Fat, it’s unattractive on woman ladies. On men folk of course it’s distinguished and rugged, esteemed and electable. Lady people are not allowed to have any of it. Not if I had my way at least! Women are supposed to be sleek, lithe and petite, like tiny baby jungle cats that you want to penetrate with your turgid man utensil. If you’re a girl person with swollen fat cells you might as well call yourself a man with the wrong set of groin luggage!
So you’ll bet your god damned love handles that I was super stoked and all kinds of other degrees of stoked when I heard the news that U.S. health advisers recommended the approval of “Qnexa”, a new obesity drug that could be hitting the big fat lady waists of these great United American States soon. And I say that this damned thing couldn’t come a second too soon, just LOOK at the beasts that Levi’s is throwing around in their latest pants advertisements, or as I prefer to call them, “pantsvertisements”.
Oh god! I just threw up all over the inside of my pants!
No. You are wrong Levi’s! Hotness comes in only a single size, “minuscule”. Anyone wearing any size that is a positive integer makes me want to feed them fish heads from a fucking bucket!
Fortunately monsters like these will soon be a thing of the past thanks to the fine people at Vivus and their MIRACLE pill Qnexa.
“Disgusting Fatness” as it is referred to in modern medical journals is, as you know, a very serious and very real medical condition. People can’t help that they’re food inhaling land beasts, it’s a medical science problem that can only be solved through the liberal application of pharmaceuticals. There are simply no two ways about it. I mean, if not being fat were as simple as, say, controlling how often your face ports are crammed with creamy delights, or, I don’t know, moving in ways more strenuous than lifting a cheese covered hand to your face and dangling it there until the gooey curds drip into your slobbery waiting hole, then no one would be suffering from clinical disgusting, would they?
So fat is uncontrollable by any sort of personal responsibility means, that much we’ve established and it’s a real life medical condition. Science fact. So finally we have a solution to our completely out of our own hands gluttony: Qnexa. This gift from God’s own goody bag of heavenly solutions which he hoards from us until we have prayed hard enough about our hatred for gays, has been shown to help patients in their trials “lose at least 10 percent of their weight after a year of treatment.” And the only very minor, very negligible potential side effects are memory loss, higher heart rates and a 40 percent increase risk of birth defects. A small price to pay I think we would all agree, to ever be desirable to anyone ever again.
“I would say not treating obesity is not risk neutral.” Dr. Susan Yanovski, a member of the advisory panel that voted to recommend Qnexa said. “We have fer treatments for obesity for those who don’t respond to lifestyle treatments.”
Yes, what is to be done for those obese Americans (I’m lookin’ at 1/3 of you America) who simply do not respond to “lifestyle treatments”? Who is thinking of those lazy sloth monsters who do not “respond” to “lifestyle treatments”? Eating less? Exercise? What if my body does not respond to those treatments in that I can not make myself stop eating or start moving because I just don’t wanna?
Well apparently the answer Levi’s has is just stuff ’em in a denim sausage casing and call it a day!
Last week there was an uproar concerning the jean company’s new ad campaign promoting their Curve ID line of pant products, or as I am often known to call them, pantducts… I didn’t understand what the uproar was about having not seen the campaign, but like any good, concerned American citizen, that didn’t stop me from being OUTRAGED about what I was told I should be outraged about. “Details” and “facts” are for readers and stuck up elite know it alls who like to know all of things. But then, when I DID finally see this campaign I was outraged for a whole new set of reasons, not the least of which was people making me outraged on the side of outrage that I would not have taken if I had known what to properly be outraged about!
It seems “ladies” who are advertised to would like things to actually reflect real life definitions of things. Well I’m sorry “ladies”, but there’s a reason there is an unrealistic standard set by magazines about fashion and magazines about magazines about fashion, it’s because that’s what the mens likes ta see! “That doesn’t make sense” you might be whining through your spoon full of Hagen Daz. Of course it doesn’t. Who said it should? Probably a girl!
What you don’t seem to understand is that the women and gay men who write these publications and set these standards know that a wire thin, sickly, fraction of the human form is what gets the man folk all worked up. I don’t make the rules, the gays do. So when Levi’s says that “hotness comes in all shapes and sizes” they don’t mean YOUR shape and size, don’t be ridiculous, you are repulsive, you should never take any form of pride in your outward appearance and you should constantly strive to look as much like these fictitious ideals of female proportion or you will never be happy. Are you new?
So it’s just a good thing that someone has heard your cry, reverberating in your wine glass, and delivered unto you a solution. A solution that will make your chest vibrate like a humming bird, cause two fifths of any of the children you manage to deliver to come out looking like a carnival break room and leave you without any memory of your former grotesque self, ten disgusting percent heavier.
You’re welcome girls.
Apparently we here at Van Full of Candy were somehow overlooked for this years “GQ Man of the Year” awards. I’m not sure if it’s because we missed the phone call or if our nomination into several of the categories got lost in the mail … strange … we’ll get it all straightened out. I’ll need to write a quick letter to have the ballots recalled so we can get our names on the list. We’re a shoe in for at the very least 3 of the categories. And just to show that we’re not bad sports, we’ll show you the guys that “won” last night … you know … until the recall happens. Then we’ll see who’s yuckin’ it up with Charlize Theron on their arms huh Bradley Cooper? Not feeling so tan and smiley NOW … ARE YOU ??!!
BAND OF THE YEAR : U2
INTERNATIONAL MAN OF THE YEAR : BRADLEY COOPER
COMEDIAN OF THE YEAR : ROB BRYDON
LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT AWARD : DURAN DURAN
MAN OF NEXT YEAR AWARD : LORD COE
What the hell is going on with TSA these days? A couple of months ago they were searching for bombs in baby’s diapers, then they moved on recently to searching for bombs in a 90 year old’s Depends Undergarment. But now … NOW … they’re going to need to start fondling all the ladies with implants. Very smart TSA, VERY … SMART IN-DEED! Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a job application to run down to the airport. Be right back.
Actually, no, it’s not TSA’s fault this time, it’s the plane terrorists making my wait at the airport another hour longer than normal. Dicks! What a bittersweet thing these terrorists are doing. Strapping those bulky, unbreathable bombs to themselves is so 2001, and the modern terror-fashionista-ist would never be caught dead with the cliché “underwear bomb” from 2009. Those acts of terrorism were so bunchy, and the pantie-lines were simply atrocious. So what is a terrorist to do?
Well one smarty terrorist has finally devised a way to not only look fabulous, but to blow a fucking plane to smithereens while doing so. Say hello to “The Implant Bomb”. That round, succulent, perky bosom of mass destruction teasing us with its low cut flirtyness, giving us just enough of a show to distract us from the mayhem that it will be causing very soon. Bittersweet in the fact that big fake boobs are great to look at, they might be a bit on the hard side when fondling, but for the most part, great, I’m not complaining believe me. But now with the implant scare, I’m sure there will soon be some sort of new US Regulation keeping women with low self-esteem from easily acquiring implants without some sort of huge screening process, which will then spiral out of control to a ban on implants altogether. Damn you Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab !!! First you take our freedom from safe flying, and now you take our eye candy too, you’re such a prick! However, I am interested to see the pictures they use on the new terror alert system.
Scientists at the Clones ‘R’ Us Laboratories in Santa Monica, California have been on high alert for a new endeavor that is about to come down their cell replicating pipeline. The infamous hairdo of Justin Bieber has been shorn like a little sheep, the exact species that Clones ‘R’ Us have perfected in their duplication processes. “We can’t wait to get our hands on that little F’ers hair. We’re going to make the biggest Bieber Army this world has ever seen”, said one of their lead scientists. “… Hundreds of thousands of little Biebers so every teenage girl can have their very own Justin. Not only are we going to clone Justin Bieber, but we’re going to try experimental tests that we’ve never even thought of doing before. We will be planting some of his hair like the
magic beans from ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’ that will grow the most amazing Chia Pet that you’ve ever seen. Bieber’s head comes to life and tells you positive things about yourself every morning as he swings his hair and smiles at you. We also plan on making a daily vitamin supplemented with the oil of his hair so that you will always have the stamina of a 16 year old boy coupled with a singing voice like an angel.” There are so many things that the laboratory plans on doing with this magical coif that they promise we may never suffer through disease or famine ever again.
Not only are scientists jumping on the
Garden of Eden theory that Justin’s hair will bring the world, but an old hairstyling product has emerged with a breath of new life that will sustain it FOREVER. The only way to cut Justin Bieber’s hair without losing a single strand was to use the 80’s styling tool “The Flowbee”. The carpenter who invented the Flowbee in the late 80’s is beside himself that Bieber has signed on to create a new customized version called “The FlowBieber”. “Holy shit I’m gonna be RICH!!!”, you could hear him screaming from two states away.
Bieber’s publicist said “We knew we couldn’t trust Justin’s hair with any styling tool, we had to capture every hair possible, because any piece that touched the ground had to be burned in honor of the unicorn that died because of it.”
This “haircut heard around the world” is also going to bring in a whole new stream of Bieber fans too. Since the haircut, Justin resembles an awkward 12 year old girl, so a whole new male demographic of tween boys and over 40 men will soon be jumping on that bandwagon as well. So all we have to say is … thank you Justin … your hair and your voice from Heaven made this world a better place, and now, it will make it a perfect place.
What ever happened to the good ol’ fashioned faint? Back in the Victorian era when women would actually faint so much, they had “fainting rooms”. A whole damn room with a luxurious couch just for slowly falling down on with the back of one’s hand on their forehead! That’s damn fancy! But the price of vanity was high with the much sought after “hourglass” shape and women would cram themselves into a corset that was then tightened to the point of rib cage crushing, internal organ crowding and the inability to breathe normally. Sometimes I see this in modern day life, but the corset has been replaced with black stretch pants. But I digress.
These days we just need a barstool and the ability to run up a big tab down at O’Malley’s Mad Irish Hole in the Wall. Wait, that’s passing out, and that is not to be confused with fainting, which is not to be confused with blacking out, which is not to be confused with vertigo, or spinninghead, giddiness, wobbliness and shakiness. Although they all sound EXACTLY the same, they are all different.
Now if you throw ‘feinting’ into this mix of wobbly goodness, you will be totally confused unless you see how it is spelled. Feinting is actually when you fake a move, such as in boxing or MMA when you pretend to throw a punch at one area of the body and actually hit them in another area. Now that can then also be misconstrued as pretending to be injured or dead to fake out your enemy, which then throws another spelling conundrum into the mix with the “Is it Fainting or Feinting”? There is a breed of goats that seem to have it down pat, but, are they actually fainting? Or are they “feinting”? It’s a question that only the goat will know, and goat handlers can only speculate when chasing these poor creatures around with umbrellas.
Some people faint at the sight of blood, some when they’ve seen a ghost and others when the alimony settlement is made in court. Enter, the smelling salts. These fancy little contraptions have been around since the Roman times and are mentioned as early as 77AD in writings of Pliny the Elder, which then leads to another very strange connection with all this. Pliny the Elder is also a modern day beer made by Russian River Brewing Company. Now one would think that if you imbibed enough of Pliny the Elder, one would need the ‘sal ammoniac’ (smelling salt) that Pliny actually writes about to come out of a ‘passing out’, which is not to be confused with a fainting,
but the more I read into this whole nonsense of losing one’s consciousness in whichever way one sees fit, I have no idea what any of it means anymore.
So let’s have one more Pliny the Elder in an attempt to reach the vertigo effect and cheers to corsets and to fancy couches for falling down on when one feints, or faints.