Opinions

Catching Up With Unfinished Van Tangents: Parte the First

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It’s been a crazy couple months for Van Full of Candy as you may or may not have noticed. Both members are now freshly moved from their previous addresses, having relocated a total of nearly 400 miles. We’re both on the tale end of transitioning from a bullshit existence, to a slightly different bullshit existence. But the point of this is change, moving forward, letting go of the past and scarring the future with our poison infused projectile bile and razor sharp laser tipped talons… Metaphorically.

Since starting this business almost a year and a half ago we’ve posted nearly 300 articles. Over that time often I’ve started an article, found a story that I wanted to explore, but for one reason or another abandoned, fully meaning to go back to it and revisit it, but never getting around to it. So in the spirit of burying the past in a shallow, road side grave and moving onto the quivering future, frightened of the legend of our power which precedes us, I have decided to dig up all of my half finished thoughts and unrealized articles, spill them all out here and start fresh moving forward. So, let’s do that then, I suppose, since I just said I would…

I even still have a mock up of the letter head... Lazy ass...
I even still have a mock up of the letter head… Lazy ass…

My first abandoned post from 4/12/11 is simply titled “UFOs”. Most of my draft articles are untitled, sort of making this one special. What also makes this one special is that aside from the title, there is nothing else in the post. There’s usually a link reminding me what I wanted to talk about for when I DO get back to it. In this case, I apparently thought I would have no problem remembering what random UFO topic I was so excited about two Aprils ago. But as often as I write about space and the people that live there wanting to kill us, that seems irresponsible of me. I believe it had something to do with the anniversary of Roswell, and I was going to do a mock up of the newly released documents celebrating said anniversary… I think. Needless to say, it would have been hilarious… Delete.

Next, last edited August 4th 2011: “A Generation Waiting For Dad to Come Home”. I remember this one. I was very angry with you for some reason. Probably not YOU specifically, but the royal “you”. Including me apparently. This rant went a little something like this:

“I don’t mean any of this personally, I’m not here to point out anything that I don’t also know applies as much, if not more so, to myself. I’m part of the generation waiting for dad to come home. I’m the poster boy for a decade or two of men and women who are now in their quarter to mid life and are still drifting, waiting, praying, screaming for someone to tell them what to do, where to go, how to be, when to act and when to just shut the fuck up and go away. We are not the most irresponsible generation. We are the product of the most irresponsible generation. And we’re making the next one. And if that doesn’t scare the shit out of you, I’m not surprised.”

Now, I’m not sure what you did to upset me so much, but I was clearly unhappy about something. The next piece gives me a little more insight on the source of my rage though:

“Maybe it’s where I grew up, maybe it’s where I am now. Maybe I’m just seeing a concentrated sample of something that isn’t nearly as prevalent as I fear it is. I doubt it. I know this doesn’t apply to everyone in this demographic, but it applies to the great many of us that I’ve observed. I look around me and I see a sea of dudes and bros, chicks and babes and people who have never really known want or hardship, yet know a boundless sense of self importance and entitlement. A great many of you are reading this right now on a box of magic that fits comfortably in the palm of your hand. Technology that our very recent ancestors could never have dreamed of. But it’s not enough for us. For some reason, we’ve been handed everything that the greatest thinkers of all of human creation could ever be laughed at for imagining, and it’s not good enough, we somehow feel entitled to more, without having earned even a fraction of what we have already.”

What passes for esteem in the "Generation Waiting For Dad to Come Home"
What passes for esteem in the “Generation Waiting For Dad to Come Home”

This seems to be pretty clearly influenced by my level of hatred for, but not limited to, the hollow, empty, entitled, worthless denizens of Hollywood California USA. One of the reasons I’ve found myself back in Sacramento now is my fear that if I were to remain in Hollywood for much longer I would simply implode in a brilliant flash of purple light, opening a tear in space time which would almost instantaneously swallow the whole of the universe. And while I wouldn’t normally have a problem with that, saying it out loud just makes it sound selfish.

“We are a developmentally stunted narcissistic gaggle of preening assholes.”

I do believe this about the generations adjacent me. I say adjacent, as in my research, I’ve found that I somehow fall in a gap between Gen X and Gen Y, an empty sliver of time that classification seems to have forgot. I guess that’s what makes it easy for me to lob hate grenades as willy nilly as I do, looking in from the outside at all the stupidity while probably deep down inside just wishing I could belong to anything, no matter how stupid…

“And the problem with a vacuum of power and leadership, is how easily those without direction are steered and controlled.”

And here it looks like I was about to get into the political implications of a Generation Waiting For Dad to Come Home. The need for a father figure leading us to blind, lazy destruction at the hands of anyone who will scare us enough to get us to follow them. Oh, what a glorious, indignant, pointless rant on the lazy ineptitude of me and my peers it would have been… I’m glad I didn’t do more, I’m depressed just reading what I have here… Deleted.

And finally, for part 1:

“It takes a special man to wear a mustache, a brave man.”

This piece from September 22, 2011, was apparently going to be some sort of backhanded tribute to the American Mustache Institute’s “Robert Goulet Award”, which celebrates great achievements in mustachery and mustachioed Americans. My guess is that seemed to be too much of a one note joke for me to do an article on, which is probably why just 5 weeks later we embarked on Movember: an entire month dedicated to the celebration of the face shrub… Makes sense.

So, as this has gone longer than I expected, I will have to pick this up again later, continuing to do some spring cleaning here at VFoC as we return to the grind that IS online humorism. Hope you all find your way back here, we’ve got some fun things on the horizon.

British "Man" Gives Birth: Lose Your Fucking Mind and Hate Him!

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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.

Cut it our y'all, I'm all powerful. Fer serious!
Cut it our y'all, I'm all powerful. Fer serious!

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.

Is that a beer gut or do you just have a secret womb destroying God and family?
Is that a beer gut or do you just have a secret womb destroying God and family?

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.

The War on Fake Drugs Doesn’t Claim Another Victim

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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!
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."
"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.

The War on Fake Drugs Doesn't Claim Another Victim

Posted on

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!
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."
"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

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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.
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."
"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!

Get Your Digital Diddle On: It's Only Natural

Posted on

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.
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."
“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

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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?
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.
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!