We live in an amazing, Technicolor, sci-fi world. A world where you can almost literally be anything you want. I mean, you can’t actually be, say, a cat or a polar bear. But you can dress up like them and fuck other people dressed up like zebras and mice, which is basically all you would want out of that kind of life anyway. So, no, you can’t actually be anything you want, modern science hasn’t quite gotten us THAT far, but say you’re a woman and you don’t like that, you can be a man. Then say, you’re a man now, but you want to be a mommy. “Tough shit” you say? “You made your penis and now you have to lie on it!” Well that’s where you’re wrong gender Nazi! Now you can have your masculinity and your mother’s day too!
Wait, follow me here: A man in England, who was a woman in England is now a mom… dad… in England.
Why is this news I hear you asking? People push smaller people out of the appropriate organs every day, what makes this special? Well I’ll tell you. It’s a freak! Look and point at the freak thing doing a freak thing that makes us uncomfortable! Any time anyone different does something normal, people shit their pants.
What grabs the attention initially is “Man has baby” which is not true. A man did not have a baby. Let’s get that straight. A woman, now identifying them self as a man after surgeries and hormone treatments, who looks very much like a human man as long as he’s wearing pants but who still possesses working lady innards, had a baby. Now I’m not saying that he isn’t a man now or maybe wasn’t all his life and now just externally matches the person he was all along internally. What I’m saying is that this is not a person born a man, with male baby making mechanics, giving birth to a child. This is a biological woman with all of the inner workings as such, doing what those things do. So cut it out with “Man Has Baby! Holy Fuck!”… You’re not helping.
But even then, that’s STILL not the real reason anyone is taking notice of this. It grabs the attention sure, but once someone reads “man with left over lady parts” they understand that a miracle has not occurred. And maybe that’s part of the problem. Maybe it would be better if it WERE miraculous. ‘Cause there’s no other reason that the news that somebody with the appropriate parts (the very same that God done gived ’em to make it possible) having a baby should be a big thing to anyone, except of course, you know; God.
It seems, for an all knowing, all powerful, omnipotent creator of everything everywhere ever, this “God” fellah sure seems to get his mighty will gone against an awful lot. Fortunately there are plenty of defenders of this flimsy excuse for a deity ready to call these disgusting perverts who have had babies the way they were designed to, monsters who have destroyed any chance of happiness for the people they just made.
“We have to sit up and consider these things,” Busy body, Josephine Quintavalle, of ‘Comment on Reproductive Ethics’ said when no one asked. “I don’t think it is in the interests of the child to distort nature this way. We are prepared to do anything possible to fulfill the rights of the adult. But I think it is at the expense and rights and welfare of the child.”
She went on to say that “there needs to be a proper inquiry in to the issues surrounding these births.”
To which I can’t help but wonder: why?
A person with ovaries walks into a doctor’s office and asks for help in creating another human being who may or may not also own a set of ovaries, depending on the whimsical fancy of an invisible sky grandpa. The doctor gives the womb owner magic lady juices to make their parts more baby ready. Some time later, usually a couple score months and then some, VIOLA! Baby!
What makes one baby maker less ethically acceptable than another? A beard? Because a good amount of lady ladies have facial hair problems, this one just seems to be more comfortable with it. What makes the soft, smooth mother with fertility assistance more fit to mother than the gruff, less traditional mother? If this man woman had perhaps had a dozen children and a reality show, would the ethics then be less of a sticky wicket?
Trevor Stammers, director of medical ethics at St Mary’s University College, London, said: “You are hardly going to end up with a baby that’s going to have a happy, productive and optimal childhood.”
Now you’re just being a dick Trevor Stammers, director of medical ethics at St. Mary’s University College, London. And I fucking assume it’s a college if it has “University” in the name you redundant cunt.
What “Mr.” Stammers is saying, is that this horrible, selfish person, who bore this child solely to mock creation and “Mr.” Stammers’ basic belief system, has damned this child to an unhappy, unproductive, unoptimal childhood. Because this person decided that they more associated with manliness than ladyliness, but still wanted to have a child with the equipment that they were given, they are somehow unfit to raise a child in anything but a hellish state of Godless confusion.
OR, Mr. Stammers is a fucking hateful douche who’s own carefully shaped world view, molded by a pretty mommy with boobies and makeup, is a living example that how frilly your mom is don’t really dictate your potential future seething unhappiness.
Love is love people. And doesn’t it stand to reason that someone who loves them self more due to choices they’ve made to re-shape their lives, will likely be able to bestow upon their child a pretty solid level of unreserved love. It seems a family with this sort of base will likely be hindered less by judgement and shame, except of course for all of the judgement and shame heaped upon them by the outside world who’s been taught by good, wholesome families to judge and shame.
Read your own books folks. This flawless lord of yours told you to love. That message seems to be pushed aside by your searching out reasons where you think your book tells you to hate and justifications for why you do. But I’ll take a thousand dickless dads over a single nuclear family that says man mom is wrong to bring a child into the world because his life choice makes them feel icky.
Carnival folk, they live a life that most of us could never imagine. Subsiding on the corn dogs, cotton candy and popcorn left over at the end of the night and spending what little money they make assembling rickety fun wheels in department store parking lots, on home made, bathtub speed. It’s the kind of existence most of us dream about, but sadly, could never realize in real life.
Philosophers, wise men, all around fountains of knowledge and experience. Carnies say some crazy shit, and you would be crazy not to get a nose full of it when ever the opportunity presents itself.
So please enjoy “Shit Carnies Say” and pass it on, these are wise words that will benefit anyone who hears them… Or just creepy shit some toothless meth freak yelled at a single mother of three outside the Port-a-let, mistakenly believing they were praying to a dragon… Either way…
Porn. It’s naughty, it’s fun, it’s my best friend on a late, lonely Wednesday night whilst sadly looking through yearbooks of all the friends I never had and all the empty pages without signatures and cool sayings like “Stay Cool this Summer”. Play, pause, fast forward, oh wait, yeah, just like that, pause, on your FACE! You like that don’t you ??!!
Porn. My real pretend friends who never let me down and are there when I need them. Men and women of all ethnicities and statures, making me feel like I’m part of their hot threesomes, nun exploitation, and lesbian trists in a locker room, while at the same time making me feel small and stamina-deprived, but they don’t judge.
Porn. No rules, do who you want, how you want, when you want, where you want. Midgets, horses, bound in leather, wearing costumes, on your back, in your back, bare back, shack a lack. Except for now … there is a rule, a NEW rule.
Condoms. Necessary. MANDATORY !!
Here’s all the verby verbage … The “Safer Sex In The Adult Film Industry Act” would require “any person or entity directly engaged in the creation of adult films who is issued a permit” to “maintain engineering and work practice controls, including the provision of and required use of condoms, sufficient to protect employees from exposure to blood or other potentially infectious materials consistent with state law.” This was laid out by the city council of Los Angeles City stating that all that above nonsense has to be done if filming within the city. Whatever the fuck that means. And where do I get a permit? I’d like a permit.
It’s quite apparent that these “people” who “voted” and made this into a law have never seen porn where the dude is wearing a condom. It’s horrible! How much feeling do you think he’s really experiencing? None. And what if the receiver has a latex allergy? HMMMMM? Think how depressed these actors are going to become. Where is the fun in waking up, heading to work and knowing you’re gonna have boring old condom sex? Nowhere, that’s where. That’s like asking a Starbuck’s employee to come to work but not being able to drink any of the coffee, asking a dentist to show up to put in a cavity but not getting to use a drill, or worse, taking away a lawyers ability to sue !!
Come on LA, give the porner’s a break. Let them hump away the way they were meant to, naked and slippery. Nobody wants to see a lite green sheathed pecker goin’ in and out of anything, it’s just wrong. What’s next? You gonna pass a law mandating that porn stars get married before they film?
Ahhhhh yes, the glorious moustache !! The Fu Manchu, the Dali, the Handlebars, the Copstache, the Creepy Van Guy … HEY WAIT !! We’ve all seen them, and we all LOVE them. They’ve been around far longer than anyone probably would dare to guess. The first documented ‘stache of lovliness was depicted, coincidentally enough, on a carpet from 300 B.C. But I digress. There is just something masculinely magical about this lip carpet that makes everyone stare in awe. Magical enough to make you want to give us money for growing one, right? RIGHT ?!?! Enter … MOVEMBER !!
We here at Van Full of Candy are always up for a good ol’ fashioned contest/shindig/fundraiser sort of deal where the end result is a hairy bush right under nose that’s long enough to lick the lunch nuggets out of without using a napkin, whilst raising some fun-money for cancer awareness. So … the way Movember works is …
1. On November 1st, we must shave our little baby-butt faces smooth.
2. Go by the name of Mo Bros
3. Groom, trim and wax our newly sprouted mooostaches into something fancy over the next 30 days
4. Get people to join our team and/or give a small donation to reach our goal of $200
5. Look awesome
So here we are at day 1 of Movember cleanshaven and ready for action, and here’s the proof: