Top 5 New Year’s Resolutions and Why You Suck If You Do Them

Hey friends, we’d like to apologize for ignoring all of  you for so long, but sometimes the van needs to be taken to a garage and given an overhaul. So forget the apology because what we should have said was … you’re welcome … for recharging our batteries and bringing some really good shit your way for 2012. What is we’re bringing? Quit being nosy and just keep coming back and seeing what the F we’re bringin’ !!

So let’s get to this trendy “resolution” bullshit shall we?

Hop on shuggah !!

1. Lose Weight : Ok fine, sure, we put a few pounds on this last year being the rockstars that we are, but you know what? That’s beautiful weight, the weight you put on when you’re on fire, when you’re closin’ bars and collecting phone numbers. Look, you wanna lose some weight, get rid of that piece of shit significant other that’s holding you back … instant +/- 100-200 lbs. of weight off your shoulders. You can thank me later.

2. Quit Smoking : Quit smoking cigarettes PERIOD !! You look hot while you do it, but

Can I bum a smoke?

you look like an Auschwitz victim when you’re done with that last pack of Marlboro’s. Cigars and pipes … that’s a different story. I just got a new pipe for Xmas and all I can tell so far is that, I look smart when I do it, it smells handsome and it doesn’t have tar and formaldehyde, so … yeah … quit smoking goddamn cigarettes !!

Yeah right !!

3. Quit Drinking : HAHAHAHAAAHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHHHHAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAH … oh … stop, my stomach hurts, holy fuck !!!!

HAHHHAHAAAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHHAHHHAHAHHA …. WHoooooooooo … HAHAHAHA !! Ok fine !! I’ll try to stop … drinking … wheatgrass.

4. Get Out of Debt : Resistance is futile you pathetic Non-American piece of … listen, get 3-5 credit cards, max them out and be like the rest of us … get out of debt … psh !! You know you need that thing that you can order on the internet. Order it !!!

5. Spend More Time with Family : Remember just a few short weeks ago when you woke up to the anxiety of driving to your parent’s house where your crazy aunt and 150 year old grandfather were going to be sitting around a dry turkey, boxed stuffing

Yay! Momma made turkey in a bucket !!!

and the freeze dried dysfunction of all the holiday gatherings of Xmas past? Exactly !! This one will cost you more in therapy that you’ll run up on #4′s credit card, which will eventually put you in bankruptcy with bill collectors reminding you several times a week.

HAPPY FUCKING NEW YEAR !!!

GIANT Size Uncanny X-Apendages? Science Says: Shape Matters

Evolution, it’s happening right now, right under our stupid little noses, which will naturally one day evolve the ability to smell color so that the blind can understand rainbows.

But yesterday, Science thought it would share what it had found out about evolution happening a little farther under our noses. Around the area that I’ve often refered to as the “nose of the pelvis”. Ask anyone, that’s what I call it.

Genitals and Science: two of our favorite topics here at Van Full of Candy converging in one handy study. If only alcohol had somehow been involved in these findings it would have been a perfect storm of topicry. But really, when ever there’s a story of the study of the evolution of beetle genitalia, it’s pretty likely that alcohol was in there at some point, and more likely at the genesis of the idea. And not surprisingly when it’s nerds examining groin importance, the first finding is that size doesn’t matter. Predictable nerds. Shape, these minisculely hung lab hermits at Indiana University say, is what matters more in genitalogical evolution.

The genitals of tomorrow, TODAY!

Now, many of us have seen more than our own particular configuration. Whether it be at he gym, in the pelvic inspection office you work in or at your weekly orgy pot luck get togethers, we’re seen several other varieties of our own style of bits. In those instances when you have seen someone else’s unmentionables, either by unfortunate chance, or by very careful observation finally bearing fruit… crotch fruit… You have likely seen something that both horrified and intrigued you and then horrified you again.

A penis bent at an impossible angle, boggling your mind at what positions this unfortunate might have to maintain in order to accomplish what could charitably be called “humpin’”. Or perhaps labia so out of control you can’t be certain it’s not growing toward you every time you take your eye off of it, leaving you in a horrible position of not wanting to look away, while at the same time wanting nothing more in the world than to look away and burn your top layers of eye off.

Those, are apparently evolved genitalia.

Now, no where in this study or article does it SAY that. The research and findings are based entirely on “data from scarab beetle populations”, but I like to think that I’m merely extrapolating the next obvious conclusion based on my general lack of knowledge and daring leaps in logic that is truly the basis for all advancements in the understanding of our world around us. Only I seem to have the bravery to call these knotted, floppy bits of confusing flesh what they seem to be, a great leap forward in future boning.

According to these findings in beetles, which, as we all know, share over 99% of the genetic markers of humans*, genital divergence between species is noticable in at little as 50 years of “genital evolution”. Which naturally got me to thinking, which generally speaking is never any good for anyone.

All New, All Different Genitals!

The X-Man; follow me on this one. Mutants in the X-Men line of comicy books as produced by the Marvel company, are often refered to as the “next step in human evolution”. These X mans first appeared in the Marvel brand comiced book “The X-Men #1″ in 1963, NEARLY 50 years ago. So in addition to the strange and unusual powers that these mutant threats possess, you can add strange and unusual junks in the worn on the outside of their pants, trunks! Just extrapolating from the powers that we know these mutants possess I can probably fairly accurately imagine the horrible mutant penis powers they have concealed from the public. Wolverine and his three metal dongs, springing from his hips on command being just the tip of the penisberg!

It all used to be so easy. We all knew that when the pants came off, everything would work itself out just fine. But now, science tells us that even that is no guarantee anymore. Way to go science, just because you weren’t getting any was no reason for you to go and make me wary of potential interconnectivity issues I may have with the lady friend I bring home after a night of plying her with “get ta know ya” juice at my local alcohol room. How I miss the good old days when my only worry was whether or not she was going to pass out before she threw up on me, or throw up on me before she passes out… Simpler times…

* Likely not true, but don’t quote me one way or the other. But if you do want to quote me, feel free to use this one: “You won’t be enslaving the beautiful Nymphomians TODAY, Evil General Gross! Prepare to be pummeled about the face and neck by the Amazing POWER ROD!”

Articles Schmarticles … Show Us The Boobs !!!

When I think of great reading material the only true publication that jumps out at me without even giving it a second thought is Playboy. Month after month, year after year they churn out some of the  most interesting and in depth articles covering the gamut from polictics to Super Bowl MVPs, from how to get your woman off in 30 seconds to tips for deep frying a turkey on Thanksgiving. And in some circles “deep frying a turkey” just happens to be a term for getting your woman off involving Crisco in a bathtub with a turkey baster, so you see, they’re pretty damn smart without even knowing it. So you could probably understand my utter glee when I discovered that the double edition, holiday anniversary issue of Playboy for Jan/Feb 2012 was going to feature Elmore Leonard and George Pelecanos … HOLY SHIT !!! Not to mention the 20 greatest cocktails and cars of the year … CARS OF THE FUCKING YEAR PEOPLE !!!

With that gleam in Jill's eyes, Mark knew it was Deep Fry Time !!

The truth of the matter is, without Playboy, I wouldn’t even know what “cocktail” actually meant unless it had the words Pabst Blue Ribbon painted on the glass with an all American red, white and blue label to let me know that it was worthy of pouring down my gullet. Cock … tail … to the untrained ear that could really be misconstrued as some sort of weird rooster appendage, or even worse, a tail that looked like a … you get the idea. So thank you Playboy, thank you for making a silly layman like me into a cultured sophisticate looking refined when I order a Vieux Carre at the Keefer when I’m jet-setting in BC, or when I make simple conversation about how one should never even THINK of mentioning the Bentley GT V8 in the same breath as the Carrera 4 GTS, two completely different animals, and if you don’t understand the subtleties then please excuse yourself from this conversation sir. Oh, and apparently some drunk chick who’s spent the last 2 years failing to make it to court hearings got paid a cool million for showing us her tits. Yay America!

This Didn’t Happen Today in History — December 16th

December 16th 1362 –

King Gretch the Least Boil Covered, ruler of Low Slopshire, was propped up in the window of Pox Castle to gurgle incoherently at his dead and dying subjects for what turned out to be his final address. His feverish ramblings meandered from the subject of the appropriate waiting period after the death of a spouse to engage in bestial congress, to a detailed list of the exact color and location of all of the open wounds festering on his body, and the names that he called them when he was alone late at night and the sounds of his subjects’ death rattles cascading across the plains paused briefly enough for him to contemplate their miserable existence.

Midway through his description of the demon floating before him, just outside his window, King Gretch seized up solid, biting clean through his tongue, tumbled through the window after it to the runny, puss laced muck at the foot of the castle below.

His subjects ate well that morning as the flesh that was left on the King’s gangly frame pulled easily from the bone and tasted much less of grime and sadness than their usual meals of fetid soil.

New Study Confirms Drinking Linked to Sex, Sun Linked to Daylight

Alright every body, hold on to your things which are easily ejected from your person by sudden shock from wholly unbelievable news! Socks, hats, balls and all other comically loose items secured? Alright, you can’t say I didn’t warn you. Here goes…

Drinking booze, makes people want to fuck, stupidly!

What the HUH?!

I know. I lost nine good pair of work socks when I heard that news and I wasn’t even wearing half of them, they were just blown clean out of my sock drawer by the power of that revelation.

A new Canadian study says specifically that “how much alcohol a person drinks directly affects how likely they are to have unsafe sex”. Now sure, this research is based on twelve vague studies with no real numbers or “facts” backing up anything, and all of these findings are based on the participants of these studies (how ever many there might have been) self reporting their theoretical likelihood of partaking in raw intercourse after tipping back a couple adult beverages. And of course, their loosely assembled findings say that the effect of alcohol on one’s possible knowing abandonment of a baby shield disease prevention sack might be somewhere in the neighborhood of a 3 to 5 percent increase in “I don’t give a fuckitude”, which they immediately tie to how “the role of alcohol consumption and risky sex intentions can be applied to better understanding important public health issues such as the transmission of HIV.”

Now, I’m not a Doctor of Science, and I don’t claim to be. Sure, I like to run around in the lab coat I bought at the flea market and nothing else screaming about how a single injection from my flesh needle will cure what ails ya, but that should never be taken as intended to treat or diagnose any potential illness. I mention the last sentence about “understanding public health issues” almost exclusively because I love the term “risky sex intentions” and for no other reason. The writing in the article in which I found this information is piss poor and mockable on its own, regardless of the content, but every time I see the phrase “risky sex intentions” I can’t help but giggle and take another drink.

The biggest “revelation” in this “research” is the ground breaking finding that “the more alcohol participants consumed, the higher their willingness to engage in unsafe sex”.

…

Uh-huh…

I don't know, he seems like a responsible enough Warrior of the Realm.

“Alcohol is influencing their decision processes,” said a no doubt stunned Jürgen Rehm, director of the Really Long Sciencey Title at, I can only assume, Canada’s Centre for Things We All Pretty Much Already Know.

So let me get this straight. A substance that loosens inhibitions and impares cognitive ability somehow effects how much you think squeezing your reproductive organs into a tight latex sock is a good and important idea? I was unaware that this sort of thing needed researched, but fine, papers have to be written, research budgets have to be spent.

The dumbfounded doctor of the well known later went on to say that:

“Drinking has a causal effect on the likelihood to engage in unsafe  sex, and thus should be included as a major factor in preventive efforts for HIV.”

And it’s at this point that I think we need to settle down just a little bit. Now alcohol awareness is a “major factor” in preventing HIV? Really? This study of yours Canadian Umlaut, based on little more than what drunk people say they might do with their drunken parts, is what you’re going to hang your science hat on and call a “major factor in preventative efforts for HIV”? Now, I don’t have HIV (Ladies…) but I know people who do, and I’m pretty certain that a couple drinks isn’t going to make them forget that their dicks are poison. People with a virus as potentially dangerous as this one, if they know they are carrying it, are generally pretty careful about what they put on their appendages and into whom they place them. Of course, I suppose part of the argument could be that it increases the likelihood of those who are unaware that they are infected might pass it unknowingly because booze told them to, but I think this study is being a lot more irresponsible than most infected individuals will be.

I freely admit that there’s probably more to this study than this article, apparently scribbled by a ninth grade english student being chased around his school newspaper class, has shared, so I’m not entirely sure whether I should be blaming poor reporting or poor research for screaming AIDS in a crowded bar. So I guess all I’m saying is this: Booze isn’t the bad guy. The bad guy is the bad guy. Be careful who you insert a part of your body into and vicey versey. Stranger danger extends to the inside of the pants of your new friend. You may have just shared a drink or nine with this nice person, but you don’t know where their moving pieces have been. You’re just meeting them for the first time now, so don’t assume they’ve always been on their best behavior.

Van Full of Candy says, PYP: Protect Your Parts! Because if you don’t, who will?

Santa Christ Is Coming To Town

What better way to bring in the Yuletide season with the wonderful smell of Gingerbread Lattes and White Christmas playing in the background. Storming the malls on black Friday and hopefully not trampling anyone in the process, let alone being the trample-ee. Getting all the things our family wants and eating all the things that make us feel good about the season. Santa and Rudolph, snowflakes and chestnuts, presents and misletoe and … oh wait … what about Jesus? No, not your gardener, the little baby from the book who’s mama never did the nasty … no, not that movie about the barren mother who went on an adoption spree … the freakin’ son of God people, come on !! So let’s go back to the beginning of this nonsense run-on sentence and start over … what better way to bring in the Yuletide season then by combining the things we love, the things we have faith in, the things we know are both real … right? Enter Loudoun County Courthouse in historic Leesburg, Virginia … virgin, Virginia … I smell co-ink-ee-dink. The good people of the courthouse decided to let the first 10 applicants put up an art display, on the courthouse lawn for the holidays, and here’s what they got for their trust in mankind … I like to call it … Santa “Bones” Christ …

Apparently some of the residents in the area did not like this art installation and neither did the councilpeople who decided that this would be an ok idea. “I just think that these folks are trying to ruin the holiday spirit in the name of the first amendment,” Leesburg councilmember Ken Reid said. “They are just very disrespectful of the community.” But the odd thing was that they didn’t seem to mind a very similar wood carving in church the following Sunday … strange.

Thanks baby J for Xmas and Easter !!

Party People! You Win Some, You Lose Some: Headaches vs. Mistake Babies

This week has been an uneven one for those who like to party first and deal with party related consequences eventually. We at Van Full of Candy are known to be fans of both “Party” and “Consequences”. The first is fun, the second is hilarious and the combination of the two is often hilariously fun. That is, as long as those hilarious consequences of party are being felt by others. The amount of fun and hilarity one experiences as a result of party consequences is in direct relation to exactly how much it effects you personally. Party Fact.

Not so fast rapedy, where's your doctor's note? Clock's tickin'.

First, Wednesday, Party People who like to put their Party Parts in the parts of other Party People got the bad news that the Plan B Party Pill was going to have to stay behind the pharmacy counter. The FDA had ruled that anybody who had $50 and a need to unhappen a late night baby could pick up the pill in their local anywhere without having to let the Pharmacist know how much they like to Party. But “Health and Human Services Secretary Kathleen Sebelius”, thinking of course, of the children, decided that it was best to avoid the impulse buy madness that allowing just anyone to toss a couple de-preggers in your basket would most certainly cause, you know, because it’s best to stock up for those times when you just don’t want to pull on one of those Pesky Pecker Party Ponchos.

I can naturally understand the Human Services Lady’s point of view. Sebelius’ concern was apparently that “girls as young as 11 are physically capable of bearing children and Plan B’s makers didn’t prove that younger girls could properly understand how to use this product without guidance from an adult”. Completely fair and rational and understandable. Eleven year olds like to party. Party Fact. Also a fact, all over the counter drugs that can be harmful to children without proper guidance from an adult must be proven to be properly understandable to eleven year old girls before it can be sold to the public. Never mind that the use of this product, a pill, is covered by one of humanities most basic function, the “forward swallow”, or that said pill can in no way do any sort of damage what so ever to a tween whether taken properly or improperly (unless I guess, ingested into the brain stem through a child’s blow hole perhaps), the fact that the product does not explicitly explain that fact is apparently tragically unsafe and worthy of keeping it off of shelves.

Party People 17 and older that want to exterminate impending womb vermin can still do so without prescription, as before, by simply telling the “doctor” behind the counter that she had a party in her pelvis and everyone was invited. Those under 17 will continue to need a prescription from their local clinic. Don’t mind the van parked outside with pictures of inside out fetus parts or all of the lovers of invisible sky persons calling you a whore, they’re just there to make sure you don’t let the next guy get away with saying that he can’t feel anything when stuffed in his Party Prophylactic. And hey, don’t worry if the doctor calls to inform your parents that you’ve just picked up a life unruiner pill, if one of ‘em’s the reason you’re there, they’ll probably love to hear the news!

But fret not lovers of all things party! The FDA, yes, the same FDA that tried to let you decide for yourself whether or not you knew how to operate a pill properly, just today approved a drinky don’t hurt disk for mass consumption following a night of massive consumption. “Blowfish” an “Alka-Seltzer like tablet” is a hangover cure on its way to a non Plan B stocked store shelf near you!

Plop plop, fizz fizz, oh what a LOUD FIZZ THAT IS!

No longer will you have to pay for your night of heavy drinking with head aches and tummy aches and mysterious muscle strains and bruises that you can not explain and continuously tell your friends not to explain. With its (not at all) patented combination of 1,000 milligrams of Aspirin, 120 milligrams of caffeine and an unspecified (in the article that I found this information at least, and I’ve used up all of my research coupons for the year) quantity of antacid, “Blowfish” is set to take a prominent place in Van Full of Candy’s Party Purse, which is actually a medicine bag that we bought at a gas station inside an Indian reservation that we were assured was not only blessed by the tribe’s shaman, but was very masculine and didn’t at all look weird for us to be wearing. This’ll fit in quite nicely with our embarassingly purchased Plan B pills and notarized consent forms. With a name like “Van Full of Candy” written authorization to consensually violate another human being sets a lot of minds at ease.

Now the “Blowfish” product didn’t actually NEED to be approved by the FDA since it’s “composed of ingredients already aveilable for over the counter sales”, but instead needed approval of its packaging.

“Like all drug packaging, it has a lot of warnings for people with certain conditions,” Brenna Haysom, creator of Blowfish said. “And pregnant women should not take it, but hopefully they don’t need to be taking it!”

An excellent point. Women who are pregnant shouldn’t take a fizzy pill with a cup of coffee’s worth of caffeine, because that would be bad. Oh, and naturally, as Brenna so wryly points out, tongue planted firmly in drunken cheek, pregnant women shouldn’t be NEEDING to take the product in the first place since it’s a hang over cure and as most Party Preggos know, they shouldn’t be drinking beer. It’ll make the baby too fun and charismatic.Party Fact.

So Party People, get out there and have a good time knowing that the consequences that need the most urgent attending to are covered. If bright lights and loud noises make your head an itty bitty bit ouchy, the FDA approved product that can help you will soon be at the 7-11 register next to the energy shots and scratchers. But if you get pregnant inadvertently or against your will, the FDA approved product that can help you will still be un-readily available to you because, you know, God.

Australia’s Great White Shark Is a Weak Ass Bitch

Australian scientists uncovered the eyes of a 500 million year old super predator who dominated the oceans and would be considered in today’s standards, the great white shark of noicepolyolithiorianlike times. Now you’re probably wondering what the hell just finding the eyes has any relevance to this great white Australian discovery right? Well it’s because prior to this only the body of the Anomalocaris, which name I neglected to mention earlier, but figured it didn’t matter much because who really gives a shit about the names of dinosaurs, amoebas and state capitals … had been found until the alwayslookingtomaketheircountrylookbetter scientists among others of Australia decided to let this story go to show that this who has the bigger dick contest is still on, but didn’t realize that size really matters.

The eyes, don’t look into they eyes !! The Medusa of predatorial fish, the Anomalocaris had 16,000 lenses in each eye, fives times the amount of the ordinary everyday housefly. This muthafukkin barraccuda could see the muthafukkin future, but one thing it didn’t see was the ice … all that ice that buried it’s oracle ass deep in the mud off the Australian coast. Now here comes the kicker … this megakiller, this “great white shark”, this predator of predators who had no equal measured a killer whale size of a whopping 3 feet in length. Three feet? This is the horrible monster that Australia brags to take on America’s JAWS? Oh, Australia, here’s another kick to the groin, we already have a landshark with eyes that big …

We’re Having a Bake Sale for Our Very Own XXX Website

We'd really like to know if you have some pie !!

It’s happened !! It’s FINALLY happened !!! The powers that be who hold dominion over the interwebby names have allowed websites, such as ourselves, to become .XXX websites. How indecently awesome is that ?? Think about it, we wouldn’t be just a run of the mill boring old .COM website anymore, we could be really hot, 9″, go all night, bonafide porn guys in a van … WWW.VANFULLOFCANDY.XXX … Yeah, that has a great ring to it, doesn’t it ??

Make us into PORN !!

Now, when I say “bakesale”, I actually mean, we’re begging for donations to get our porn domain up. Heh, I said “up”. See, to register for a XXX domain, you have to come up with $80 to do so, and well, with all the candy we just bought and gas prices being what they are to fill the van up, we’re just a little short on the scratch to go full blown viagra on ya’lls ass. But quite honestly, begging is something we here at Van Full of Candy don’t really like doing … so … to sweetin’ the donation deal, here’s what we’ll do. For everybody who makes a donation to our pornsite domain bakesale, we’ll make a quick video for you … we’ll include your name and you can give us the idea of what you want to see, and we’ll do it. All it takes is $1.00 !! So if 80 of our loyal fans each donate $1.00, looks like we’ll be busy making 85 gawddamn videos. So how about make our lives easier and donate $20. Thanks !!

Going Green to the Grave

Alrighty hippies, here’s your chance to really put your carbon footprint where your mouth was.

A facility in Durham, England is ready to turn your last act of selfish global pollution into the greenest of green energies. Why let your rotting remains just disintegrate in the ground, a skeleton in a fine suit and a frilly cushioned box being all lazy and just taking up space as subterranean litter when it could be powering 1,500 television sets for an entire hour!

That’s right, I’ll bet you didn’t even know that when you die and bury your sweet, flammable flesh, you are wasting “as much as 150 kilowatt-hours” of usable body heat?! Well you are, Mr. Thinks My Dumb Dead Body Is So Damned Important.

Bio-fuel is people! It's PEOPLE!

This new and exciting way of making use of your corporeal garbage is coming to the old world because apparently in some parts of Europe the cremation rate is over 90 percent. I imagine that is mostly out of necessity as it’s generally referred to as the old world because people have been dying there for a long time and while digging under existing graves to bury new bodies SOUNDS like the most logical solution in my mind, it has been pointed out on numerous occasions by multiple individuals that my mind don’t work so pleasant extra bucks. So with an estimated (by me) 68% of Europe’s land mass already filled with the plague ridden bodies of Ghost Knights the options for corpse disposal are sort of limited.

While here in the good ol’ USA less than 50% of Patriotic Ameri-deaths result in post mortal immolation. We’ve got plenty of land, generously given to us by the plague ridden bodies of Ghost Indians in which to place the beloved remains of our beloved beloveds. And anyway, we’re Americans, it’s kind of our thing to make sure we waste as much of the planet as possible to make sure Jesus can see how much we’re enjoying ourselves. So don’t worry American dead and dying, this sort of answer isn’t going to come to this side of the pond until we’re already burning enough bodies to make it worth the crematorium’s while.

But that day may be coming. Owner and CEO of Florida based B&L Cremation Systems, operator, cremation engineer and all around fan of ashening the dead, Steve Looker, between mirthless cackles and rubbing his dry, cold hands together in a dark, hollow glee, said. “Over the next 10 years, with the baby boomers coming through, cremation is going to reach 75 to 80 percent. Then, this might be feasible.” Oh, to live your life, excitedly awaiting the mass extinction of a generation as a boon to your bottom line. But, I suppose it’s better than just letting them stack up and smell, so, more power to the creepy bastard wishing death upon millions as soon as possible.

I can’t say which side I come down on the burial vs. cremation subject myself. On one hand I have a place I can call my own for all eternity, or until my head stone is misplaced, or I’m dug up for after-after party necrotic sexy times. And if I’m all still intact, there’s still the chance that I could live again in undead form. While on the other hand, I could be reduced to an easy to carry travel size me. My loved ones wouldn’t have to get in the car and make a big trip of it to visit me, they could just high five the can full of me on the entertainment center. And there’s still the chance that I could maybe have an undead after life, but this one would be in the form of a kick ass Sandmanesque living ash cloud!

I want my tombstone to read "AHHHHH!!!"

It’s kind of a push when I think about it. The only problem I see with being used as an alternative source of energy is that then the hippies would win, and by God, I can’t allow that to happen. So I think the only way I’m going to accept cremation is if it’s going to come by means of me leading police in a high speed pursuit after robbing a whole food grocery outlet, losing control of my stolen electric vehicle and plowing headlong into a gas station in the middle of refueling, taking out the entire city block in a towering ball of fire that can be seen from space…

Gotta add that one to the “death journal”.