage in a bottle.
If there’s one real venom in this situation, it’s the kind these influencers are injecting into public trust — and the only antidote is skepticism.