Tag Archives: god

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

8 Dec

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This Time For Realzies: Judgement Day, Part 2: The Judgementing

20 Oct

Uh-oh, remember back in May, how the world was supposed to end with a bunch of goody goodies floating up into heaven and flashing their balls at us? And then remember how that didn’t happen and it was all hilarious? And remember how we all laughed at the guy who said the world was going to end with sack flashing god flights? And he was all like, “Well fuck you, it did happen, it was just invisible and you’ll see in six months when you’re starin’ up at my taint!” And we were all like, “Yeah, what ever crazy man, go be crazy somewhere else while we get back to not worrying about angry invisible rapture.”

"Who's got two thumbs and is gonna fuck your shit up? This God!"

"Who's got two thumbs and is gonna fuck your shit up? This God!"

Well, do you remember what day he said it was going to really happen for realzies this time? Well you know who DOES remember? Jesus.

Tomorrow, at “when ever you see believers in the sky” o’clock, this stupid little stupid planet full of stupid is gonna be over! It’s really going to happen this time! Seriously guys!

Have you noticed how many earthquakes there’ve been recently? Why, I read that just today there was one in San Francisco. SAN FRANCISCO of all places, experiencing an earth quake, co-incidentally the DAY BEFORE THE PREDICTED END OF THE FUCKING WORLD!? Did I say co-incidence? I meant NOT A GOD DAMNED CO-INCIDENCE AT ALL! And what about those floods and hurricanes and, you know, stuff. The world is flying apart at the seams people! Open your eyes!

I for one am here and now proclaiming my life long love of God and Jesus and everybody. Peter and Luke and who ever else. John, there was a John, right? I love all those mother fuckers. I always have, and I know that they’d never let their biggest fan be swallowed whole by this dying shit ball that I’ll be so glad when its gone! I’m gonna be kickin’ it up in heaven, with like, eighty tight angel ladies all complimenting me on my love of god and my indeterminate amount of abs. Me and JC and the Father, we’re all gonna hang out and laugh at the world writhing in agony below us, tip back a couple Four Lokos and play a little game of “No YOU’RE more awesome.” It’s gonna be so amazing and you’re not even gonna be there.

What? Wait, what? God’s not accepting any more applicants. On May 21st we were all judged and he’s just needed the last six months to warm up his planet splitter chain saw? Well that’s, that’s not really fair. I mean, I’ve just been comparison shopping. Like any good spiritual being, I’ve been pricing out deities, trying to find which one was right for me. ‘Cause, isn’t that what it says in the Bible, “Thou shalt have a fair amount of time to look around and make sure that you’re absolutely positive that you’ve made the best decision for you about having no other Gods before me.”? That’s in there somewhere, right?! RIGHT!?!

"Sorry bro, you are ska-rood,"

"Sorry bro, you are ska-rood,"

Oh science, I’m fucked! I’m fucked, you’re fucked, we’re all double plus super fucked! Alright, you know what? Fine. I’m good with that. I’ve lived a full, meaningful… productive… happy… life.

NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Oh Darwin! Oh Einstein! Newton help me! Alright, it’s not too late. I’ve got, I don’t know, some amount of time between eight and thirty-two hours left. If I’m going to hell I’m going there like I’ve got a god damned rocket strapped to my balls!

If I hurry, I’ve still got enough time to murder a drug dealer, have sex with the corpse, steal their drugs, sell them to a kindergarten class, maybe blow up a petting zoo. Oooh! I know! I’ll steal a car with a baby in the back seat, drive it through a handicapped nun picnic before finally crashing it into the river and lighting it on fire. Then, I’ll take a stack of Bibles that I’ve been saving for just such an occasion and give them a gathered crowd of homosexuals and feminists and activist judges and abortion doctors and we’ll all stand around in a big circle and jerk each other off onto them! Afterwards, we can sacrifice a new born lamb to, I don’t know, the wind or some shit.

Unless of course you’ll still have me Jesus, in which case, I’ll try not to do most of that.

Good luck with Hell suckers! Or… See you in Hell suckers!

AAAHHHHHH!!! (Apocalypse Edition: Parte the Somethingth)

2 Aug

It’s the end of the world! Oh sweet Jesus who up until this very moment when you might actually be of some use to me, I have heretofore ignored and denied, IT’S THE END OF THE MONKEY FIGHTING WORLD!

Don’t believe me?! Well fuck you! ‘Cause it’s real Jack! You’re dead! I’m dead! We’re all fuckin’ dead and we don’t even know it! But I do! I know it! You don’t, but I do! I know it! I know it and now you know it! So fuckin’ disregard the first part of this statement! Because now you know it JACK! WE’RE FUCKIN’ DEAD!

Alright… Okay… Alright… Breathe… Deep breath. New pants. Liquor. More liquor. More pants. Alright.

I can’t stop crying. And I’m not sure if it’s from fear or joy. Or foy… or, jear… But the end of days is at hand people. Oh yeah, call me a lunatic, as I have called many others in the past. It’s easy, just look: “I’m a fucking nut job crazy person who’s blind faith in the unseeable is as sad as it is moronic. Someone should put this pathetic excuse for me out of my misery, if just so that I don’t get to see the coming end of the world that I’m waiting for.” See, just that easy, I’ve belittled and discredited myself in one swift movement… Wow, I’m kind of a dick…

But you may be wondering why I’m now so convinced that the end is here and now. Why, after so often calling fans of the smiting lord blithering nut candy, I am now so certain that I’m going to be paying for my heresy unless I start sucking the blithering nut candy of those who can put in a good word with king nut candy… Who I should probably start referring to as my personal lord and savior, because continuing to call him hurtful names is probably doing very little to help my standing.

Well I’ll tell you why. THIS SHIT IS WHY!

Lake turned to blood. That’s some OT (Old Testament) shit right there son! That’s vengeful, child killing, world flooding, here’s my delicious fruit that you can live around but better not even think of enjoying, mountain top thou-shalt-not shit right there! And this is in Texas, where God is only slightly less worshiped than High School football, so this is some serious business!

Now sure, you can try to use some godless sciencey ”facts” and “non-freaking out rational thought” to explain this lake suddenly and miraculously turning to blood. You can SAY that it’s more likely the result of Chromatiacea bacteria thriving in oxygen-deprived water that is killing the fish of this almost dried up stagnant, drought ravaged reservoir giving it the delicious, thick hearty blood like tint. But that’s exactly what a godless heathen like you WOULD say if you weren’t so damned busy killing babies and drinking their juices at your gay orgy weddings for communists!

But you know what, since I’m now a warrior of Christ, ready and waiting to be raised from this damned place to my rightful station in the mutha fuckin’ CLOUDS, I can take your flimsy argument and just Goddize it up any damned way! Droughts? This is the result of droughts? Well, what exactly is a drought, except a reverse flood? And who’s literature’s biggest flood lover? MY SKY MONSTER!– NO! Not… Not sky monster. What’s the other thing, the– OH! My God… person. Lord? Something… And a bunch of dead fish? That’s some kind of tragedy? Fish are a bunch of lazy freeloaders just swimmin’ back and forth over our borders drinkin’ their own poop. Build the dang water fence!

"Oh yeah, that shit is on."

"Oh yeah, that shit is on."

And speaking of the reportedly “Good” book which I fully intend on reading as soon as I get the chance; this is all in there, warning us from Heavenland that this day would come. Indiana preacher Paul Begley went to the YouTubes to tell the world about it.

“The second angel poured out his bowl on the sea, and it turned into blood like that of a dead person, and every living thing in the sea died,” my new best friend Mr. Preacher Pastor Begley Poperson said. “The third angel poured out his bowl on the rivers and springs of water, and they became blood.” 

IT’S RIGHT THERE! The order doesn’t matter, I seem to recall making up something about Jesus or one of the others saying something about “The first being the last and the third being the first.” or some such nonsensical, contradictory shit used specifically to help my narrative! Bowls are being poured people, and that’s the important part. Blood bowls. Angels, with bowls filled with blood, are pouring them into our reservoirs and killing our fish! And if that ain’t 100% scripture proof, then I don’t know what the fuck is… But that’s probably just because I don’t know what the fuck is. 

So this is it folks, it’s fer rillzies this time. End of the world time. Unless it isn’t, in which case next time will absolutely be it. You see, God knows it’s not the eternity of gnashing and wailing that will be the true torment for the nonbelievers and sinners of the world: it’s the anticipation that really gets ‘em…

Hail whom ever is willing to accept me into which ever afterlife is true!

Bases covered.

VFoC “LIVE” on The Comedy Buffet’s Podcast

22 Jun

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

Anarchgay in the USA

16 Jun

Every time a gay thinks about marrying, God gets punched in the taint by the Devil and a kitten sucks a dick.

Footballman Tyree, famous for holding ball to his head doesn't want two men to legally do same under God.

Footballman Tyree, famous for holding ball to his head doesn't want two men to legally do same under God.

A same-sex marriage bill is currently working its way through the New York state legislature which can only mean one thing, Jesus is warming up his wave machine while solemnly shaking his head in disappointment with us all. How do I know this? Because the Wide Receiver of the Apocalypse has deliver unto us our one and only warning.

You see, in a video released Wednesday by the National Organization for Marriage, former super bowling footballist David Tyree pleads for our continued discrimination against a people solely because we think the way they touch parts is icky, not just because God says so, but because God says so and, you know, for the children.

“You can’t teach something that you don’t have,” Tyree said in the video. “So two men will never be able to teach a woman how to be a woman.”

To say the statement by this ball hugging man in tight, tight knee pants is ignorant on the surface of it would be a disservice to the additional ignorance below the surface. The obvious implication here not only slights the ability of same-sex couples to raise a child, which as I’ve chronicled recently is nigh biologically impossible, but it also automatically implies that single parents raising a child of the opposite sex of them are doing it wrong. UNLESS of course, this statement is only meant to say that two parents of the same gender automatically negate any teaching they are attempting to pass on to their child, simply by the power of their reproductive organs not interlocking like Voltron limbs in the manner in which this ex-group man showerer deems Biblically correct. Because unless that’s the case he’s making, all children of divorce or any other single parentage should automatically be taken from their homes the second it is not populated by two alternately gendered parental figures, you know, for their own well being.

But the other bit of ignorance about the statement that probably bothers me more is a more stereotype based bit of observation. Two gay men would likely raise a better woman than a hundred straight women and two lesbian women would undoubtedly raise a better man than a dozen dozen hetro blokes. Or maybe that’s my ignorance clouding his ignorance in a hot, steamy ignorance sauna, so foggy from the drippy steam, just groping for answers, hands, grasping things that they might not normally if they could see clearly, it may be wrong elsewhere, but right here, right now, there’s nothing more right in this entire world!

What was I saying?

Ah, right, former professional sweaty man who was paid millions of dollars to run from the grasp of larger, heaving sweaty men and his hatred of amateur sweaty men’s want to be sweaty together…

“Marriage is the only relationship that actually mirrors the relationship with God,” he said.
Our Father, who art a total Top...

Our Father, who art a total Top...

Which, if you really wanted to be a dick, you could say SOUNDS a lot like him saying that as a believer, he is married to God, as generally depicted as a large, burly, bearded man in all artistic representations, which makes his statement sound kind of hypocritical. Feetball catchman Tyree can be married to what the community would call a “bear” but other mortal men can’t marry similarly mortal men. That’s kinda unfair really.

Let’s also just gloss over the ignorant hypocrisy of another statement of his objection in the article that:

it is not justifiable to alter a long-standing institution “because a minority — an influential minority — has … an agenda,”

Says the millionaire man of non-caucasian ancestry whom without the agenda of an influential minority not sixty years ago couldn’t buy a sandwich in many establishments owned by proprietors who hated his ancestors simply because of how they were born and the lifestyle they lived.

But the main thrust of his argument is that allowing dude one to buy a piece of paper that says he and dude two are going to be able to put each other on their health insurance and allow them to visit one another while in the hospital, that it could only signal for this great, man on woman bonded nation:

“the beginning of our country sliding toward … anarchy,” he said

Now, “anarchy” as defined by Susan Merriam and Alouicious Webster is:

1
a : absence of government
b : a state of lawlessness or political disorder due to the absence of governmental authority
c : a utopian society of individuals who enjoy complete freedom without government
2
a: absence or denial of any authority or established order
b: absence of order
Anarchy is so gay...

Anarchy is so gay...

It’s probably safe to say that Mr. Tyree didn’t mean it in the “utopian society” sense of the word, so I can only assume ”catchy runny yay” believes that allowing two ladies to scissor the night away as legally recognized wife and wife will somehow bring about the total collapse of the United States government. I’m not sure if he thinks this will come about by gays sucking up the steps of the capital building and ousting our elected leaders by force, or if he thinks that knowing fellahs would be out there sword fighting with their two married dongs would drive all of our countries legislators to mass suicide, leaving no one left to not pass laws out of petty childish gamesmanship or blind incompetence and or intolerance.

Why what two people do in the comfort of their own home bothers so many people is beyond me. If you think two hunky slabs of beef getting married on court house steps somehow delegitimizes your own legal bonding, it seems like you’ve got insecurity issues that have nothing to do with who sticks what in which where. Nobody is screaming at you about the failed experiment that is heterosexual marriage where more than half of these holy unions end up in do overs. So how about we just give marriage to the gays for a while, see if they have any better luck with it?
 
“We’re doing God an injustice by not making his heart known to our country. ”
The bible’s a big book, how about we focus on more than just your favorite sentence or two and try living more in line with the teachings on the whole, you know, peace, love and forgiveness. I’m no theologizisit, but I’m pretty sure it’s what Jesus would do.

May 21st, 2011 … It’s Rapture Time Sinners [VIDEO]

20 May

Ya'll Gonna Burn In Hell ... Me? Well I'm Goin' To Heaven Because I Am Nostradamus Jr.

Well as most of the world knows, tomorrow is the second coming of Christ, The Rapture, Judgement Day. Well … according to Harold Camping. Ya’ll ready? Better get repenting real quick like because only about 7% of us (dead or alive) are going to get floated up to Heaven tomorrow. The other 93% of us are gonna live in “hell on earth” for another six months or so. Sounds fun. If I were a bettin’ man, and I am, I’d bet that the Van Full Of Candy flies through the air tomorrow with flying colors.

Kirk Cameron vs. Soviet Russia vs. Stephen Hawking vs. Space Aliens vs. Sense of Any Kind

19 May

In American culture, there are two widely accepted sky myth stories.

The first of which being that a a giant bearded dude who lives in the clouds said one day “This shit is dark yo, BOOMSHACKALACKA!” and then everything that is happened. Then he made people in his image and decided he didn’t like them and washed them away and started over and sent his kid to check out how it was going and he got stapled to a fence post before floating back up to home until he collected enough crowns and a horse to ride back down from the sky on.

The other popular yarn is that a half dozen decades ago some little space mans in an intergalactic circle were taking in the sights of lovely, scenic New Mexico when they ran out of illudium Q-36 explosive space modulators and broke down on the side of the road. The United States Military was then kind enough to construct them an airbase that they deny exists and built us iPods out of the wreckage.

Each crazy belief system has it’s ardent, devoted followers, and each were under attack this week by nerds.

Crashed turtle person or Nazi mutant?

Crashed turtle person or Nazi mutant?

A new book, “Area 51″ by Annie Jacobsen claims that the craft that didn’t crash in Roswell was not in fact a group of drunken, joyriding frat aliens, but instead, a remote control Soviet Russia spy saucer built by Nazi scientists and filled with genetic experiments cooked up by Josef Mengele. Naturally. So we have gone from alien crash landing, to USSR Nazi crash landing “hoax” intended to freak us out “War of the Worlds” style.

Now, I understand that we and Russia were doing some crazy things back in the good ol’ days of black and white, and I get that Nazi’s had a whimsical sense of humor that was often a little heady and it was sometimes hard to see how throwing a Banana cream pie filled with genetically mutated astronauts at Nevada might be hilarious. The main problem with this argument though is trying to replace one fantastical, difficult to believe story, with another story that sounds like was left scribbled on a napkin by Quentin Tarantino after polishing off a plate of crystal meth and Draino lady fingers.

Since we’re clearly not being serious anymore, I’d like to offer my explanation for the Roswell Incident: a race of subterranean turtle people attempting to make contact with the surface world for the first time since sending their lone emissary nearly 2000 years prior with disastrous results, fashioned a land ship which burrowed up to the surface only to burst into flames and explode once being exposed to the atmosphere of the surface world. Fearing that no one would ever believe such a ridiculous story, the United States government, in co-operation with all other world leaders of the day decided it would be best to just tell the world aliens crash landed so as to not send the world’s population into a hysteria trying to dig down into the turtle people’s home and throw the planet into chaos.

Son of god, or misunderstood, murdered turtle person?

Son of god, or misunderstood, murdered turtle person?

Then we have Kirk Cameron. Some of you may remember Kirk as the dreamy Seaver boy on America’s existingest 80s sit-com “Growing Pains”. Since then he’s found god and wants you to know all about it. Oh, and he’s also kind of a lunatic. But he knows what he’s talking about, like most lunatics, and not just because he talks to god like, every day, or because he was already in the pretend rapture in the “Left Behind” movies, no, it’s because he’s not going to give jokes like Stephen Hawking a free ride like everyone else who’s afraid to stand up to him.

“To say anything negative about Stephen Hawking is like bullying a blind man. He has an unfair disadvantage, and that gives him a free pass on some of his absurd ideas.”

Now, to the first sentence, I’m not sure if Kirk thinks that blind people can’t walk, or that he’s also calling Mr. Hawking lazy for riding around in that chair all the time just ’cause he can’t see. And really, to say anything negative about someone else seems kind of un-Jesus like, and counter productive to a reasonable intellectual discussion. But what do I know? I just usually like to interact with human beings who exist in real life rather than spending all day sending telepathic love letters to a character in a story book.

But I think the more entertaining part of Kirk’s insult is the second half of that statement, that because of Mr. Hawking’s hysterical, debilitating blindness which has taken from him the use of just about everything but his eyes, he believes that because of his “unfair disadvantage” nobody calls him on his shit. Kirk Cameron is telling us that the scientific community has just accepted this man’s theories and lauded him as one of the most brilliant minds in the history of the world, because they don’t want to hurt his feelings.

This fountain of crazy continues:

“Professor Hawking is heralded as ‘the genius of Britain,’ yet he believes in the scientific impossibility that nothing created everything and that life sprang from non-life. Why should anyone believe Mr. Hawking’s writings if he cannot provide evidence for his unscientific belief that out of nothing, everything came?”

Always one of my favorite arguments. In this case Kirk calls into question Mr. Hawking’s beliefs, asking how anyone could buy his blind gibberish if he can’t prove any of it. What I don’t think Mr. Cameron understands is that, the bible, for all of it’s nice words and well meaning thought, is not a receipt for the universe. It’s a book. Unless I missed something, it’s as much proof of the existence of god and an afterlife as Mr. Hawking’s assertion that the afterlife is a “fairy story for people afraid of the dark”. Kirk saying it is doesn’t mean it is and his argument is that since Stephen Hawking can’t prove definitively exactly how the universe came into being that makes anything he ever says on the subject nothing more than the ravings of a perpetually pitied blind asshole. And when that’s the position you’re going to start this discussion from, where the hell do we possibly go from there?

So in the end, what do we have? We’re left with the choice between Alien visitation gone wrong or Soviet Nazi prank and the views of the existence of the universe as proposed by Stephen Hawking or not unproved sufficiently to Kirk Cameron. Who wins in any of these arguments? I mean, besides me that is, ’cause I can write about these kinds of crazy all day long.

Crisis in the Holy Land: Biebs vs. Heebs

13 Apr

As regular readers know, we at Van Full of Candy have a love, hate, stab, caress relationship with a certain young pop super star whose name shall be mentioned many dozen times throughout this article. Whether it’s his disappointment in and hatred of rape victims, or his world shaking follicle styling decisions, we have been there every step of the way over the last three plus months of our official existence. Bieber gives us life, his floppy headed stupidity nourishes us, it feeds our machine so that we might feast upon him again.

And so, hearing the news that the Bieb was taking his healing message to the planet’s most picked at open sore, I couldn’t help but be intrigued at the potentially horrible possibilities. And as usual, when it comes to matters of tact and sense, JBiZzle doesn’t disappoint.

"Stop taking pictures of me! I just want my privacy, gosh!"

"Stop taking pictures of me! I just want my privacy, gosh!"

Justin apparently touched down in the promised land on Monday as part of his “My World” tour. The arrogance and ignorance makes me stronger! I can’t help but giggle at the gall of this little oblivious twat prancing through Perpetualwarslavia with his smoldering hot Canadianess and his utter lack of personal awareness as he takes a walk about across the face of His World. It truly makes me want to punch him in the face with the fist of a million holocaust ghosts. If only Justin had been around a little sooner, perhaps with the power of his disarming wink he could have shown that mean ol’ Adolph that his pursuits were pointless, this is Bieber’s world, and his alone.

A day doesn’t go by that we’re not reminded that America is a Christian Nation and as such, Jesus grew up in Bethlehem, Colorado, so I’m not sure where this beaver pelt wearing, igloo humping Canadian gets off trying to get all uppity that he’s being pestered by paparazzi while trying to visit our God’s explodey birthplace.

We of course know about every tiny perceived hardships that the Bieb is experiencing because of his personal telepathic link to the internets, Twitter. Through his twitter account he has shared his twelve trials, whining about the paparazzi that ”They should be ashamed of themselves. Take pictures of me eating but not in a place of prayer, ridiculous ” and “You would think paparazzi would have some respect in holy places. All I wanted was the chance to walk where Jesus did here in Israel,” And Justin is absolutely right! Finally something I can agree with him completely on. Why can’t the paparazzi show the same level of respect for these holy places that Justin is tweeting that he has… from these holy places. Just because he’s walking in the footsteps of the Christ, doesn’t mean he has to put down his smart phone long enough to actually look around and be respectful of what and where it is that he is bitching about not being respected at. And of course there is no more divine expression of one’s respect and reverence than in the form of a 140 character kvetch. Twitter is the ultimate tool in circumventing damnation from the sin of Hubris, because while you are vainly boasting about your importance and value, you’re only doing it in bite sized portions, so clearly it doesn’t count.

Then you toss on top of all of this there’s the political theatre of snubbing and finger pointing. Justin, rightfully expected an audience with Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu, because he clearly has nothing better to do than to shake hands with a seventeen year old pop star with a delusional sense of self worth. Netanyahu wanted to bring in some kids that earlier in the week had been shot at by rockets and as we all know Justin is allergic to human tragedy and it all became a big kerfuffle and now everyone’s blaming everyone else for a pointless meeting between two people who have no business ever meeting in the first place never happening at all. And we’re all the lesser for it. Somehow.

Now, I know that Justin isn’t doing anything out of malice or with any sort of forethought. He’s a self absorbed child with more money than any of us will ever see if we lived to be three million, and no one telling him no. He’s being no more disrespectful and oblivious than any North American child his age would be. The only difference is that his inane bullshit is being heard by millions of followers. But naturally, we can’t stay mad at you Justin, you’re just too adorable and precocious. So here is a little something we whipped together in your honour (the extra ”u” is for extra Canadian), celebrating our undying love of all things Bieber, combined with my unbridled insanity.

So I invite you all to enjoy the first installment of a potentially limitless part series. Van Full of Candy proudly presents: Bieber Shots!

Bieber Shots #1: Click to enjoy.

Bieber Shots #1: Click to enjoy.

At Least 72% of Fox News Poll Responders to Burn in Hell

25 Mar

I’m not a religious man. I’ve been known to call God a “fucking dick“, a “thin skinned deity who throws a bitch fit every time something doesn’t go his way” and a “bearded sky douche” among many other unkind things. We don’t exchange Christmas cards, or as he insists on correcting me every fucking time, Birthday cards. But that doesn’t change the fact that many people are.

"Ha-HA! Back again! You bettah rekkanize!"

"Ha-HA! Back again! You bettah rekkanize!"

Of course all religions believe that theirs is the one true God. They read His book, buy His merchandise and hang out at His house every week, telling Him how great He is, hoping that if they suck up hard enough they’ll get on His guest list. And I guess that’s a fine system for billions of people around the world, so who am I to knock it. One of the problems with that system though, is that it is mostly based in fear. Now they say that theirs is a God of love and peace and sandwiches and reach arounds, but if you really flip through the manuscript, you’ll find that there’s usually a pretty hard line in there about how much you’re supposed to say how awesome He is or you will fucking melt until forever comes! That seems harsh. You would think that someone telling them that that might not be the case would be welcomed with open, as yet unmelted arms. But no, people are perfectly content with the idea that if they slip for even a moment they risk bobbing up and down in a boiling lake of molten pus and filth and don’t you tell them any different.

See, a couple weeks ago a book was released in which the writer called bullshit on Hell. I don’t know the specifics, I can’t read. But the basics are that this young book writing pastor shares his doubts on a literal Hell, where all of those not worthy of entrance into Heaven will spend eternity writhing in torment, sent there by their cry baby all mighty who didn’t feel like you really meant it. And the reaction to thinking that his loving God wouldn’t do that to billions upon billions of souls created in his own image, has been largely negative. People have been told for thousands of years to be good or spend an infinite infinities cooking but never ready to carve and they are good with that. But I can understand, it’s like life on the mortal plane. Because, I know that I would rob and murder and covet my sweet, tangy balls off if I didn’t have the ever present spector of continuous pay cable style butt hole intrusion hanging over me in the prison best befitting the punishment of my crimes. It is only the God of the judicial system and Punk Fucka, God of the tooth punched out forced fellatio that keep me from doing what my heart truly calls for me to do.

Which all brings me back to a Fox News Poll that I stumbled upon this afternoon. In this poll, Fox News online readers are asked “Do You Fear Hell?” A simple and straight forward enough question, but the answers are somewhat surprising…

Old school damnation.

Old school damnation.

First, straight away, 17% of responders answered “Yes. I am afraid my soul could be condemned there for eternity.” So right there we’ve got 1 in 6 people just throwing up their hands and giving up. They know what they’ve done and they’re pretty sure that God is going to be pissed. I suppose you have to respect those who know where they stand and seem to have accepted it. It’s freeing really, now they can suck and shoot to their heart’s delight knowing that there’s not a whole hell of a lot they could have done about it anyway.

Next, 11% say “No. I believe God’s love and forgiveness extends to everyone.” Those people are of course, going to Hell. Because that’s not what God says, or, at least not what his ghost writers say. So their beliefs are heresy and therefore they will share swim trunks with all of the pedophiles and telemarketers that their kind deserve to suffer next to.

Then we have the 39% who defiantly answered “I don’t believe in hell.” Naturally, they too will be joining those who believe in their God’s love and forgiveness for all creatures great and small. God didn’t create a Hell, in which you will to sit out your punishment and think about how it was that you so wronged Him as to deserve demons gnawing on your flesh and your most horrible secrets being laid bare before you, relived over and over again to eyes that will not close and head that will not turn away, for you to not believe that it’s for serious and as real as a flesh gnawing demon!

Another 5% clearly didn’t recognize the gravity of their answer, responding “Not sure. I guess I’ll find out when I get there.” and damning themselves to an unyielding torment as the ultimate answer to their flippant indifference. Yeah, I guess we will find out if your insides will boil, melting through your stinking, unworthy, forfeit flesh, and pooling around your feet. When you get there.

The final group is an uncertain lot, which is why I said that at least 72 percent will burn as 28% responded with “I’m certain I’ll be in heaven when I die.” The problem that I have with this statement is the question of avarice. Pride being a sin and all, is this VERY prideful answer enough to damn the remaining 28 percent to the shared fate of unending divine punishment? It’s one of the big seven after all, so it seems like it matters. On one hand, these people seem to be pretty sure that they’ve done everything required of them to be granted access to the big white party in the clouds. But by saying with such certainty that they WILL be in heaven, they kind of shoot themselves in the foot, an ironic punishment that will be revisited upon them for until beyond the end of everything. So really it’s at least 72% and up to a potential 100% of everyone in creation that will rot in the prison of their own making.

Paradise is a tough ticket to be sure, and really, when you think about the boring fucks that might make the grade, you’re better off gnashing your teeth with your idols in the main room, than sitting quietly, hoping you don’t kick over some bearded shy douche’s favorite cloud pile and make him change his mind.

Outrage Fatigue Fatigue.

15 Mar

Disclaimer: This is going to be a long, angry, fed up rant. If that’s your kind of thing, please feel free to enjoy. If this isn’t your idea of a fun internet time, have one of these:

And we’ll see you tomorrow. For those sticking with us, let’s begin…

Settle down. Right now. Cut it out and settle down. Take a breath. Count backwards. Close your eyes and go to someplace less screamy and hysterical. You make me want to punch you in the face.

Now settle down again, because I probably don’t mean you specifically. This message is intended for the flailing, hyper sensitive, unhelpful masses who lose their shit any time something that has absolutely nothing to do with them happens thousands of miles away from their fat white uselessness. This probably isn’t you since you’re reading my insightful chiding of those noncontributing, knee jerk, bleating piles of predictable mock outrage, so you likely agree with me to some degree. Otherwise I look forward to explaining many of these words to you in response to your key board mashed, half formed responses in the comment field below.

With every natural disaster that strikes some, never could be prepared enough to withstand the very planet that it sits on bucking like it’s got a leg cramp, place, the usual groups of reactionaries seep out of the cracks in the Earth to descend upon those who have honestly already been fucked with enough. It never fails. These folks came out for Haiti and Katrina and they’ll be back for the next time the planet just does something that planets do and couldn’t care less how it affects the insignificant specks that are currently residing on it. Those groups are of course:

The God Did Thisers.

The White Guilt Outrage Proxy.

and the Relief Scum.

Let’s examine each individually shall we?

"I know I made you that way, that's what makes it so hilarious!"

"I know I made you that way, that's what makes it so hilarious!"

God’s a fucking dick. Apparently. Because while we were given free will and dominion over his Earth, apparently any time some dude sticks his penis into the consensual orifice of another fellah, God just loses his shit and kills thousands of people. And of course if two ladies want to maybe get married and raise the discarded child of a proper, unhappy, natural coupling of an irresponsible man and a selfish woman, God will, quite understandably, pick up his planet and shake it like a screaming baby until everybody gets the hint that it’s not hot for him unless a man layeth down with a woman and get it on for all of his omnipotent jollies.

There’s a group of God’s messengers who every time something like this happens can’t get in front of a microphone fast enough to tell us that this is all because we don’t pray hard enough. You’re telling me that this is the guy that you want to hang out with for the rest of eternity? Some thin skinned deity who throws a bitch fit every time something doesn’t go his way. And these God Did Thisers celebrate and chuckle and told you so every time a natural disaster, caused entirely by the inner workings of this planet and not the whims of some bearded sky douche, claims thousands of innocent lives. Unless this disaster was delivered with laser like precision and all of these thousands of people were gay loving gay lovers who just loved to gay, it’s likely that a lot of people who never engaged in any form of gayity were claimed in God’s latest wrath spasm. So how can these supposed men of God be so giddy and excited about all of this carnage caused, by their own claims, as an act directly from their great invisible man? How is that holy? How the fuck does that jibe at all with your supposed message of love and salvation? Fuck you, fuck you and your violent, vindictive, God of slaughter and intolerance.

People digging out of the splintered remains of what is left of their entire lives don’t care if someone they’ll never know makes a poorly delivered joke that they’ll never hear and don’t need you to be offended for them. Given a little time and distance, the guy who lost his entire existence to a wall of water could probably even laugh at their own circumstance and will likely laugh at the joke about the next poor asshole digging himself out of some not dissimilar tragedy. So any time anyone says something that you think should offend a victim that you have absolutely no connection with, you don’t have to demand they be fired or cry like you actually care about the people they didn’t actually insult. You can just look at that joke, shrug to yourself and say “That’s not a very well thought out or executed comedic premise.” and go on about your day, or you can chuckle quietly to yourself while silently hating being amused by something that really doesn’t affect you in the first place.

You didn’t care about any of these people a minute before you heard that there was an earthquake, and it has not suddenly become your job to make sure that everyone understands that you super care now and that they should too. Fuck you and your disingenuous outrage.

They make games where they take out their frustration by fingering their boss in the ass... I think they're gonna be okay...

They make games where they take out their frustration by fingering their boss in the ass... I think they're gonna be okay...

Japan doesn’t need your help. Japan doesn’t want your help. But you feel for some reason that you have to text them some money. Good for you, what ever makes you feel like you’re saving the world, hero. But invariably with every relief effort that springs up around these disasters there are people who will take advantage of your misguided good intentions and somehow it works every damned time. If you have to donate to a relief effort, and you don’t, make sure you have ever heard of the name of the people you’re giving your money to. These people preying upon the well meaning are no doubt some of the most vile scum bags on the planet, but if you are dumb enough to be suckered into these scams then you should clearly have someone else holding onto your money for you any way, and the guy who just stole it from you is as good a person as any for the job.

Just so we’re clear, I don’t hate Japan, I think it’s sad as hell what’s happened to my favorite weirdly perverse Asian nation, but we all need to just settle down for one god damned second. Do you honestly think that a country that had two nuclear weapons dropped on it only to become one of the great economic and cultural forces on the planet isn’t going to be able to handle a little tsunami? It’s their fucking word! They probably get it. So just settle the fuck down and we’ll be back to shaking our head in confusion at the latest tentacle porn and ass rape simulation video games from the land of the rising sun in no time.

Oh, and free Gilbert!

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