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?

Van Full of Mustache Rides [Movember Style]

"Hi, is this Magnum P.I.? Movember called ... they want their mustache back."

Ahhhhh yes, the glorious moustache !! The Fu Manchu, the Dali, the Handlebars, the Copstache, the Creepy Van Guy … HEY WAIT !! We’ve all seen them, and we all LOVE them. They’ve been around far longer than anyone probably would dare to guess. The first documented ‘stache of lovliness was depicted, coincidentally enough, on a carpet from 300 B.C. But I digress. There is just something masculinely magical about this lip carpet that makes everyone stare in awe. Magical enough to make you want to give us money for growing one, right? RIGHT ?!?! Enter … MOVEMBER !!

We here at Van Full of Candy are always up for a good ol’ fashioned contest/shindig/fundraiser sort of deal where the end result is a hairy bush right under nose that’s long enough to lick the lunch nuggets out of without using a napkin, whilst raising some fun-money for cancer awareness. So … the way Movember works is …

1. On November 1st, we must shave our little baby-butt faces smooth.

2. Go by the name of Mo Bros

3. Groom, trim and wax our newly sprouted mooostaches into something fancy over the next 30 days

4. Get people to join our team and/or give a small donation to reach our goal of $200

5. Look awesome

So here we are at day 1 of Movember cleanshaven and ready for action, and here’s the proof:

To get my face Movember legal, I went home on my lunch break and chewed my own beard off!

I used an icepick.

Click Here To Join Our Moustache Team

Click Here To Donate One Measly Dollar

Van Full of Pap Smear

Apparently the best way to prevent cervical cancer is a good old smeary pap.

So … here’s our coupon !!

Pappy? Is that you Pappy?

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 !!

Cancer? Cured! Recession? Cured! Common Cold? EVERYTHING Cured!!

Something miraculous came to me this weekend. It came to me in the way of divine intervention sent straight from the Creator himself as my mind was magically opened to see something that has been inconspicuously floating around our planet for about 40 years. Something that is so awe inspiring that only a worthy clairvoyant hand picked by the hand of the Almighty himself, like myself, could ever completely fathom its true consequence. The veil was lifted for me to see the gift that was given to us +/- 14,600 days ago in the way of an instrumental melody, presented through the medium of a motion picture. And it was bright! So very bright!

The medium in which this life changing information was transported to mine eyes was through a Tarantino flick, Resevoir Dogs. A poignant movie giving many life lessons throughout with several emotions being touched, like a virgin, shall we say? But it’s the very last song in this film that tells us, well me, the simple remedy to all of life’s tribulations, and as the credits rolled, BAMMM!! it was revealed. It’s the song “Coconut” written by Harry Nilsson. The answer has been here all along, well for 40 years anyway, and the answer is “You put the lime in the coconut”. That’s it … simple, natural, organic, and both trees were in the Garden of Eden since the dawn of creation.

Now Drink Them Both Up ?

So why did it take 1,971 years after the birth of Christ to figure it out? Well it happened by accident like all things created in this world. For instance, bacon. How did someone figure out the beautiful thing known as bacon? Well, somebody had a pig, and that pig was caught in a barn fire, and as that little piggy burned, a smell emerged from that barn that was so sensual to the nose that only one thing could be done. Go get that pig and eat it … bacon.

Accidents, the ugly sister of Mother Necessity, Mother Accident lead to the elixer of the world. You see, Harry Nilsson was having a Hawaiin themed party one night in the early 70′s, he had tikis, coconuts, leis (pronounced Lay’s, like the chip), flower shirts and limes. He cut open a coconut to extract the milk and use the shell as a cup, however as he was getting ready to pour out the milk, one of his drunk friends was throwing limes and it landed in this cocunut shell. The potion began to bubble and fizz and a heavenly voice sounded through the room, “all who drink of the lime and the coconut will be cured”. And they drank. And it cured their belly aches.

Better Get Your ‘Gaydar’ Fixed !!

A heterosexual black male, a gay white male, and a filthy hillbilly male walk into a bar. The bartender says, “We don’t serve your type here”. The three men look at each other in confusion, turn to the bartender and say, “Which one of us are you talking to”? And that there my friends lies the question of the day … Who was the bartender talking to?

The answer to this question will have many different answers depending on your own upbringing, beliefs, judgements, and what-not’s. The sad thing about this is that there ARE answers to this question. For some of you the answer is: The Filthy Hillbilly. Look at him, he’s disgusting, he reeks of Hamm’s beer, he’s gonna try and get in a fight with someone in this bar tonight, get him the hell out of here. For others it will be: The Heterosexual Black Male. Look at him, coming in here trying to take our white women away from us, and we all know he’s bound to steal something while he’s here. And then for others it’s: The Gay White Male. Oh lord, look at him with his great fashion sense, his manicured nails, white teeth, tan, and that gawd-awful lisp. Get that flamer out of here, he’s gonna try to hit on me, I just know it.

Good afternoon ... I'd like to donate some blood.

Now this brings up another question: How do you know that he’s gay? I know many men who match the description above, hell, I might even fall into that category. So … am I now … gay? Well according to some people’s ‘Gaydar’, I just might be, which I don’t think is such a bad thing considering, once again, the description above. But what happens when somebody’s ‘Gaydar’ is malfunctioning? What if it’s not as finely tuned as other people’s ‘Gaydars’ and they tell someone that there services aren’t wanted because they … well … they just … “look too gay”?

This happened to Aaron Pace, a 22 year old, heterosexual, black male. He wanted to donate some blood at the Bio-Blood Components donation centre in Chicago where he was turned away for “appearing to be a homosexual” and “looking too gay”. Blood donation centres, including those run by the American Red Cross, do not allow gay men to donate blood because of a 30-year-old federal policy. So, who is a chosen one to determine who is gay and who isn’t? Who’s ‘Gaydar’ can we trust? Has there been new developments in ‘Gaydar’ technology? Well, I think that my ‘Gaydar’ is actually quite good, so I decided I needed to test it out for myself. I looked for a picture of Mr. Aaron Pace on the googleweb and found his picture, and, well Aaron … you do look kinda gay.

The perfectly arched brows and the "lying on the ground" pose gives it away.

The “No Cut Off My Penis” Clause

Men, burn this image into your memory !!

This is probably the most painful thing I’ve ever had to write, no seriously !! The lady above, Kieu Becker, decided enough was enough with her marriage and decided to whack her husband’s pecker off and throw it in the garbage disposal. But it gets worse! She then decided to turn the garbage disposal on … HOLY F WOMAN !! That’s some badass shit right there. You wanna talk about somebody’s sex-life going down the drain. I don’t even know if I continue writing this all hunched over the keyboard grabbing my junk.

I guess I can finish this with one hand, so here goes … I don’t know what dude did to his wife, but I think there needs to be a new rule in place for relationships, and that rule is: If you are so dissatisfied with your relationship and you are thinking about cutting the sexual organ off of your partner (man or woman) you have to say it out loud once to your partner so that they have fair warning that it’s a possibility.

Example #1: “I really feel like putting sleeping pills in your dinner tonight, and once you’re passed out I’m going to tie you up and cut off your dick!” … See? Fair warning. This man now has a choice to get the F out of Dodge.

Example #2: “After I talk you into having kinky sex with me tonight and letting me tie you up to the bed, I’m going to cut your vagina off.” …  See how this works? Simple. Just a little warn-warn.

So people, women in particular, please, put the knife down, take a deep breath and give us a quick heads up that you’re thinking of “Bobbit’ing” us so that we will one day be able to get our … heads up … again. Thanks.

Bulls and Beers: Nothing to Fear

People do stupid things. To be more accurate, college aged kids do stupid things. To be even more accurate, drunken, college aged kids do stupid things. I wouldn’t know, I was torn from the thigh of Zeus, fully formed, wizened beyond reason and sent here to entertain the masses with my razor sharp wit and imaginative usages of the word “cunt”. But today, two stories involving predominantly drunken, college age participants caught my eye.

A poll published in the online edition of the journal Psychology of Addictive Behaviors showed that “Drinky, yay!”

CHUG CHUG CHUG RESPONSIBLY!

This survey of ”nearly 500 college students” revealed to the shock of absolutely no one, that the “positive” effects of binge drinking out weighed the “negative” effects, in their drunken eyes. Asking college students if they think partying like lunatics and fucking their brains out is worth potentially having a headache in the morning and maybe missing class and expecting them to not respond with “Woo!” is like asking anyone being punched in the face if they have ever enjoyed anything less in their entire lives and expecting them to reply with “Well, I was miserable until this face punching started.”

I personally never had a problem with binge drinking, I simply had a short period in my life where I would drink large quantities of alcohol and throw up on things. But between point A and point Blurgh, I had an excellent time, and that’s what alcohol is.

One of the authors of the report, University of Washington Professor of Psychology Kevin King said, between what had to have been a couple drinks:

“There is some kind of bias that’s happening when people experience these things. You could compare it to touching a hot stove. What we are seeing is that only when people get really burnt by their drinking are they deterred.”

And while that statement is, on one hand insane, on the other there is an element of truth to it. It’s absolutely true that drinking in excess does carry with it many potential negative effects when combined with other activities, such as improperly operating a motor vehicle or a penis. My problem with this analogy is the comparison between drinking and touching a hot stove. Drinking alcohol has many enjoyable effects along with several less desirable potential outcomes. Touching a hot stove carries with it little to no positive outcomes. If touching a hot stove responsibly and in moderation made me and those around me more entertaining and attractive, while touching it irresponsibly burned the flesh from my bones, this would be a fair comparison, but as it stands, only the latter of those two outcomes is true.

College is a place where teens go with little to no adult supervision and scant responsibility to live in close quarters with other hormonally charged young adults enjoying their new found freedoms, many of them for the first time in their lives. They are going to put things in their bodies and then put their bodies in other bodies until they’ve had their fill of that and are ready to move on to what ever’s next. Telling them that their fun might murder them will make them think twice at the first drink and giggle like a freshman who was just told she was the prettiest girl in the world by the Basketball team’s third string center after keg three.

"Why are we running?!" "BULLS!" "Ah, gotcha!"

Meanwhile, in Pamplona Spain, drunks are running in front of bulls when they absolutely don’t have to be… again. But good news! Day 1: No gorings!

That was news. That was in the headline, the excitement of no one being gored by animals that don’t belong on paved roads, running after drunken tourists who have spent money to fly half a world away to do something incredibly stupid. Everyone who gets gored and or maimed at the annual “Trampling of the Dipshits” deserves every painful stitch, itchy cast or scornful shake of the head over their casket, that they get.

This event is only made possible by drinking to excess, and when it’s cause to celebrate that no one was murdered by wild animals during your national celebration, perhaps it’s time to rethink how you spend your leisure time. But despite the inherent stupidity of this festival, it continues, seemingly unabated while practically every year someone is mutilated by angry, confused beasts running wildly through these Spanish streets, and occasionally by the bulls as well.

But just as with the drunken activities of college kids wasting their parents’ money at home, the problem with these drunken college kids wasting their parents’ money abroad is not merely consumption of alcohol, but what follows said drinking. Give two people the same amount of alcohol, have them drink it in the same amount of time, set Drunk A loose in an open field filled with pillows and Drunk B loose in an open field filled with pistols and odds are the one thrown into an already stupid situation will probably be more likely to suffer stupid consequences.

What I’m saying is, alcohol doesn’t kill people, dangerous, stupid things combined with alcohol kill people. So I guess the message I’m trying to get across with all of this is this: friends don’t let friends be cunts.

Now take a shot.

Can I get a Pack of Crusty Lung Light Menthol 100 Extra Slims Please?

Good news everybody! It’s still legal to suck disease straight down your throat, and it just got a whole lot sexier!

Word came down today that the smooth, rich flavor that just makes life worth living is now going to come in new, “edgier” goth doom packaging. Adorned in “labels that depict in graphic detail the negative health effects of tobacco use… the corpse of a smoker, diseased lungs, and a mother holding her baby with smoke swirling around them” and hip new catch phrases like “Smoking can kill you” and “Cigarettes cause cancer”… Hooray?

No shit...

This will of course do very little to curb smoking, likely as much as, say, distributing servings of heroin (that’s how they’re doled out, right? Serving sizes with nutritional information on the side? I haven’t caught up on my DVRed episodes of “The Oxycontin Express”, please, no spoilers) in mylar party balloons with the words “Don’t” scribbled on the side in the blood of your own children. See, we as Americans often do stupid shit, that’s kind of our thing. Not that smoking is strictly an American past time, ’cause it ain’t, but we know how to put our own particular child lock brand of insulting stupidity on it. It’s the American way.

There’s nothing in this latest move by the FDA about banning the sale of cigarettes or tobacco products. Nothing to remove from the shelves a product that is responsible for approximately 443,000 deaths a year. Their solution is simply to make the packs hard to look at and hope to scare smokers straight. By making half the pack look like a snuff film, telling them that “Eating poison will surely assassinate you” and giving them the 1-800 number to a stop smoking hot line, the FDA has done its job and made the world safe again. Smokers today are allowed to smoke legally only in a two foot square cabinet under their bathroom sink which upon moving must be shipped to a special cigarette nook disposal facility in North Dakota where it is then buried three miles deep under a thick protective layer of E.T. Atari 2600 game cartridges until Jesus can safely exorcise all of the inky black cancer vapors or the sun expands to the point of devouring the solar system and all life as we know it… Which ever comes first. Making the packs scary ain’t gonna stop smokers from smoking their smoke making smokes.

Debating whether or not cigarettes should be made illegal is pointless. They never will be. They’ll be $60 a pack and sold wrapped in photographs of the grandchildren that cancer will prevent you from ever meeting before they’re made illegal. Should they be? Well, the way I see it, the key to whether something should be illegal or not should be whether or not that something’s sale would be approved if it were presented as a brand new product today.

Chainsaw... it's what your face wants!

I personally have a product that has been proven to, if used properly, fucking murder you. When can I start selling this thing to children while telling anyone trying to arrest me that I am in no way trying to sell them to children? My new product is called “Chainsaw to the Face”. And just as the name suggests, it is the rich, refreshing taste of chainsaw, delivered conveniently and comfortably, directly to the god damned face. Chainsaws are legal, faces are most certainly still legal, despite all of big anti-face’s efforts to make them otherwise. Why couldn’t I sell boxes of “Chainsaw to the Face” in every gas station and drug store across God’s own free land. Go ahead FDA, slather it in warning labels if it’ll make you feel like you’re doing your job. Dip our boxes in pictures of the results of the use of our product: old people with their faces chainsawed off. “Chainsaw to the Face” is just too addictive, that’s why we secretly try to hook our customers when they’re young, to get the most possible “Chainsaw to the Face” years out of them before, inevitably, they are killed by the proper, clinical, only possible use of “Chainsaw to the Face”: a chainsaw to the face…

The only thing the FDA can think to do, or will be allowed to do, to a product that kills 1 in every 693 people in this country is to make half of the pack look like what will happen if you use what’s inside as directed. Nobody at this point in human history doesn’t know that cigarettes are bad for you. The last person born before packs of cigarette had to legally start telling people that they wanted to murder you for buying them, turned 56 this year. Seeing exactly how cigarettes plan on doing it every time you pick up your pack isn’t going to make many people suddenly realize that their sucking a dozen kinds of poison into their face might not be the best thing for them… They could start packaging cigarettes in people recently murdered by cigarettes and it would have little effect on their purchase power.

By the estimates of this article and of new studies 20% of Americans smoke: about 46 million Smokey-Americans. By implementing this new horrific labeling, the FDA, BY THEIR OWN ESTIMATES, believe they will reduce the number of smokers by 213,000 in 2013 “with smaller additional reductions through 2031″. So their big victory against tobacco is that by making half of the pack look like a cereal killer’s frigidaire, they are going to reduce the number of smokers in the United States by… wait for it… 0.46%! Twice as many people will still die in 2013 from smoking, as their new horror porn warning labels will save over the next 18 years…

The tobacco companies are laughing their tar covered balls off at you FDA. 

Cigarettes got in on the ground floor of murdering Americans with their products. tobacco products have been killing Americans as long as there’ve been Americans. And if one of our nation’s original biggest exports had been cocaine of heroin or Chainsaws to the Face, then they would be just as inexorably entrenched in American commerce as the tobacco industry.

So good for you tobacco, you made yourself too important to have to give a shit that you’re murdering your customers and too big to be stopped. Good for you.

Montel Williams Wants To Get You Stoned

Let's make a smoothie outta this beotch

So Montel William’s television show, monotonously named, “The Montel William’s Show” ended a few years ago. Not that anybody had any clue, hence, me letting you know. You probably know him better for his infomercials pushing his Healthmaster Blender to people who are too lazy to actually go to a grocery store, buy the ingredients to make a healthy soup or smoothie, peel, chop and blend those ingredients and then wash out the Healthmaster, dry it, and put it away so they can be healthier by making better food choices. But the motivation to do so is there everytime you pick up the user-guide/menu with thoughts of “oh that’s easy, I can totally do that”, but the blender just ends up depressed in a cupboard collecting dust right next to that salad spinner you really needed to start making your own salads, it then gets moved from apartment to apartment with well wishes of using it one day, only to be put in a box

Would you mind blending me up a nice hot bowl of "STFU"?

and transplanted to the garage where it sits for another two years before another apartment move to where one says, “let’s put it on Craigslist”, but doing that takes so much freakin’ effort that it ends up next to the apartment dumpster you’re moving out of with a FREE sign on it only to be seen by another “wanna be healthier” person, picked up and put in their cupboard. Thanks Montel, but Burger King meal deal #4 is sounding really good and easy right about now.

So as I’m perusing my local rag today, I read that Mr. Blender Man wants to open a medical-cannibas dispensery in Sacramento. Hey wait! I freakin’ live in Sacramento. Montel just totally showed up in my backyard and wants to get me stoned. SWEET!! But wait, it gets better. I also find out that Montel is going to be a special guest for the improv comedy company we used to be a part of. We had better get some sort of sweet-ass-pot-ex-employee discount, that’s all I can say. You hear me Montel? Or better yet, you better give me a sweet rate on my cash advance of $1,500 that I can get through your Montel Williams Cash Advance Website … Wait! WHAT??!! You’re also a Check-Into-Cash? I’m starting to get really confused with all your different business ventures and websites and health and psychics on your old show and blunt rollin’ and … damn, I need a smoothie. (And in that instant it all became very clear to me).

I got money, blenders, blunts, whattchuwant ??

Montel has a “Downward Spiral Ponzi Multi Level Marketing Healthy Stoner Scheme” going on. It’s a very rare one, but one that I’ve only heard about in biblical scrawls. Here’s how it works: The show, The Montel William’s Show, was the credibility draw. We’re drawn in with all your good deeds of people-helping, and even bringing in mediums who can predict the future and talk to our deceased loved ones. That’s the hook, you’ve got us to love you, the kind of love which never goes away. THEN … you open a Wacky Tobacky store to get us all nice and lit and ready for some munchies. As we’re sitting on the couch unable to more than giggle at our ferns, you buy some commercial time and tell us about your snack making Healthblender, which we absolutely need because we’re munchy’er than shit at that point, but we don’t have quite enough to buy it, so we go online to your Money Dealin’ store and get a quick loan that is quickly deposited into our bank account which we then immediately use to purchase our high speed fruit mixer, sending that money directly back to you. You’re a clever one Mr. Williams, a clever one indeed. Now, about that discount.