Weight Loss & Muscle Gain … The Van Full of Candy Way

We all overate this past week, and we’re all still eating the leftovers pretending those calories don’t count, well, because they’re leftovers and only the original three meals make us fat. Well if you want to melt those holiday pounds right off your skeleton, then look no further. We here at Van Full of Candy always have our finger on the pulse of healthy living and lean muscle mass … gaining. Trust me, it sounds bad, but it’s actually good.

Our friends at Optimum Nutrition really love us, so they’re always keeping us up to date on the latest health supplements and products that make you feel wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiired, in a healthy way, not like that other drink that Jesse likes so much. This shit is legit. So thank you to our dear friends, and hopefully future SPONSORS, hint hint, Optimum Nutrition for hookin’ us up with the real good junk.

Address blurred for YOUR protection, trust me

Upon opening the envelope of nutritional bounty, many yummy products spilled out like little packs of crack. Once you get a small taste of the pure uncut stuff you’ll be back for more.

Look at the pretty colors ... I want to put it in my body

I didn’t have time to read the actual “directions” that Optimum Nutrition carefully places on every packet, but once I got past having to get a glass of water and a spoon to stir, I lost interest and did it the Van Full of Candy way.

I want to lose weight NOWWWWWWWW !!

Now for you video entertainment enjoyment, please enjoy my award winning video that won me 100 lbs. of Optimum Nutrition Whey Protein. You’d think I’d be in better shape with all this healthy stuff, but apparently you’re supposed to workout, psh, who has time for that?

RealDoll : Necrophilia Edition

In the modern world of online dating, and the availability of “adult services” all over the internet, one would think that hookin’ up with someone shouldn’t be too difficult. There are so many ways to go out and find yourself a live warm one to take home with you, and whether that leads to 1st Base action and a kiss on the cheek goodnight, or slammin’ a homerun with two hookers dressed like characters from Hogan’s Heroes feeding you sushi rolls with their baby-oiled feet, there are unlimited numbers of ways to make it happen. Craigslist. Match.com. Swingersspace.com. Christianmingle.com. Hookerswithbabyoiledfeet.com.

Wearing the Hitler stache is gonna cost you extra

You want it, there’s a website for your favorite flavor, and for the right price, it’s yours. Hell, you could even take yourself a shower, put on some big boy/girl clothes and go to a bar, get yourself and a willing participant liquored up and hey, the world is your oyster (on the half shell) ((Aphrodisiac reference, kinda fits)).

So when I read a story about a Russian guy in Russia (is it even Russia anymore?) who was caught with 29 female corpses in his house that he dug up from various cemeteries over the last year, and then dressed them up like dolls, the only question that immediately jumped into my mind was … “Where in the hell did they all sit?”. I mean I’ve got room for about 5 or 6 people on the couch and various chairs, MAYBE 8 or 9 if I use the dining room chairs, and the 4 or 5 people who sit on the floor, I’m good for a strong 13 people max. But 29? That’s a freakin’ wedding reception, I’d have to rent a hall, white plastic chairs, tables, linen and obviously a DJ to entertain those freeloaders.

I don't need no stinkin' drinks ... let's get NASTY !!

Then the second question races in … “Did you get anyone to help?”. Seriously, that’s a lot of labor. Scoping out the cemetery, learning the timing of security, groundskeepers, foot traffic, road traffic, lighting, digging, lifting, cleaning up afterwards, driving them home, hauling them inside without anybody seeing, dressing them like a Madame Alexander, propping them up, making sure they’re comfy. AND THAT’S JUST ONE !!! Now go and repeat that craziness another 28 times? No thank you. I remember how hard it was just to go into my own backyard and pick up dog shit with a hand trowel and a plastic grocery bag.

So hats off to you Anatoly Moskvin, that is some serious dedication and devotion to never being lonely. And it just goes to show that not everybody needs a computer, a website and a credit card to find Mr. or Mrs. Right, just a sturdy shovel and a little bit of elbow grease … just like how our great-grandparents used to do it.

Smoking DOESN’T Cause Cancer Anymore … So Smoke ‘Em If You Got ‘Em

That is so OBVIOUSLY Photoshop'd

Well thank god THAT’S over … for now anyway. Some federal judge has ruled that the “graphic” images of what smoking will do to you are unconstitutional and go against Big Tobacco’s right to free speech, saying that the pictures are “staged”. So what I’m getting out of this is that since the pictures are in fact not real, then smoking cigarettes doesn’t give you cancer and make you dead. This is great news to all of us religious smokers who just love the way it makes us smell and helps keep our taste buds in check, not to mention all the small children who see the ads for cigarettes at eye

Come to Daddy !!

level in convenience stores.

This is a great day for our constitutional rights !! I mean, what’s next? Forcing breweries to place graphic images on 12 packs of beer of what happens when you drink too much?  A picture of a dude with a huge beer belly? A picture of that man/woman that you went home with and what they ACTUALLY looked like the next day? Graphic pictures of drunk driving crashes? That’s just ridiculous … we all know that cigarettes and beer don’t kill people … guns do.

And then what’s next? The desensitizing of these “shocking” pictures? Once we see them hundreds of times a month, they’ll just become normal to us, they won’t “shock” us into not buying these wicked vices that we choose to put in our bodies with our own hard earned money that we make on a bi-monthly basis, these vices that help us deal with the jobs that we have that make us completely stressed out day after day after miserable day working for the man that helps us earn this money that helps us buy these things that assuage our completely broken down spirits so we can cope with waking up the next day and schlepping into the office of your current employment just to do the whole thing over again tonight. We’ll just look at them and say, “hey, that’s uncle Rick”. LET US HAVE OUR CANCER STICKS !! LET US HAVE OUR 12 PACKS OF MEDICINE !! QUIT RUINING EVERY GAWDDAMN THING FOR US FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT’S F’ING HOLY !!!

The new look of the Happy Meal

So for now, go out and enjoy your cigarettes, drink yourself silly because there’s nothing wrong with it right now until the ruling gets appealed and goes to the Supreme Court. And hopefully nothing comes of it because I’m sure they’ve got an entire ad campaign that they’d love to put on the bags of every McDonald’s and Burger King order.

Here’s a cute little video the FDA made … enjoy !!

Not Even Melon Sex is Safe Anymore

Fresh from your grocer's aisle !!

Gone are the days of a good ‘ol fashion melon pounding thanks to this latest punishment to the people, bestowed upon us by a spiteful and vengeful god. You know, I really don’t understand how a melon STD outbreak is even possible, let alone fair. I mean, what the hell is ‘listeria’ anyway? It’s not like I’m out coveting my neighbor’s wife, or out killing people for no apparent reason. All I’m doing is taking a succulent, juicy, perfectly round, sexy melon and making sweet sweet love to it, and for that I’m gonna be treated like a scene out of Magnolia? Well isn’t THAT some bullshit ??

Lets start this from the beginning shall we? Many years ago as I found myself with several hours of nothing to do alone in my house, I stumbled upon a website that gave many “fresh ideas” on how to pleasure one’s self. There were many, many, MANY ideas to try, so being the dedicated researcher that I am, I had to at least test a FEW of them out, you know … for science.

I ventured out on an exciting and naughty “melon-quest” and after several hours of pickyness, I purchased a fine melon from my local grocer. Sex-melons need to be the correct size to one’s anatomy, as to not bottom out on the old gal and cheating yourself out of the full experience. So for those of you taking notes, the bigger the better (you could go as big as a watermelon but those things get a little out of control once you start making out). I then took my new “girlfriend” home and placed her out in the sun for a couple hours to let her get nice and hot on the inside (it’s not a necessary step, but it’s so worth it, trust me). You then carefully take your paring knife and carve a hole right on the … Oh wait? What??!!

Well this is awkward, I was just told that people are getting sick and dying from EATING melons that are infected with ‘listeria’, so yeah, go ahead and forget all that other stuff that I was talking about, that was all just a little fun-time joke for the blog.

PROOF That Amy Winehouse Was Murdered by Not Drinking!

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”.

BOOYAKA!

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!

Overcome by exhaustion from finding so much booze a loving home.

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.

Visual approximation of Amy Winehouse's current state of being.

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.

Van Full of Candy’s Guide to Van Full of Candy

We like the internet, and judging by the fact that you’re reading this, we can safely assume that you do too. We also know that if you’re anything like us, you’re looking every day for new ways to waste your hours at work pretending to be spread sheeting or otherwise giving a fuck about what you’re being paid to give fucks about. But for us, fucking about is part of the gig. We have to make sure our pretty little faces are out there so that your pretty little faces can be entertained and eventually, we won’t have to pretend to spread sheet.

But there’s a lot of internet out there. From what I hear, it’s kind of like a web, that is very nearly world wide. So if we want to be seen in all of this big crazy land of cat videos and pornography, we have to be in lots of places. We need to be seen. We need love and confirmation of our value as persons in the form of likes or +’s or thumbs up, votes up, funny votes, re-tweets; anything that lets us know that we are in fact alive and being heard. That our long hours, hand crafting finely milled funny is not all in vain. We need you to tell ten friends, and we need those ten friends to tell ten friends and so on. And then we need all of you to send us a dollar… Or just click “like”.

So you probably know of a couple places to find us, you have somehow already, but you probably don’t know ALL of the random cracks and crevices of the internet in which we’re squirreled away, poking things with our comedy sticks to see if fan bees swarm out and sting us with their approval… No, yes, that is what I meant…

So with all of that in mind, Van Full of Candy is proud to present your guide to Van Full of Candy on the Internets!

WordPress: This is where the magic happens… Such as it is… Every weekday (excluding some holidays) we post a new something or other to WordPress which makes its way to you, the loyal reader by some other means… You could really just subscribe to the WordPress site and never have to go to any of our other crap and you’d be just fine… We wish you wouldn’t. We also wish I hadn’t just called everything that’s going to follow “crap”, but as you all know, my delete key does not work, so there’s nothing I can do to change what is…

facebook: This would be the other place of import to us. Why? Because this is where the rest of the planet goes, and we want the rest of the planet to like us. Here you can find virtual farms to tend, or virtual towns to build, pretty much anything that real people used to do in this country is represented in a virtual game form on the Book of Faces. Like interacting with other people, or having a life. All represented virtually in the one place that everyone on the planet goes to complain about what this magical meeting place has fucked up this time by changing where that one button you never used in the first place is now…

Twitter: We tweet, we’re tweeters, we twit about twat, you know, like all the other cool revolutionaries. Except we don’t really overthrow dictators or organize protests or anything, and frankly we’re tired of being made to feel like fuck ups by those that do, because we don’t. I could totally overthrow an oppressive regime if I wanted to, but I’d just rather replace words in movie titles with “Butt” or “Fart”… That’s changing the world, in a way…

YouTube: This is where you get to see and hear our “funny”. Through the magic of motion pictures, captured on digitized still images, played in quick succession in a way to fool the eye into seeing a moving image, in combination with audio capture technology which steals our voices from the air and traps it inside your computer box you are able to see into a world, long dead, as though it were happening before your very eyes. And kitties falling down makes my giggle and hug myself!

Funny or Die: Then we take those magical demon images and upload them to be judged by the public. A public, unable to create, but infinitely qualified to critique. Who’s only contribution to art and entertainment is in the tearing down of artists and entertainers! Dismissive of the time and effort put into the very thing that they are dismissing entirely out of hand! … Of Die…

Current: A couple of years ago Al Gore was everywhere. So much so, that we needed an entire television channel to contain it. And so Current TV was born. We usually share our more angry political pieces on the current community site, because that’s what they like, and we like what people like as long as what they like is us… LOVE US!

foursquare: The internet has given us an outlet to make sure the entire universe knows every time we get gas or a burrito or gas and a burrito. It is foursquare. And we want to be stalked as much, if not more than the next guy…

Comedy Whirled: Sort of what I imagine Funny or Die might have been like if it hadn’t been founded as Will Ferrell and Adam McKay’s club house. Not that that’s a bad thing at all, because those guys might some day pay me to write funny things for them. So what I meant to say is, Funny or Die is awesome and I want them to give me money and exposure. Sorry Comedy Whirled, just be cool, I fucked up, you guys are awesome but you can’t destroy me yet… Kisses Billy and AMcK!

Linked In: Created, in theory, to be a place where professionals can come together and professional… ize. I don’t think it took long for the creators of Linked In to realize that’s kind of boring, but no one’s had the time to change anything about it yet because they’re too busy farming their virtual radishes. You have a linked in account because someone you worked with at one point or another let their address book be raped and added you and that was the last time both of you checked it.

klout: We all want to feel like big shots. We all want to think we matter. Us especially. This site gives you some seemingly random, mostly unattributable number representation between 1 and 100 of how much “klout” you have. No, it doesn’t make sense to us either, but we have one of these too!

Empire Avenue: A sort of social media stock market… game… thing. Because there’s nothing more fun than the stock market. But sadly, quite addicting. Another way of showing you that the time you’re wasting on all of the other sites above is actually, really, pretend paying off and increasing your value in some way. You’re not wasting your life tweeting about how Justin Bieber should come to your junior high school and play a show on the soccer field, you are strengthening your portfolio!

Google+: In case you haven’t noticed, Google is swallowing the world. And unsatisfied with simply owning everything that Apple doesn’t, they’ve decided to try to kick Zuckerburg in the pant fronts too while they’re at it. Google+ (or “The Plus” as no one has yet called it since I just coined that phrase) is supposedly the next big thing in the social medias. We don’t see it. But we’ll be damned if we’re not going to be there too just in case. Besides, Google knows everything I’m doing at all times at this point; it’s best to not fuck with someone like that.

MySpace: LOVE US JUSTIN! For the love of god, all we want is for you to notice us! We only have this stupid account so you can see us and we can hang out and maybe smell your fingers a couple times a night! WE WENT TO MYSPACE FOR YOU! MYSPACE!!!

Free iPhone 4 … All You Have To Do Is Wash Your Hands !!

If only ...

I know that we have an affinity for our technical devices these days. Not just an affinity, but for most of us, they are an attachment of our arms just past our hands and sometimes to our ears. And for those of us who need this certain device within at least 10 feet of our person to feel any sort of calm, then if you’ve ever been 11 feet or more away from  your little black graham cracker for any more than 5 minutes then you’ll understand the violent withdrawal I had this last  weekend when I actually “lost” my phone for about 40 minutes. Let’s get into the story of this horrible hour.

I was at a pool party this past Saturday at the complex in which I live which was wonderfully catered by El Pollo Loco with sodas and bottled water galore. There was a salsa “bar”, an iPod playing music and … a god damn snow-cone machine with count them … 3 different flavors. This was a downright shindig, not to mention the parade of bikinis and high heels. I partook of the food, the drink, the blue ice, and even took a little dip in the pool to cool my overheating body. As I got out of the pool I decided it was time to take a visit to the clubhouse restroom to relieve the litres of H2O flowing through my bladder. I went to the area where my towel was lying on the grass with my keys, wallet and pacemaker iPhone. I threw on my shirt, slipped into my flip-flops and grabbed my gorgeous, sexy, black little shiny friend and headed to the John.

As I entered the muggy men’s room, I realized I was alone and needed somewhere to place my phone since my swim trunks were soaking wet and would never set it on a urinal. The sink area was wet and the only place that was dry was the soap dispenser mounted on the mirror. I placed my precious on top of the soap dispenser and took care of business. As I started washing my hands, the door opened and a couple of guys entered, we exchanged “how’s it going’s” and went about our summer pool party ways.

My free gift to you if you aren't a filthy man

After the chicken disappeared and the snow cones were nothing more than a pool of bluish fruit punch puddle on the ground, it was time to exit gracefully sans sunburn. I made it back to my humble abode, showered and got ready for the rest of my crazy Saturday. I sat on the couch, turned on the box looking for some sort of sporting event so I could reflect on my own laziness. The dozens of minutes passed when my muscle memory reached for my phone and it wasn’t where it usually lies waiting for my touch. Hmmmm, it must be on the charger in the kitchen. But it wasn’t. Well that’s strange. It must be in the bedroom since I had to change out of my wet bathing suit earlier. But it wasn’t. What the FUCK?? Where could it be? I need my GODDAMN phone and I need it now !!! For what? I don’t know, it’s like my blankie. It wasn’t anywhere, something was wrong, I must have left it at the pool party. FUCK !!! It’s lost, it’s gone forever !! Back to the crime scene.

I ran back to the pool area and asked all the caterers if they had found an iPhone or if some honest person turned it in after finding it. But no, there was no phone turned in. F !! It’s gone forever !! But wait … it hit me … the bathroom … I left it on the soap dispenser in the bathroom. There’s no way it’s still there. A free iPhone just left out for anyone to slip in their pocket and disappear forever, I knew it was gone. I trotted to the bathroom as quickly yet not desperately as I possibly could. I entered the clubhouse, walked swiftly with a forced smile on my face as I passed other people enjoying the cookies and conversastion.

The door swung open as my eyes went straight to the sink area, particularly the soap dispenser. HOLY JESUS CHRIST IT WAS STILL THERE !! How could that be? It was like a pot of honey laid before a bear and the bear decided … “no, I’m gonna pass”. But what I realized, is that the safest place to place anything of value is in a men’s restroom on top of the soap dispenser, because, well, men just don’t wash their hands after they touch themselves during the peepee session. So men, here’s an honest thank you from the bottom of my smartphone addictive heart. Thank you for not washing your hands !!