I don’t understand either…
But I think he made him explode with his mind…
Alright you stars of porn, lets go ahead and take 5 and gather around. Stop your threesums, put your cable repairman outfit back on Ron, and for god’s sake you people over there leave that horse alone and get over here, this is serious business. Now listen! It has come to our attention that one of you had a stinky HIV test. Yeah! We’re not pointing any fingers but lets just say if any of you have rode bareback within the last 30 days you might wanna go wash up. So for the next few weeks we’re gonna deal with this problem, do some paperwork and see how to move forward, so for the time being everybody is on a mandatory 30 day leave of absence, so get on out there and enjoy the sun, oh, and use a condom huh?
The porn industry came to a screeching halt last night after one of their very own tested positive for HIV, just a few weeks after the overseers of PornLand decreed that “all inhabitants of the land of porn shall be tested on every eve of thy lord’s full moon or every 30 sunrises, whichever occurs first or is easier to remember to make sure that thine loins are’st clean and no filth shall thee pass to another” by making them register on the Sexual Health Database for porn types, where, we at Van Full of Candy decided to register as porn stars (see image below). But unfortunately for them, filth has beeen passed, and I’m guessing that some sort of blood letting of a goat is going to happen sometime soon to get the billion dollar golden goose to start flappin’ its wings again. They also did not release the name, age or sex of said infectee. What a fun waiting game for those who may have starred with him and or her or him/her.
So what does this mean? Thousands of out-of-work bumpers-of-ugly will be hitting the unemployment lines looking for work, REGULAR work !! Don’t you see people? This is great news !! In some city, at some company a full fledged porn star man or woman will be looking for work, and in one of those companies, one of them will be hired, and in the place where they get hired there’s an empty cube where this porn star will sit, and if you or I are lucky, it will be next to us. Looks like Monday mornings at the coffee machine just got a WHOLE lot bettah !! Well … except for the HIV.
Last week science made a wild ass guess about how many things exist and we were just supposed to let that shit slide…
A paper published last week by the scientific journal PLoS Biology, which is a complete fucking guess, says that there are 8.7 million species on Earth. Of which, they completely make up that there are about 7.77 million species of animal, probably 298,000 of plants, give or take, more or less your guess is as good as mine 611,000 fungi, who the fuck knows 36,400 protozoa and completely made up 27,500 chromists. Of course, only seven percent of those fungi, 12 percent of the animals and 72 percent of plants have actually been identified, but why the fuck not just say that there’s so many fucking more?
Now obviously, there’s a shit ton of things crawling around on this out of control mud ball, flying around at fantastical speeds through the vast voidiness, but only we, only humanity, has the arrogance to think that they can just throw out a number with little to no basis in reality and say “Shit yeah, that’s what is. AH GOTS THUMBS, MUTHA!”
Apparently before this new and improved absolute total of all that there is, the previous estimates by other completely guessing sciencemans has ranged from 3 million to 100 million. So why then is this guesstimate any more legit than the 100 million number? Why do these fellahs get to say that “86 percent of all terrestrial species and 91 percent of all marine species have yet to be discovered, described and catalogued” and they get to be treated with any more respect or seriousness than the guy at the bus stop screaming about how he just discovered a new race of invisible mites living in his toes?
If you answered anything other than “Butterflies stole my meatloaf!” while hitting yourself in the thighs with paper plates, you’re wrong.
So I’ve decided I’m going to beat science at it’s own insane game: wildly speculating about shit you can’t even begin to know and calling it science!
Painstakingly researched and documented wild guess number one: there are more than sixty hundred trillion batrillion microscopic road warriors living in our intestines, battling infectious disease which keeps us from being eaten alive by the hostile surroundings of Earth’s atmosphere. It is only after the last of these wild, post apocalyptic survivors, invisible to the naked eye, is killed by the forces of this otherwise inhospitable planet, that we finally die.
Carefully examined and documented complete bullshit made up fact B: When we die, a series of small explosions are triggered inside our cardio vascular system which trap our collected demons, keeping them from escaping into into your attending physician and taking over the physical realm. These tiny “vein bombs” are implanted in each of us by Jesus himself, immediately before we are born.
Sober, reasoned, completely ridiculous insanity that I’m presenting as truth Sigma: There are as many as 188 quadrillion or as few as 9 flavors of pudding still completely undiscovered by man.
There, I’ve just published a paper in the VFoC Journal of Sciencesque Factish Foundings. And my body is completely hollow and inhabited by a race of intangible plastic army men who have been locked in combat with the robots in my leg for what they perceive as six thousand years, with nary a resolution in sight!
And that’s entirely as plausible as almost anything else that these “respected” sciencers get paid to crap out.
Hey you, portly meat child, put down that bacon glazed ham turkey and mash your thick, meaty fingers into the keyboard over here, I’ve got something to tell you: You’re not okay!
Did you know that people hate fats. They do. Especially fat children. Nobody hates anything in this world more than they hate rotund rotoddlers. It’s uncomfortable for everyone involved when you have to tell a friend who is the parent of an oval kid how “handsome” of “beautiful” or “not sweating profusely from merely existing” their baby is. Your non-tinyness isn’t just hurting your young circulatory system, but our ability to see your parents as anything but grossly neglectful.
Fortunately, one intrepid author is using the fat kid’s second biggest weakness (behind marshmallow covered chocolate stuffed with marshmallows), to trick them into pulling their shit together: books. Books are to fat kids what friends are to regular, popular, healthy and well adjusted “normal” kids. Fat kids trust books because they take them to places that they might otherwise have to use their over burdened legs to discover. And since most overweight youth can’t get to the outside world to be told how they can never be loved as they are, the wonderful world of self loathing and poor body image are brought home to their cake plates, in the form of “Maggie Goes on a Diet” by Paul Kramer.
See Maggie is a fat little red headed 14 year old girl who:
“has so much potential that has been hiding under her extra weight.”
Because as everyone knows, you can never reach your full potential if your gut keeps getting in the way. It’s so far, and your arms are so heavy with internally stored ice cream! You see, your personal and professional successes are directly associated to your Body Mass Index. Think of it as your ranking as a human being. The lower, the less disgusting.
“This inspiring story is about a 14-year old who goes on a diet and is transformed from being overweight and insecure to a normal sized teen…”
Now, to be fair, Maggie almost IS a normal sized teen, and more than likely in the next hand full of years, WILL be. One in three American kids is overweight or obese, so the Largeican Americans are going to stop being the minority soon and then the thins are going to have to watch their tender, bony asses.
“Through time, exercise and hard work, Maggie becomes more and more confident and develops a positive self-image”
Everyone knows that fatties hate themselves, so they eat. Then they hate themselves for eating, and they eat some more, which makes them fatter and more eatie. Books like these, telling fat people that they’re fat and will never be happy until they stop being fat are exactly what is going to save our children. No amount of responsible parenting or thoughtful food choices for your children can do as much to benefit your child as a picture book with “normal” sized kids calling a little cartoon girl “fatty” and “chubby”.
So while this book isn’t due out until October it’s already gotten people (fat people) up in arms (fat arms). People who say that targeting the insecurities of young girls and enforcing negative body image stigmas is somehow “wrong” and “evil” and “yum, butter!” But those people are clearly just trying to invent a problem where there is none. Of course, author Paul Kramer knows that a 14 year old shouldn’t be dieting, in fact, he told Fox News that very thing.
“I’m not advocating, never did, that any child should go on a diet.” said Mr. Kramer while apparently not promoting his book about a dieting teen.
The title of this blog comes from a very popular “Tweet” and mixes it with us, Van Full of Candy, and a cheeseburger slinging clown. It’s sort of a creepy-trifecta right off the bat. The “Tweetsy” I’m referring to is one that starts off … #ThatAwkwardMomentWhen … and people put all kinds of awkward moments behind it. One of the more popular “moments” is, well, here it is below that I came across just today …
First of all, thank you Mr. Boner5 for expressing your disappointment in not receiving any candy, and second of all, please know that if you get in our van, there’s more candy than you can handle. And hey dear reader, why not click on “Follow” for Mr. Boner, I’m sure he’d like some company. Now where was I? Ahh yes, explaining shit.
So the title comes from a conglomeration of a few things, beginning with an article I read on Time Magazine’s website today. It was about the 10 creepiest product mascots that they have so deemed worthy of this title. After going through their list I’d have to agree with most of them, but I would have added Fred Rated to the mix. Anyway, the two that stood out to me were the original Hamburglar and the original Ronald McDonald. So being the diligent purveyor of information that I am, I went on a research binge and came across something that even I hadn’t seen before. It’s about how Ronald McDonald skates through your neighborhood, offers your kids burgers and holds their hand as they skip off to McDonald’s for gawd knows what even though mommy said not to.
So dear readers, what have we learned from this PSA video? We’ve learned that when a strange man driving a van offers you candy, take a moment and think of what dear old mom said, then look at the van, and smell the candy, and listen to the driver’s voice. If it looks unlegit, and smells unlegit, and sounds unlegit, then get your ass in that van and eat as much candy as possible, because heck, a van full of candy is your favorite place in town, just like the commercial says. Beep beep !!
I don’t want to say I told you so. I mean, I’ve told you time and time again about how I hate to be the one to tell you that I told you. If there’s one thing that anyone who knows me can tell you that I’ve told them is that the thing that I enjoy least in the world is telling them that I don’t want to tell them that I told them I wouldn’t tell them…
But I fuckin’ told you so.
Amy Winehouse: murdered by sobriety! Case closed! How is it case closed? How do we now know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Amy was killed in cold blood by the absence of alcohol? Because the family “says toxicology tests show there were no illegal drugs in her system when she died”.
Air tight, non-smoking gun of smoke filled guns. No illegal drugs in her system = assassination by lack of alcohol. One plus one still equals two, does it not? … Does it not? It’s been a long time since I’ve had a math class, things may very well mean different things than how I remember them.
Absolute definitive proof that a lack of alcohol killed our Ms. Winehouse… Especially when you consider that according to the tests “alcohol was present” in her system. FURTHER PROVING that quitting alcohol “cold turkey” killed her!
“Abstinence gave her body such a fright they thought it was eventually the cause of her death,” a family source told The Sun, one of Brittain’s always trustful newsesque Tabloid publications.
See, her family still believes that Amy dropping the sauce “completely for three weeks” was such a “shock for her tiny body” that it simply could not cope with “such a dramatic withdrawal”. And they are clearly pointing to the absolute lack of illegal drugs in her system as proof positive that she was killed by not drinking alcohol… So, the fact that alcohol was found in her system can mean only one thing, and is the final piece to the puzzle of the death of Amy Winehouse. TO THE VFoC SCIENCE LAB OF IMPOSSIBLE OCOURANCES!
Amy Winehouse, singer of songs, drinker of things; seeing that her life was in grave danger at the mouth of a bottle, decided to muster the power of her famed self control and restraint, and kick booze right between the o’s. So, the first several weeks was spent disposing of all of the alcohol that heretofore had been her only source of nourishment. This process went on for some time, unfortunately spilling into her professional life, as evidenced by video of her stumbling and incoherent during her aborted European tour approximately a month before her death, which was clearly brought on by the exhaustion of humanely disposing of so very much alcohol back into the wild.
Then, as the weeks of clean living piled up, her treacherous body, unwilling to live as her will demanded, began to turn against her. Seeing clearly that alcohol would not be provided externally any longer, as Amy’s unwavering determination refused to waver in the face of waverable circumstances, her organs knew that they had to begin producing their own fermented good times. And so her liver, in conjunction with her pancreas, kidneys, large intestine, spleen and the master mind of it all, her appendix began the process of transforming her internal fluids into alcohol.
Being in perfect tune with all of her various inner workings, Amy was immediately aware of the nefarious plot of her internal moving parts. Knowing that the mutinous squishy parts of her could not be reasoned with, and determined to never again be turned to the drunk side, Amy understood what she had to do. Focusing her essence, channeling her universal flow and harnessing the forces of being as only one who has achieved a 407th level consciousness as Amy had, can, choosing to simply halt her corporeal functions before being corrupted again by her easily corruptible flesh.
So weep not for Amy, she was ultimately a hero, saving the world from drunken organs that would certainly have eventually over run her body and taken over the world, their unquenchable thirst driving it ever forward until it enveloped this world and eventually, swallowed whole all of reality.
Thank you Amy, thank you for your service to sentient beings everywhere.
And I fuckin’ told you so.
Today was an historic day as the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial was unveiled to the public today at the National Mall in Washington D.C. . It is an awesome 30 foot granite statue of MLK Jr. showing his strength, and it’s based upon the “I have a dream” speech.
Perhaps the way I view the world is a bit skewed by prescription medication and high volumes of whiskey, but the first two things that came to my mind this morning when I saw the memorial was …
The fact that both Star Wars and RUN DMC were two of my favorite forms of entertainment growing up, I think they totally compliment the memorial. Two no nonsense figures who kicked ass and made it through hardships and tribulations. One in a futuristic setting who flied spaceships and comes to realize the importance of being part of a group and helping for the common good, and another who overcame the streets of Hollis, Queens, NY and rose above to become “The Greatest Hip Hop Group of All Time”. So WTF am I trying to say here? I really have no idea, except, I’m glad MLK is dissin’ us, “Cause it’s like that, and that’s the way it is … HUHHHHHH !!”