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Your #2 Is NOTHING For Our New Russian Toilets !!

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No thanks, I'll just shit my pants tonight.

Indestructible toilets … finally!!!

Not only can these toilets from the future take the blast of a terrorist bomb, but I can finally piss on the lid and have absolutely no guilt. Seriously! These toilets are made of “ultra-strong fibrous concrete” so they can take the biggest load you could ever conceivably dump into them, and the “fittings are hewn from a mixture of steel and reinforced plastic”, so I can slam that lid down as hard as I want when I’m finished and it wont break. These baby’s are “vandal proof and terrorist-proof”. Wow! Terrorist proof? That’s a pretty balls’y claim. Where were these during Sept 11?

So I guess the natural question would be … why in the world would we need to have toilets, of the public type, to be fortified fucking bunkers? Is there that much anarchy happening within the confines of the #1/#2 variety that we need to take such extreme measures?

“If somebody leaves a bomb inside the lavatory and it explodes, then the toilet won’t be destroyed.” Well thank fuckin’ Christ Russia. You can’t imagine how many times I’ve sat on the pot in a public place and thought “Eff … I certainly pray to Gawd that this gawddamn porcelein pot of bowel-catchings doesn’t explode.” And certainly not on my watch … well … not that I’m watching … but I hope you get the gist. Butt apparently, the drive to “introduce bomb-proof toilets in the city follows a spate of deadly bomb attacks in recent years.” I’m actually a bit confused right now as I type this out. I can’t actually remember the last time I’ve ever even heard about a toilet-bombing. Can you dear reader? No seriously … can you? If so PLEASE leave us a comment because I feel so out of the shitter-loop right now. CNN Moscow reports … “In the most recent incident, a suicide bomber struck Moscow’s main airport killing 37 people.” So, you’re trying to make me believe that there were, at ONE time, 37 people sitting on the toilet at the same time in an airport? Not believing that!

Hey Russia ... We're sending over our secret weapon ... Patty Poopster

They go on to say that “The high tech facilities will also be kept above 16 degrees centigrade ­ (about 60 degrees Fahrenheit), important in a city where winter temperatures often plunge below -30 degrees centigrade.” … So in a freakin’ winter wonderland of hypothermia, you’ll always know that if you’re out and about wandering the streets, you’ll always have a warm place to snuggle up with your honey and warm your tootsies together and share a warm cup of cocoa? Man! How nice is that? But wait … there’s more … “City officials say an extra security feature of the new unisex toilet is that members of the public will be able to spend a maximum of 30 minutes inside before the doors automatically open and an alarm sounds.”

Well I don’t know about you fellas out there reading this .. but … shit … I’m not gonna throw down the $39.99 for a night at a Holiday Inn with a lady of the night or a lady of the drunk-bar variety. I’m gonna be a chivalrous man and drag her into a public port-a-potty, knock out some business which usually only lasts 7-9 minutes anyway, and totally not set off any alarms and be home before Wheel of Fortune starts. Sha-blamm!!

Thanks Russia!

Your Own Private Amityville Horror

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It’s no secret; if you own something, it’s plotting right now to kill you. It’s true. If you haven’t heard about the latest cellphone brain cancer epidemic, then you must have heard about the terrorist babies who want you to die in the sky, or the murderous beds of Sleep Number. Let’s face it people, everyday is a fight for survival from the moment we wake up for our morning coffee, until the minute we lie our heads on our pillows of unavoidable suffocation. But we here at Van Full of Candy have recently unearthed some shocking new proof of other household items that want nothing more than to see you lying in your own pool of blood on your designer zebra throw rug. These discoveries came after we did extensive research of household items that are haunting the very house you will probably die in, possibly even tonight if you aren’t careful. We don’t know if they’re exactly related, but shit, it’s a huge coincidence isn’t it? And now we give you the list of household items that will no doubt end up one day on America’s Most Wanted. You’ve been warned.

I dare you to fuckin' drink this coffee

For some people, that morning cup of coffee is as much of a fix as a heroin addict in a back alley on an abandoned mattress. You’ve got your spoon, your “sugar”, your lighter, wait that might just be me. Anyway, your best friend, the automatic coffee maker wants to murder the living hell right out of you in many, many ways, and it all depends what kind of mood it’s in that morning. Sometimes it likes to catch on fire early in the morning when you program it to brew at 6:30am. The smell of a fine French Roast is exchanged for the smell of plastic death smoke, and being that the coffee maker and the smoke alarm are besty’s, the smoke alarm doesn’t go off, because it too wants to murder you. Another way it would like to kill you is to grab your head shove it under the dripper and perform a Chinese water torture on you. But since it knows that only drives you crazy, it turns on the hot plate and starts to slowly cook your brain until you slump onto the kitchen floor only to be found by some random CSI people who can only determine your death to be have been caused by reckless bed-tanning. Guess I’ll just head over to Starbuck’s.

Bedside tables, those extremely convenient and very necessary articles of furniture for your bedroom. That convenient place for

I'm made of glass just to make sure you get REALLY hurt

a reading lamp, a place to put your glass of water, crack pipe, a book, your crazy meds, alarm clock, or what have you. But what the public doesn’t realize is that the bedside table is the most abused piece of furniture in your house. Every single night since you purchased it, your bedside table has to endure 7-10 hours of non-stop snoring, all your spills, the neglect of ever dusting it off, used condoms, whatever. You make it hold all your miscellaneous paraphernalia. It knows that the cell phone that you put on it every night is giving it cancer and it HATES you for it. It wants to bash your skull in with it’s extremely sharp corners. It just sits there like a sniper, ever so quiet, ever so patiently in hopes that in the middle of the night when you have to tinkle, that you’ll trip on that aimlessly placed shoe and that when your ankle gives, you trip and crash down into its awaiting acute ridge, like an axe through a watermelon. It wants you to sleep … forever!!

That neglected piece of furniture, thrown into a corner and used day and night, we want light now, we don’t want light

Nobody left to feed you huh? That's right! I KILLED THEM!

now, we want light now, etc. Your floor lamp, when it’s on, it’s on, and when it’s off, it’s off. Or is it? The floor lamp knows that it’s just about as tall as you, and could probably take you in a brawl. It knows that it has a nice ripe current of suicide spark just waiting to be unleashed on you when you touch it next, perhaps with your glass of wet, electron transferring Cabernet. Maybe when you’re least expecting it while you lounge on your futon, watching America’s Next Top Model, with your night-cap, or bowl of soup, and your floor lamp slooooooowly tips over aiming it’s bulb of phosphorescent fury into your lap. Tzzzzzzzttttttt-zzzpppphhhhhh … and you’re cooked. Hope it was worth it … you addicts of luminosity.

And last but not least, the aforementioned item that is in cahoots with the caffeine killer, your smoke alarm. The sad thing about this tiny little 9 volt battery whore, is that it’s supposed to save your life and your loved ones and maybe even some of the other appliances if the fire can get put out in time. But this sadistic little disc of suicide wants not only for you to die, but it wants to die as well. It hates you, it hates the fridge, it hates itself. You’re probably thinking, well … I always put fresh

I'm getting a contact high

batteries in it, and I test it bi-weekly and it always gives a friendly life saving chirp. That’s only to fool you into a sense of comfort and safety in your own home. It always works when you’re awake, it has to, how else is it going to suffocate you with black smoke? When you lie down and your eyes start REM twitching, it’s all over kids. Your pillow gives the signal to your bedside table, and the bedside table alerts the smoke alarm that you are Oh You Tee, out! The little connection to the battery mysteriously falls off the nasty tasting 9-volt battery and that’s it. The coffee maker then turns it self on into flame mode, the smoke alarm laughs at everything because it now knows it’s all over. And all there is left in the morning is a bunch of black ashy beams of wood and your bones lying in that bed that wanted to murder you itself.

So there you have it. Please heed our warning based on extensive scientific studies and our addiction to horror movies. Don’t come running to us when your DustBuster starts trying to suck your very soul straight out through your nose.  Sleep tight and have a great weekend.

I'm A Rocket Man !!

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Early Jetpack Prototype : "Assburner 3000" - Could launch you 11 ft. in the air for approximately 6 seconds

Holy freakin’ Buck Rogers In The 25th Century, our Jetpacks have finally been made and are available for order right now!! Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to fly like Superman? Well, not EXACTLY like Superman because he didn’t have to strap on a 535 lb. Honda Civic engine the size of a refrigerator to his back that only goes 63mph, but still, it’s pretty much exactly the same! A human flying through the air for 30 minutes, 5,000 feet in the air?!? I totally just piddled myself like an overly excited dog. Besides the ability to be invisible, this has got to be the best thing ever, only because this is actually happening and, well, invisibility has yet to happen, except, if someone has the ability to turn invisible we’d never know because we couldn’t see them, and seriously, if you COULD become invisibile would you EVER tell anyone? Hells no!! Exactly! So … this is the best thing for right now.

As if white people we didn’t need another way to tragically kill ourselves, such as jumping out of planes, jumping off bridges with a springy cord tied around our waists, climbing tall, jagged rocks with a little purse of white chalk, riding boards with sharks, and even driving to work, we had to invent a way to play chicken with airplanes. Now don’t get me wrong, I know I was hella excited about a paragraph ago to soar with the birds, but when it comes down to it, I’d be scared shitless. Sure, there’s a parachute that will “save your life” by slowing you down to 15 mph when you smash the ground, but just think of all the other bullshit flying around up there with you. Helicoptors just waiting to chop your head off, killer swarms of geese waiting to pounce, another rookie Jetpacker, JetBlue flight #225, that random skydiver … oh yeah, and let’s not even mention if that flying backpack of death gets squirrley, you lose complete control and start a new career in skywriting curse words, or worse … that damn thing runs out of gas at 5,000 ft. Oh yeah … did I mention it only costs $100,000?

No thank you science! You can just take your steampunk hubu-jubu flying contraption and stick it straight up your stank-box ingenious aeronautical asses and see how far in the air THAT gets ya.

Free autographed Rocket Man record with every purchase of a Martin Jetpack

I’m A Rocket Man !!

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Early Jetpack Prototype : "Assburner 3000" - Could launch you 11 ft. in the air for approximately 6 seconds

Holy freakin’ Buck Rogers In The 25th Century, our Jetpacks have finally been made and are available for order right now!! Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to fly like Superman? Well, not EXACTLY like Superman because he didn’t have to strap on a 535 lb. Honda Civic engine the size of a refrigerator to his back that only goes 63mph, but still, it’s pretty much exactly the same! A human flying through the air for 30 minutes, 5,000 feet in the air?!? I totally just piddled myself like an overly excited dog. Besides the ability to be invisible, this has got to be the best thing ever, only because this is actually happening and, well, invisibility has yet to happen, except, if someone has the ability to turn invisible we’d never know because we couldn’t see them, and seriously, if you COULD become invisibile would you EVER tell anyone? Hells no!! Exactly! So … this is the best thing for right now.

As if white people we didn’t need another way to tragically kill ourselves, such as jumping out of planes, jumping off bridges with a springy cord tied around our waists, climbing tall, jagged rocks with a little purse of white chalk, riding boards with sharks, and even driving to work, we had to invent a way to play chicken with airplanes. Now don’t get me wrong, I know I was hella excited about a paragraph ago to soar with the birds, but when it comes down to it, I’d be scared shitless. Sure, there’s a parachute that will “save your life” by slowing you down to 15 mph when you smash the ground, but just think of all the other bullshit flying around up there with you. Helicoptors just waiting to chop your head off, killer swarms of geese waiting to pounce, another rookie Jetpacker, JetBlue flight #225, that random skydiver … oh yeah, and let’s not even mention if that flying backpack of death gets squirrley, you lose complete control and start a new career in skywriting curse words, or worse … that damn thing runs out of gas at 5,000 ft. Oh yeah … did I mention it only costs $100,000?

No thank you science! You can just take your steampunk hubu-jubu flying contraption and stick it straight up your stank-box ingenious aeronautical asses and see how far in the air THAT gets ya.

Free autographed Rocket Man record with every purchase of a Martin Jetpack

How Much Would You Pay For An Ass Stabbing? But Wait, There's More!

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The Hemorroid-Be-Gone 2000

Ok seriously China what the fuck is wrong with your peripheral neuropathy? I guess the better question to ask would be “what the fuck is wrong with your cutlery manufacturers”?

A few months ago I wrote about a man in China who was stabbed in the headIn the goddamn’d head people! The blade of the knife broke in his skull and was lodged in zombie-boy’s cranium for four wonderful years. THIS time a 26 year old Chinese lady, Ying Shi, was stabbed in what I’d best describe as the asshole, or the Sphinxbox, or … well here’s a list of possibilities. She was stabbed in a mugging in which the 6″ blade broke off in her ass, was in there for four months before she got herself checked because of severe stomach pains.

Now come on, is this some sort of joke China? Do you have some sort of anti-tourism campaign due to sloppy mugging tactics in place to keep us filthy Americans out of your country? These stories are just too far fetched, and two broken-knife-in-body-stabbings stories where blade in oriface go unnoticed are just too unbelieveable. I’ve seen the “picture” you’ve supplied as “evidence”, and I’d have to say it would be best described as “The World’s Worst Anal Porn DVD Cover Ever!”.

Perhaps this is some sort of misdirected jealousy against our Ginsu Knives of the late 70’s/early 80’s? It makes total sense. We steal the extremely Chinese’y sounding name, we brand it with Asian’esque lettering and then the final slap in the face, we use your Ming Dynasty aura to sell millions of them. So now you’re trying to duplicate the miracle blade, but your R&D budget is so non-existent that the only real way to test the strength and sharpness of your Made-In-China version is to go around stabbing people to see if the blade is up to spec, but the damn handle keeps breaking so back to the drawing board.

So I guess you’ll just have to make your own decision as to what’s the truth for this Chinese knife implant epidemic. Either she was actually mugged or she came up with the best ever solution for keeping one’s boyfriend from begging to Plow The Back Field.

How Much Would You Pay For An Ass Stabbing? But Wait, There’s More!

Posted on Updated on

The Hemorroid-Be-Gone 2000

Ok seriously China what the fuck is wrong with your peripheral neuropathy? I guess the better question to ask would be “what the fuck is wrong with your cutlery manufacturers”?

A few months ago I wrote about a man in China who was stabbed in the headIn the goddamn’d head people! The blade of the knife broke in his skull and was lodged in zombie-boy’s cranium for four wonderful years. THIS time a 26 year old Chinese lady, Ying Shi, was stabbed in what I’d best describe as the asshole, or the Sphinxbox, or … well here’s a list of possibilities. She was stabbed in a mugging in which the 6″ blade broke off in her ass, was in there for four months before she got herself checked because of severe stomach pains.

Now come on, is this some sort of joke China? Do you have some sort of anti-tourism campaign due to sloppy mugging tactics in place to keep us filthy Americans out of your country? These stories are just too far fetched, and two broken-knife-in-body-stabbings stories where blade in oriface go unnoticed are just too unbelieveable. I’ve seen the “picture” you’ve supplied as “evidence”, and I’d have to say it would be best described as “The World’s Worst Anal Porn DVD Cover Ever!”.

Perhaps this is some sort of misdirected jealousy against our Ginsu Knives of the late 70’s/early 80’s? It makes total sense. We steal the extremely Chinese’y sounding name, we brand it with Asian’esque lettering and then the final slap in the face, we use your Ming Dynasty aura to sell millions of them. So now you’re trying to duplicate the miracle blade, but your R&D budget is so non-existent that the only real way to test the strength and sharpness of your Made-In-China version is to go around stabbing people to see if the blade is up to spec, but the damn handle keeps breaking so back to the drawing board.

So I guess you’ll just have to make your own decision as to what’s the truth for this Chinese knife implant epidemic. Either she was actually mugged or she came up with the best ever solution for keeping one’s boyfriend from begging to Plow The Back Field.

Heinz Tomato Ketchup : It's Monkey Shit Bitch!!

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What is this material “glass” of which you speak?

H.J. Heinz, the makers of America’s most beloved ketchup, Heinz Tomato Ketchup (not Catsup), has officially announced that they will be selling the “glass bottle” ketchup in select stores this summer. They said that they “want to bring some nostalgia to the summer barbecue season.”
I know personally that I cannot wait to get ahold of some of these bottles. To sit around on the back porch with some lemonade and reminisce about summers of old, when waiting patiently for ketchup to slowly plop out of the bottle was just part of life, and boy did we love waiting. I believe it will be a welcome contrast to those quick and easy no drip no mess bottles of the present where ketchup is just instantly available while your food is still hot. Man, what sort of fast food society have we become? Are we in such a hurry that we can’t wait 6-8 minutes for ketchup? Apparently we want our ketchup and we WANT IT NOW! Don’t you remember the fun we used to have shaking the bottle? Hitting the bottom of it with the palms of our hands? Shoving a butter knife in the bottle to lovingly help it out? God those days were amazing.
So, I needed to know if I was the only one who had this feeling about the good ‘ol days of ketchup, so I decided to ask a paint huffer I see everyday downtown while I wait for the train. Here’s what he had to say:

I’m a Golden Warrior! Where’s the closest Ace Hardware?

Me: Have you heard about Heinz Tomato Ketchup being sold in the old school glass bottles again?
Huffer: Hey man weren’t you here yesterday or something?
Me: Yes, I’m here most weekdays, and so are you.
Huffer: I am? Wait! What is this? I didn’t do shit man!! Are you trying to steal my magical golden paper bag?
Me: No, no. I just want to know what you think about the ketchup being sold in bottles again.
Huffer: Man, listen to me and listen closely. (Whispers) I know what they do to ketchup, I was there man! I used to work in a factory where they had monkeys, TONS of monkeys … and they’d just run around the joint and eat tomatoes all day, it was soooooooooo weird man, they would just eat them all crazy like, like fuckin’ zombies, and tomato guts were just everywhere, dripping down their chins, all in their fur, and they’d jump up and down and scream this horrible horrible scream, just like mommy used to do when she and her weekly manfriend would come home from the bar and they’d play “naked couch” and mommy would turn into a horse, but the details of that aren’t clear since I was only 5, but yeah man … those goddamn monkeys, and those fucking tomatoes and then after they ate so much, to the point of almost bursting, they’d all get on this cartoon-like conveyer belt and … IT’S MONKEY SHIT!! THAT GODDAMN KETCHUP IS MONKEY SHIT BITCH!! … Whoa man … sorry, I need to look inside my magic golden paperbag for a second.
Me: You know what? You better let me have a look inside that bag too, because that’s the kind of ketchup story I want to tell my grandkids.

Heinz Tomato Ketchup : It’s Monkey Shit Bitch!!

Posted on

What is this material "glass" of which you speak?

H.J. Heinz, the makers of America’s most beloved ketchup, Heinz Tomato Ketchup (not Catsup), has officially announced that they will be selling the “glass bottle” ketchup in select stores this summer. They said that they “want to bring some nostalgia to the summer barbecue season.”
I know personally that I cannot wait to get ahold of some of these bottles. To sit around on the back porch with some lemonade and reminisce about summers of old, when waiting patiently for ketchup to slowly plop out of the bottle was just part of life, and boy did we love waiting. I believe it will be a welcome contrast to those quick and easy no drip no mess bottles of the present where ketchup is just instantly available while your food is still hot. Man, what sort of fast food society have we become? Are we in such a hurry that we can’t wait 6-8 minutes for ketchup? Apparently we want our ketchup and we WANT IT NOW! Don’t you remember the fun we used to have shaking the bottle? Hitting the bottom of it with the palms of our hands? Shoving a butter knife in the bottle to lovingly help it out? God those days were amazing.
So, I needed to know if I was the only one who had this feeling about the good ‘ol days of ketchup, so I decided to ask a paint huffer I see everyday downtown while I wait for the train. Here’s what he had to say:

I'm a Golden Warrior! Where's the closest Ace Hardware?

Me: Have you heard about Heinz Tomato Ketchup being sold in the old school glass bottles again?
Huffer: Hey man weren’t you here yesterday or something?
Me: Yes, I’m here most weekdays, and so are you.
Huffer: I am? Wait! What is this? I didn’t do shit man!! Are you trying to steal my magical golden paper bag?
Me: No, no. I just want to know what you think about the ketchup being sold in bottles again.
Huffer: Man, listen to me and listen closely. (Whispers) I know what they do to ketchup, I was there man! I used to work in a factory where they had monkeys, TONS of monkeys … and they’d just run around the joint and eat tomatoes all day, it was soooooooooo weird man, they would just eat them all crazy like, like fuckin’ zombies, and tomato guts were just everywhere, dripping down their chins, all in their fur, and they’d jump up and down and scream this horrible horrible scream, just like mommy used to do when she and her weekly manfriend would come home from the bar and they’d play “naked couch” and mommy would turn into a horse, but the details of that aren’t clear since I was only 5, but yeah man … those goddamn monkeys, and those fucking tomatoes and then after they ate so much, to the point of almost bursting, they’d all get on this cartoon-like conveyer belt and … IT’S MONKEY SHIT!! THAT GODDAMN KETCHUP IS MONKEY SHIT BITCH!! … Whoa man … sorry, I need to look inside my magic golden paperbag for a second.
Me: You know what? You better let me have a look inside that bag too, because that’s the kind of ketchup story I want to tell my grandkids.

When Beds Attack

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Are they dead? Or did their Sleep Number Bed save their lives?

If we are to believe everything we see on our Le Tube d’Boob these days, then we are supposed to now be scared shitless that the beds we sleep in are slowly trying to kill us and/or end your marraige, not particularly in that order, and not that either is a bad thing for most people, but let’s continue.

It’s not a quick, overnight, magical killing, no, it’s a long, slow, torturous, water dripping on forehead kind of insanity, not to be CONFUSED with marraige, but the one that could possibly end it. Because our beds are so horrifically uncomfortable and in most cases filled with quicksand, jagged boulders, and the moaning spirits of insomniacs from Xmas past, there is no way that a good night’s sleep will ever be in any of our immediate futures. First the insomnia kicks in, then your back goes, tossing and turning creates the need for your partner to sleep in a different bed, then the snoring, which then escalates into sleeping in seperate rooms, the arguing the bickering and the the complete decomposition of any sort of “makin’ whoopie”. And in that, the obvious demographic targeted for such an utter waste of money has been selected. Let the credit card annihilation begin.

Now that was some convincing theatre. Doesn’t that make you wanna run out and drop $4k on a miracle bed? It sure does for me. But you know who that commercial didn’t fool? The late Osama Bin Laden. That’s right folks, this man knew a thing or four about slumber comfort. He had his sleep number down pat. He is the one sole person that completely debunks any claims that Sleep Number Beds make. Osama spent the last 10 years frolicking in the desserts, hiding out from one cave to the next, then moved up to shacks, and ended up in a million dollar fortress, but did he have a Sleep Number Bed? NO! Could he afford one? Yes! Now granted he didn’t have electricity to run the damn thing, but that’s a moot point. If anyone needed this cushion cloud to sleep on, I’d bet my beat-up futon mattress that it would be Osama, but he didn’t. He didn’t have back pain, his love life didn’t digress, in fact this sleep discomfort avoider had approximately four wives with up to twenty-five offspring with them. There was no mattress getting in his libido’s way, no sir! And up until the very bitter end, his wife, who slept with him on their cardboard mattress defended him to the death, no snoring or tossing and turning was going to “force” her to sleep in another room.

Bin Laden's Sleep Number: Rock2 - His Wife's: Pebble7

Maybe we overprivileged Americans should go spend a week in the forest, sleep on the ground, cook over a fire, bathe in a lake and realize how fucking good we actually have it, and when we return to our “regular” murderous bed, we should give it a big hug and give Sleep Number the finger.

The White, Ambiguously Non-Racist, iPhone 4 Announced

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God, I even SMELL like a Nazi

The multi-billionaire, close to owning the world, old, white, arrogant, eat at the finest restaurants every night, cigar smoking men at Apple have just completely outdone themselves today. They just announced that at the end of this month they will be releasing a white iPhone 4. Just when you thought things couldn’t get any more controversial with this company, they just blatantly yell to the world … “Hey, we’re racist, now suck our iPad!” A WHITE iPHONE! Might as well call it the Aryan race iPhone while you’re at it. The nerve! White! Have you ever seen a white apple? NO! Didn’t think so, they’re red, yellow and green. Although green kinda detracts from my rant/argument, I’m going to leave it in there because I’m sure aliens are green and they would be offended too, but I digress.

You would think that making millions upon billions upon kajillions of dollars year after year you could at least have the smallest ‘politically correct’ bone in your old honky bodies. You would think that coming from men who are slathered in embalming fluid every night with peacock feathers by hot Ukranian mail order brides would have the decency to realize that the rest of the world doesn’t have it quite as good as they do and would think, “hey, maybe we should end this whole race issue”. But do you think they can? No! They just can’t help themselves, they have to keep the white man strong, and on top, and in the lead.

I make so much money that I look like Christian Bale, right ladies?

Well to that all I can say is bullshit! This is a public boycott against Apple and their segregationistic ways! A boycott against their pretty, shiny, white, meatloaf eating products! We must rise up, we must unite against this ivory tower of technology and bigotry. We can no longer stand in lines for two days prior to a release of the “manna” that Steve Jobs and his Apple cronies deem worthy to bestow upon their brainwashed minions. The madness must end, and it must end today!!

A message from the CEO of Van Full of Candy: Good morning everyone. We would like to reiterate that the opinions expressed here are the views of the writer, specifically in this case Jason, and do not necessarily reflect the views and opinions of Van Full of Candy and their kind and extremely generous corporate sponsors. Upon finding out that Apple did indeed make a black iPhone, Jason immediately passed out and hit his head rather hard against the wooden floor. As he was being loaded into the ambulance he was mumbling something about stand strong for the brown, yellow and red iPhones that have yet to be made by the racist assholes otherwise known as Apple, Inc.

Thank you.

Can't we all just get the F along?