The War on Fake Drugs Doesn’t Claim Another Victim

Before we get started let me just say I am not mocking the death of a thirteen year old boy here. I would just like to make that perfectly clear right away. I don’t know how many times just this week I’ve been wrongfully accused of celebrating teen deaths and I’m sick of it. It is irresponsible and hurtful to my loyal fan base of thirteen year old boys. I would never wish ill on any of their cherubic little faces. Now, with that little bit of house keeping out of the way.

A thirteen year old Pittsburgh boy was murdered by his own stupidity and his parents’ neglect.

The headline reads: “Teen dies after smoking synthetic pot”. At first glance, that’s horrible. The death of a teen is rarely hysterical and that he was killed by some sort of Franken-dope created in a lab specifically to murder thirteen year olds with no parental supervision just makes it all the more tragic. The only problem with this headline is that it’s entirely false.

The subhead sheds slightly more light on the what might be slightly closer to the truth: “13-year-old boy sustained chemical burns to his lungs after smoking from plastic candy dispenser”. Ah, well, okay, now we’re getting somewhere slightly less sensational aren’t we?

Then as we get into the poorly written body of the “story” we discover: “The boy smoked the fake marijuana out of a plastic candy dispenser and suffered chemical burns to both lungs. He was put on a respirator in June and had a double lung transplant in September. The boy’s mother says anti-rejection drugs he’s taken since the transplants weakened his immune system and made him unable to fight off a recent infection.”

So, now we have slightly more information here. Still not much in the way of reporting, but at the very least it is more information. With these new tid bits, we can slightly modify the sensational headline to read “Teen who inhaled burning plastic dies of infection following double lung transplant”.

This fake drug has killed more teens than polio and sadness combined! True? It must be, I just reported it!

I actually did some research on this one, something I often, plainly refuse to do, and found another article about this kid. The second article goes into a little more detail, saying that the boy “injured his lungs in August after smoking a substance known as K2.” mentioning no where in THIS story that he smoked it through the thin flimsy plastic neck slot of Batman villain Two Face (allegedly) and that “Shortly after smoking the drug, the teen developed nausea, a full body rash, headaches and high fever. His father said the substance caused a chemical burn in his son’s lungs.”

All of this forced me to do further research, which only served to anger up my blood some more. In looking up the side effects or potential risks of “synthetic marijuana” I found that the products, “often sold as “herbal incense” and smoked like traditional marijuana, can produce seizures, hallucinations, tremors, paranoia, convulsions, high blood pressure and rapid heart rate.” And while very few of these are good side effects, exactly none of them are what dad said happened to his boy.

Then, after this parentally neglected 13 year old got sick from inhaling a PEZ dispenser, Pennsylvania Governor Tom Corbett signed a bill outlawing synthetic marijuanas.

All of this leaves me with a lot of “Why?”s. Why does everyone believe that baby-juana did something specifically to this kid that it’s never done to anyone else ever. Why, when this child’s actual cause of death was hospital infectionitis brought on by the total removal and replacement of his entire respiratory system in a building literally slopping over with infectiousness, is every news source saying that bullshit fake weed put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger now he’s dead? Why are “news” people just allowed to assign blame to a substance with no actual proof and get away with it. Saying “Teen dies after smoking synthetic pot” in relation to this story is only slightly more crazy than if, say, I were to put on a pair of my favorite asbestos gloves, massage the mucusy orifice of your choice, and several months later you were to die of mecca pneumonia due to your body rejecting your new radio controlled bionic sphincter valve and the headline reading “Blog reader dies after loving, tender, attentive butt hole fingering”.

"Riddle me this! When is a throat chute like a water pipe?" "Oh please shut up."

Now, don’t get me wrong, none of this is meant to be in defense of synthetic marijuana or a condemnation of robotic poopers. I personally think these “K-2″ and “Spice” and what have you are cute and dumb and mostly harmless as long as you ask your parent’s permission before sucking it through a fiery Lego. What bothers me is the lazy, irresponsible nature of this reporting and how nobody will call these people out on their bullshit. And please know, if it does in fact turn out that this kid’s death was caused specifically and solely by the proper, appropriate implementation of this legal product, then I’m just a bigger asshole than most give me credit for and I’m sorry for ever questioning the validity of this third hand hearsay being passed off as investigative journalism. But if I’m not: if I’m right… Well, we’ll never hear about it. Because first people would have to admit that they’re wrong, which they won’t. And death not being the result of evil future drugs sent back through time to kill our children just doesn’t fit the narrative being built by those that don’t like this product for what ever reason. But just because something’s legal, doesn’t mean it’s good for you either, I mean, take cigarettes or having children that you have no intention of properly raising, but just because you don’t like a thing, doesn’t mean it murdered somebody.

God damn, this has been a week. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go take a nap, because in my dreams I’m an 8 time gold medal Olympic vampire puncher with the uncanny psychic ability to sense when and where lesbian sex is transpiring and a magical doorway that can take me there. Then I’m gonna wake up Monday hoping that most of the sharp objects in the apartment are still up too high for me to reach them…

See you then, if any of us make it there without being killed by something whose fault it isn’t.

Get Your Digital Diddle On: It’s Only Natural

Birds do it, bees do it, even perverts in the trees do it. Let’s do it, let’s fuck online.

Chances are, if you’re on the internet (which as of this printing is still the only way that I know you could be reading this, though if you know of any others, please let us know), then you’re probably reading this with one hand in your pants, leisurely pleasuring yourself. That’s just a science fact. Because as you know, every new invention since the dawn of man has come about due to a need to advance the field of physical gratification.

A great advancement in porn science.

Fire? Invented so cave perverts could violently flog their pre-historic, barbed procreation utensils to crude vagina wall paintings at night.

The wheel? Walking from one clubbed female’s dwelling to the next had worn out its novelty. The pre-men of yesterage also needed some way to easily signal potential mates of their remaining virility at the ripe old middle age of 14.

Sliced bread? The Manwich.

So it should come as a surprise to exactly no one that the internets too were created solely for the transmittal and reception of pornographic images, thoughts and ideas. As with bread, people have simply adapted sex technologies to be used in other walks of life. Now, a study done by a New Brunswick researcher is attempting to shed some light on the internet’s original purpose for existence: cybersex.

Krystelle Shaughnessy, (clearly a made up name, even by Canadian standards of ridiculous namery) a psychology student at the University of New Brunswick decided to research the role of cybersex in the current internet landscape while, not surprisingly, cybering her sex. Engaged in a long-distance relationship, and being a modern woman of the 21st century Krystelle did what anyone would in her position, try to justify her deviant nature with a college research paper.

Her hypothesis was that, “where her grandmother would have put pen to paper to maintain such an affair, and her mother would have picked up the phone, her natural medium was online.”

"Dearest Eustace, my loins quiver for your absent dong."

And she’s right. As I’ve explained, pen, paper and the telephone were all invented for sexual purposes. Just try not to imagine after this painstakingly detailed recounting, your beloved Nana’s penmanship gradually deteriorate as she furiously scribbled her dirtiest thoughts into a steamy letter of passion and naughtyness, then handing it to the postman with a blush, knowing just what it was that he was holding in his hands to be delivered to Peepaw so that he might feverishly pleasure himself to the naughty words of his beloved, before wondering what this harlot who could spew such filth might be doing with the rest of her time not filled with scribbling her most deviant thoughts. Basically, what I’m saying is that your grandparents were distrustful sickos who traded sex drenched letters while they were apart, and carry with them, even today, secrets that they will be buried with…

Now where was I?

Oh, that’s right, the office chair hand dance.

“A key piece in the research that I’m conducting right now is, who do you have cybersex with? One thing that is across the board — whether I’m talking to researchers, students, anybody — is this notion that cybersex is two strangers hiding from their offline partners engaging in sex online, and I don’t think that’s reality,” she said.

Here, the fine researcher and I differ in opinion. But I suppose our only difference is what percentage of which is what…

Let me clarify.

Cybersex, as it has existed since the invention of the internet, has been largely two men pretending to be lesbians having sexy chat times, sans pants. That has remained the one constant in the ever evolving intertubes. The definition of “stranger” then becomes a sticking point. Obviously there is some getting to know this person pretending to be someone else. So when do we go from fake lesbian intercourse with a stranger to fake lesbian intercourse with an acquaintance or even fake lesbian intercourse with a friend? Fewer instances of cybersex are initiated between people who have known each other before chatting online than vicey versey is what I’m saying. More people have come together with the intention to come together than because distance necessitates it.

“I think my key thing going into this was to try to normalize a behaviour I think is fairly normal,” she said.

And while noble, and understandable, there is no normal on the internet. In a place where the words “two girls” and “one cup” now mean something that we could never have previously imagined, the wild west of human sexual deviances doesn’t want to be normalized and doesn’t need to be justified. We are a creature who evolved thumbs solely so that we could encircle our tingly bits with them. It’s our teachings over the years that that impulse is bad that makes it necessary to write a paper proving what you’re instinctively drawn to do is okay.

So what I’m saying is: human beings, get over yourselves.

Birds do it, bees do it, all the sickos and the sleaze do it. Let’s do it, let’s turn on our webcams and take off our pants!

Dr. Keith Ablow is Really Angry By How Turned On He Is By Little Girls

While browsing the e-www’s this afternoon in search of the ridiculous and wrong to scream at, I stopped, as I often do by FOXnews.com. I stumbled upon an article written by a “Dr.” Keith Ablow with the headline “Dr. Keith: Is Vogue Magazine Creating Pedophiles?”

Am I missing the sexy part?

I could do a thousand words on the headline alone; the sensationalizing of fear and absurd reactionism being used to draw people in to his asinine argument by shouting “Pedophile” in a crowded internet. But that would be too easy. To really get into the pure unbridled directionless anger of this Keith Ablow, I have to really examine the heat of his meat… Which upon review, is probably not the best way to preface the thing, but there you go, because my delete key doesn’t work.

The entire article is written with the same self righteous chest beating and finger pointing that most crazy reactionaries fling around in a way that if you even dare to question a word of it, you might as well be doing so from atop your naked child throne. But it’s dipped in the kind of anger that makes it sound like Mr. Dr. feels like Vogue is trying to tempt him into breaking a promise that he swore he would never break again. I’m almost certain that Vogue isn’t specifically testing Ablow’s personal resolve, but by the way he viciously digs into everyone even remotely involved in this photo spread’s existence it sounds like it was written during the angriest fit of masturbation in the history of the penis.

The French edition of Vogue is rightly under fire for publishing a series of photos of Thylane Lena-Rose Loubry-Blondeau, a 10-year-old who appears in heavy makeup and a plunging neckline exposing her nonexistent cleavage and stiletto heels.

Immediately Dr. Keith begins his article by forfeiting any objectivity, journalistic integrity or grammatical competency with his opening salvo. The battle is effectively over before it has begun. By saying that Vogue is “rightly under fire” Dr. Keith makes his feelings perfectly clear while telling us about a “plunging neckline exposing her nonexistent cleavage and stiletto heels”  it’s also safe to assume that his doctorate is not in medicine, or he’s been jerking it so hard and for so long that his eyes are crossed. 

Blondeau’s beauty has been compared to that of film icon Brigitte Bardot. She is, however, most likely years away from puberty and more years away from being able to have a consensual sexual relationship with an adult.

I could make a couple arguments, which admittedly sort of contradict one another’s point. For one, it’s been shown that with the hormones in much of our food children have been encountering puberty at younger and younger ages in recent years. The other that in France the age of consent is 15 and in much of Europe generally hovers around 14, while in Spain, it is only 13… Neither of which actually matter much to either of our arguments, just saying. Also one could argue the difference between ”being able” to have a consensual sexual relationship and being legal allowed to, but then I’d kinda sound icky…

The images of Blondeau prove beyond any doubt that children are now being portrayed as erotic by mainstream media and industry. I’ve been warning about this trend for a long time, noting, for instance, that clothing companies like Abercrombie and Fitch were selling padded bikini bras for 8-year-olds (without any boycott of their stores), that Spanish toymaker Berjuan is selling a doll to little girls that encourages them to breastfeed (while wearing a vest that has flowers instead of erect nipples) and that fashion house Juicy Couture has no problem finding parents who’ll buy their little girls tight velour sweat suits with the word Juicy emblazoned across their bottoms.

It’s worse than I thought! Apparently the brave Dr. Keith has been trying to warn us for years that the mainstream media wants to fuck your children! I had no idea! The worst part about it though, is how they haven’t been doing that! Those tricky bastards! The Abercrombie toddler bra stuffing I can’t speak to, didn’t really see it. The Juicy pants are certainly ridiculous and while they simply make me groan at their stupidity, they seem to be iliciting an entirely different gutteral utterence from Mr. Dr.. But calling the breastfeeding doll an example of children being portrayed as erotic is a fairly clear example of one of Keith’s own personal fetishes. It almost sounds like he’s more disappointed that the vest DOESN’T depict hard little girl nipples, instead taking a little bit of the sexy out of it for him by replacing them with flowers. Feeding a baby naturally as mammals have since they were invented is of course lewd and pornographic, and teaching children that it’s okay is just turning them into deviants and objects for vague medical professionals to lust after.

In one Vogue photo Blondeau is pictured lying on her stomach atop a tiger pelt. She is wearing diamond earrings, lipstick, eye makeup and a red dress. In another, she looks about 20, with her mouth open and her finger gliding along her scarlet lips. The clear message is that it is A-OK to feel sexually stimulated by her (since that is the obvious intention of the photos), that little girls are inherently sexually desirable and that they desire men, in turn. Why else, the unconscious part of a man asks himself, would she dress that way?

Here we see plainly the conflict that this photo spread conjures in the loins of Dr. Keith. The entire thought was clearly transcribed from the “Doctor” justifying his own actions on himself, to himself, as he briefly lost track of the fact that he was composing an article.

The answer is, of course, because her reprehensible parents (no better than pimps) got paid to dress her that way by Vogue, and Vogue gets paid to dress her that way by selling magazines. But that doesn’t do away with the impact of the images themselves. Men don’t dismiss what they are made to feel sexually about little girls simply because they are looking at a staged photo shoot, any more than they dismiss their sexual feelings about female movie stars simply because they know the glib and erotic things they are saying and doing are scripted.

 

Oh yeah, and any girl who's ever played dress up is a dirty whore.

Now the full extent of the blame is being distributed. It’s the pimp like parents fault that Dr. Ablow has a funny feeling in his Doctor parts. It’s Vogue magazine’s fault for knowing just how to get Dr. Ablow’s juices running down his leg! And by simply changing a few pronouns “I don’t dismiss what I am made to feel sexually about little girls simply because I am looking at a staged photo shoot, any more than I dismiss my sexual feelings about female movie stars simply because I know the glib and erotic things they are saying and doing are scripted” sharpens the focus of the accusations the “good” “Doctor” is making a little more. For one, the photos aren’t that god damned sexy, I would go so far as to say they aren’t sexy at all, but that’s mostly because I don’t think that the ten year old girl on the other side of the page wants me inside of her any more than I want to be. The effect that you perceive the photos eliciting are equal to the effect you wish them to elicit. The question on Dr. Keith’s mind doesn’t really seem to be ”Is Vogue Magazine Creating Pedophiles?” so much as “How does Vogue Magazine Know I’m a Pedophile?”

It may be that something about social media and the Internet and technology is contributing to this trend. The fact that little girls have assimilated glib, flirtatious turns of phrase harvested from the Web (without even intending to be glib or flirtatious) and that they own the props of adulthood—like cell phones—prompts damaged men to think of them as little adults.

And as if it weren’t bad enough that parents and magazines want you to finger bang a fifth grader, so do the facebooks and the Googlepluses! AND CELL PHONES! Dr. Keith Ablow thinks that cell phones make little girls doable. Let’s stop for just a half a god damned second to examine that little throw away nugget, shall we? In the pictures that I saw in reference to this photo spread, there was nary a one cell phone. So this isn’t even something he’s taking from the subject matter, this is just a kink that he’s admitting to on his own. That cell phones, one of the “props of adulthood” make children look bangtastic. Cell phones. Fucking CELL PHONES!

Not only do I believe Vogue is stimulating pedophiles to act on their desires, but I believe Vogue and Abercrombie and Juicy are creating pedophiles by coaxing dark, illegal desires out of men who would never have otherwise consciously felt them, let alone acted upon them.

Any time a child is abducted or assaulted by anyone ever from here until the end of time, it’s on Vogue and Abercrombie and Juicy’s hands. They are pushing men who would otherwise have ABSOLUTELY NO SEXUAL INTEREST IN CHILDREN, into wanting to violate them with their man penises, because of non-racy pictures, swim suits and sweat pants… That’s what this man, who presumably went to school to be able to type “Dr.” in front of his name, essentially just said. You have probably never thought your entire life about touching a child, but a pair of stupid pants has the power to make you want nothing more than that thing now. That is what this imbecile is saying…

Any adult woman who buys a Vogue magazine, or sets foot in an Abercrombie and Fitch store or buys a stitch of Juicy clothing (just to name a small number of examples) is on the side of those who would deprive our children of childhood and turn them into the targets of predators.

And in the end, this rant against a magazine, becomes an attack on women specifically. Any woman who buys this magazine, or those pants, or that bikini supports pedophilia. Supports, promotes, defends, and produces pedophiles. Apparently there are innumerous “examples” of how pedophiles can be created, but “Dr.” Keith would like to simply point out the specific examples how it’s women’s fault that little girls are raped. If it weren’t for moms “pimping” out their little girls, these poor, defenseless men wouldn’t be tempted into forcibly penetrating them. WHAT ELSE COULD THEY DO!? It’s not their fault, they didn’t even want to before things like tight sweat pants existed.

Dr. Keith Ablow, I know this isn’t the first time you’ve been told this, and it won’t be the last time you ignore it:

You’re a fucking idiot. If I believed you were capable of it, I would say that you should be ashamed. Now go ahead, if you ever see this, go ahead and ignore everything I’ve said here and just dismiss me as defending pedophiles too, rather than pointing out the ridiculous, knee jerk, reactionary rantings of a lunatic feeding red meat to the frightened idiots who listen to you, instead of trying to contribute to a rational, thoughtful discussion about something.

Happy weekend everybody!

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.

Trans Am [VIDEO]

Idiot #1: How do you like my new hair cut Moron #2?

Moron #2: That is quite a finely cut set of hairs Idiot #1. I would go so far as to call that haircut “awesome”.

Us: Hey idiot. Lookie here moron. You’re wrong; shut the fuck up.

Has this kind of thing happened to you? Are you tired of stupid people who don’t understand what words are ruining perfectly descriptive language with banality and wrong headed fucktarditude?

Well fret no longer friend, because Van Full of Candy has the answer. Introducing: “Trans-Am”. The ultimate human expression of appreciation and excitement. Wanna learn how? Well please enjoy our finely crafted presentation below.

If you have any further questions on how you should more properly express yourself in conversation, just ask and we’ll be more than happy to tell you exactly how you’re doing it wrong, and set you back on the right path: the “Trans-Am” path!

Wink, thumbs up, freeze frame!

VFoC “LIVE” on The Comedy Buffet’s Podcast

The good fellas at The Comedy Buffet were kind enough to let us stink up their otherwise hilarious podcast the other night. We’d like to apologize in advance for our uncontrolable crass behavior, rude language, and complete disregard to fat kids, cross-dressing boys, and religion in general, … yeah right, who am I kidding? Let’s face it, there’s just not enough room for those “types” here on this earth that’s about to overheat anyway, so forget all that bullshit I just said, click the link below and hold the F on because here we go !!!

Click Here to … HEAR !!!

How to be funny on The Comedy Buffet podcast

Sarah Palin: Professional Grifter

It used to be that a huckster would rumble into town in a brightly colored wagon emblazoned with grandiose hyperbole about their stature and abilities. And the townsfolk, how they would flock to this charismatic charlatan, selling them something they thought they wanted, taking their “donations” for the promise of a better life and happier tomorrow. Then they would leave quietly in the night and the next morning the people would wake up, wonder who that wild eyed caricature was, why they were there, and why they got so excited about it.

It’s nice to see that some things never change.

Round and round! What comes around goes around! I'll tell you why!

Internet personality and reality television subject Sarah Palin is currently cris-crossing the country, a trail of “reporters”, whom she supposedly openly despises, clinging to her ass, unsure why they’re following her, but knowing if they don’t someone else will and people will watch them instead. No express purpose has been given for this continental wander, other than to see the great history spots of this fine country place. If this were a simple sight seeing trip with the family, exploring the many wonders that this land has to offer, it wouldn’t require a tour bus with the subtlety of the bass player for Ratt fucking a groupie with a can of hairspray on a pile of tour shirts. What we do know is that she’s not running for office, she’s not promoting a movie, she’s not really contributing anything to anything in any way measurable. What she does seem to be doing though, is taking an expensive independent study 6th grade Social Studies class with all of the money that people give her because… I don’t know why.

Sarah Palin isn’t going to run for President. Why would she want to? Being President would mean responsibility and accountability and a significant pay cut. So instead she’s going to explore the possibilities, and search the belly fires, listen to what her imaginary sky monster tells her to do, and hem and haw and maybe and could be and if you’re really Americany I just might, you know, for you. Because as soon as she says she’s running, she can’t spend her donation money on family vacations, so where’s the up side? Being the leader of the free world? Who needs the headache? 

Anyone's listening to you because...?

The truth is that she doesn’t want to be President. Who the fuck would anymore? Hell, she didn’t want to be Governor of Alaska, where your only real responsibility is not freezing to death or accidentally eating one or more of your children to survive. What Sarah Palin wants is to be famous. She wants to be rich. She wants to have no responsibility, and be able to, almost expected to, reflexively, instinctively criticize and insinuate and insult, all while deflecting, offering no actual solutions or ideas of any kind and attacking anyone who would ever call her on any of her shit. It’s easier to prey on the fears of middle America and talk about what’s perceived to be wrong, than to say how to fix it and make actual things actually happen, actually.

So instead of offering anything of substance she shills bottles of Auntie Sarah’s Americana Super Tonic Elixir! Good for all what ails ya! For all the REAL Americans. The hockey grizzly moms! The helicopter borne shooters of things! The lockers, the reloaders! Because God put that oil in the ground for America so we should go get it!

Tired of radical muslim extremist socialist Presidents pallin’ around with terrorists? Just get yourself a bottle of good ol’ Auntie Sarah’s Americana Super Tonic Elixir! Tired of the lame stream media covering your every move just like you want them to so long as they don’t try to ask you about your opinions or twist your words by playing them back exactly as you said them?

With Auntie Sarah’s Americana Super Tonic Elixir you’ll finally be able to see exactly what’s wrong with America without the hassle of actually offering any ways to solve them, while simultaneously being able to attack anyone who ever questions the inherent greatness and superiority of this most perfect of nations given by lord Jesus McAwesome to the world as a beacon of light and freedom! These, the single 50 greatest United States of the Americas!

So step right up, no pushin’ folks, there’s no risk of missin’ this show! Be amazed, be astounded, be disgusted and revolted by the Arctic Media Monster! The Sad, Inconceivable, Shameless Thing That Won’t Go Away! The Incredible, Astonishing, Spectacular Neverdent of the United States of Real America! Sarah Palin: Professional Grifter!

Secret Baby Genitalia Are Destroying Our Country

Your child needs to be told by everyone exactly what their genitalia mean to them socially and psychologically but then must never, under any circumstances, ever actually be instructed on how to use them by anyone. Especially not with weird anatomically correctish stuffed toys… But we’ll get to that…

You see, two equally and oppositely frustrating stories popped up in various newsy type web siteries recently that just made me want to tell everyone not directly involved with the current raising of a child anywhere in the world to take a nice big cleansing breath and shut entirely the fuck up.

Like anyone else, I just see this happy baby and need to know, what's goin' on DOWN THERE!"

Firstly, a relatively popular story of a newborn it named “Storm Stocker” has for no good reason pissed off a number of people who have absolutely nothing to do with this particular child thing. Apparently the reason this baby makes so many people angry is that it doesn’t know if it should shit itself like a baby girl or throw up on everyone that touches it like a baby boy. This genderless diaper of confusion is being raised by a pair of child endangermenters in Canada who have decided that they would simply rather not tell the world what’s going on in their infant’s nappy. They have this crazy notion that the world doesn’t need to know the specifics of their offspring’s genital configuration, which for some reason seems to have caused an uproar in a rather vocal group of baby penis and vagina enthusiasts.

And of course, rather than simply allow these parents to raise their very own child as they damned well see fit complete strangers call them crazy and experts call it “potentially disastrous”, while not understanding what words mean.

“To raise a child not as a boy or a girl is creating, in some sense, a freak,” said Dr. Eugene Beresin, director of training in child and adolescent psychiatry at Massachusetts General Hospital. “It sets them up for not knowing who they are.”

So this “expert” on ASOLESCENT PSYCHIATRY believes that the best way to describe this child who he knows nothing about and who frankly, knows nothing about itself,  is ”freak”. Firstly, its people calling others freaks that sort of make them that thing. Secondly, this “expert” seems to imply that the only way a person knows anything about who they are, as a person, is by understanding who’s parts they have and what society says that means about who they are.

“To have a sense of self and personal identity is a critical part of normal healthy development,” he said. “This blocks that and sets the child up for bullying, scapegoating, and marginalization.”

To have a sense of self and personal identity IS a critical part of normal, healthy development, but to have that sense of self and personal identity hamstrung immediately by gender roles imposed by society and dogma does nothing what so ever to help promote the normal or healthy development of a human being’s personal sense of self and identity. Gender, more than anything, inhibits and limits the discovery of an individual’s personal identity, because to honestly explore exactly who you are in a way that contradicts preconceived gender specifications makes people fucking uncomfortable, if  for no other reason than pointing out the lack of choice they had and how fucked up THEY were by the roles they were forced into.

“We all have sexual identity,” said Beresin. “The mission to have masculine and feminine traits more equalized and more flexible and not judgmental is awesome in a utopian community. But we take pride in our sexual identity.”

A child takes absolutely no pride in their sexual identity. These parts that make them specifically this or specifically that mean no more to a young child than an ear lobe or an asshole. There’s plenty of time for their parts to define them later, when it’s unavoidable and everyone around them is unable to judge them by anything other than their gender because that’s how they were taught to identify everyone in their lives. And just because the world ain’t perfect, doesn’t mean these parents can’t try to strip away one of the biggest obstacles in their child’s future struggles for as long as they can while their child tries to discover other, more important things about themselves.

“Identity formation is really critical for every human being and part of that is gender,” Beresin said. “There are many cultural and social forces at play.”

It’s impossible to deny, part of that identity formation is indeed gender, but it should be the smallest part of it, not the biggest as all of the busy body opponents of these parent’s plan for raising their child want to make it. Your slit or your schlong shouldn’t be the first things that determine the direction of your life, it’ll direct the kid enough later, let’s spend some time learning what else might be going on inside it first before we tell it what it can and can’t be.

Meanwhile, in Switzerland sex ed programs are handing out stuffed vagina and wooden penis toys to school kids and the Swiss are losing their shit.

“Children should be encouraged to develop and experience their sexuality in a pleasurable way,” Daniel Schneider, a deputy kindergarten rector for Basel who helped develop the sex ed curriculum along with experts.

When a lumpy thing loves another weird squishy thing very much...

 

Of course, the same people who want to make sure their children understand that they’re a boy and they should do boy things, don’t want them to know what the boyest thing they could do is or how to do it.

Sure, some of the details sound kinda odd, such as the kindergarten teachers being instructed to “show that contacting body parts can be pleasurable.” and “recommends having children massage each other or to rub themselves with warm sand bags, all accompanied by soft music.” That seems more like entrapment than anything else, but I’m not a child sexology expert either, so what do I know?

But maybe the biggest problem for these parents IS encouraging children to “experience their sexuality in a pleasurable way”. These people believe that they should know what being a boy or a girl, a man or a woman means, but that they shouldn’t express, explore or discover anything else beyond their predetermined role. That hiding from them what their parts do is the best way to keep them from using them. It seems thousands of years of history has proven that to be a ridiculous theory, so why not then try to teach these children, who will learn it one way or another, how to do so safely, responsibly and enjoyably, rather than tell them that they shouldn’t do anything and if they do, they should keep it a secret and be ashamed of it. Talk to your kid, treat them like a responsible, thoughtful person, and they might be one.

Ultimately, a school doctor quoted in the “sex box” article sums it all up much more succinctly than I have been saying that the ”the taboo around sex and sex ed is a problem that only adults have.”

Happy Secretary’s Day : Who Says Sexism Is Dead?

“Thank you for calling ACME typewriter company, this is Betty, how can I direct your call?” … How about you be a good girl and fetch me a nice hot cup of jo sweetie, and this time do it the way I like it … two sugars!! Thanks doll. Oh, and if Mr. Smith calls tell him I’m in a meeting! Can you handle all that?

Ahhh yes, the good ‘ol days when you could swat your secretary on her firm, plump, luscious ass and everybody would think you were a powerful man with great baby-making power and tabs at all the finest restaurants in town. A time when men were men and women knew their damn place, in the kitchen or answering the goddamn phone whilst transcribing my dictation to typewritten

I hope someday I'M pretty enough to have a private meeting in Mr. Brown's office

glorious’ness on my extremely expensive company letterhead. The days when coming home meant a warm meal cooking in the oven, a wife to take off your coat and hat, hand you your pipe and scotch (neat), and assist you with your slippers as the tension of a hard day at man’s-work eased off your shoulders as you sat in your handsome leather reading chair and packed in your favorite tobacco. Where have those days gone? Nowadays if a hard-working man even so much as keeps his hands in his pockets too long next thing you know he’s slapped with a sexual harassment suit for fondling himself in front of a subordinate and is taken for everything he and the team of men before him worked so hard to build. Well this women’s lib nonsense has just got to come to a halt, and we mean now! How can we make it look like we actually respect what they do in the workplace? Make them feel that their strides for

They sure don't make 'em like THAT anymore

equality have actually worked? I’VE GOT IT!! We’ll give them a new “respectful” holiday by’golly! We’ll let them feel like they’ve smashed the chains of inequality and have finally made it in our world, the man’s world. And we’ll call it … “Administrative Professional’s Day”! Yes! That’s it, and we will buy them flowers, perhaps a cake and take them out for a nice lunch and make them feel all pretty like. That’ll do it, that’ll make it all nice, see? Us men will still look like heroes, they’ll get the credit that they so deeply seek from us, and it’ll all be wrapped in a nice sexist package that nobody will even see coming.

What? You only used one sugar again? Well … don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, come on over here and sit on my lap and I’ll tell you just how I like it you pretty little gal.