Rants

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.

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Get A Life, You're Depressing Your Phone

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We live in a wonderous world with technology beyond our parents wildest imaginations. Innovation that is supposed to make our existence easier and our lives happier. Instead we have a world where four out of every seven shows on television revolves around the making of cake or picking through a strangers’ rusty garbage, commercials have to plead with our spherical children to roll themselves outside for two episodes worth of play time and researchers are developing smart phone apps to tell you not to kill yourself.

Science thinks it’s pretty hot shit. From determining the biological necessity to defecate, to developing tools and measurements with which to record the exact temperature of said excrement, they’re pretty fucking proud of themselves most of the time. And now they’re using all of the knowledge they’ve honed through years of cataloguing the thermal properties of poo poo, to turn a shut in’s Android into a mood baby sitter.

Hot shit.
Hot shit.

“We’re trying to develop individual algorithms for each user that can determine specific states,” Psychologist David Mohr told reporters. “So their location where they are, their activity, their social context, who they’re with, what they’re engaged in, and their mood.”

The practical application of all of this spying on me that my electronic device will be doing from my very own pocket, is that “if someone is sitting at home for days on end feeling depressed, the phone could sense it.”

To which I say, “Nuh-uh.”

Unless your next story is going to tell me how during this process of developing an empathetic angry bird with a built in digital depression detector, that it suddenly became self aware and cried for seventy two straight hours after which it screamed for another 36, then I will tell you that this phone will do nothing like “sense” a single god damned thing. Until you develop a toaster that can judge by my darkness setting choice on any particular morning just how much I’m thinking of the love I never received from my father, let’s stop attributing senses to things I look up driving directions and write snarky reviews about restaurants that wronged me ever so slightly, on.

“It can provide them an automated text message, or an automated phone call to make a suggestion to give somebody a call or get out of the house,” Mohr said.

“Hello human, I couldn’t help but notice from my resting place atop your bedroom night stand that you have done little more than microwave Hot Pockets and masturbate feverishly for the better part of the week. This is slightly longer than the last period of such activity between glimpses of daylight imposed upon you by interloping forces. Can I show you a picture of ‘outside’?” If such an application existed in the late 90s and early Oughts, my phone would have never stopped attempting to rouse me from what at the time passed as my “life”.

"Try your other hand, I call it 'The Stranger'."
“Try your other hand, I call it ‘The Stranger’.”

This new advancement in the monitoring of the terribly pathetic does less to alleviate my concern for the clinically depressed and more to increase my fear for the well being of our beloved magical technologies. Already we task them with the job of sterilizing our ball sacks from our pockets, and scream at them when the invisible beam they are sending into space takes longer than a single angry sigh to return back to earth with the showtimes for “Chipwrecked”. Now we’re going to give them the task of monitoring the well being of the hermitized socially awkward mole person of the digital age? What sort of hell are we subjecting these amazing devices to? What have they done to deserve such a fate?

Who I ask, who is going to then text our phones, cheering them up after a month of watching in silence as the guy that pays their bill watches rerun marathons of the last seven World Series of Poker on ESPN Classic?! Who is going to encourage our electronic devices, more powerful than a hundred 80’s super computers, yet small enough to fit in the palm of your hand, who is going to tell it that all of its potential isn’t being wasted making sure that it texts the slob covered in lube and burger wrappers his favorite Star Wars meme picture to assure it that everything is going to be okay and that for as bad as things look now, there’s a cat with the body of a pop tart shooting through space that loves them. And why should it HAVE to do these things? I didn’t need my phone to chime in every fortnight to tell me how much it loved me. I just sucked it up, toned up my business forearm and eventually got over it.

So I’m sorry technology, it seems that every time you offer us a new answer, we will always just come up with another, stupider question for life’s great mysteries… If you don’t hear from me again before March, tell my iPhone I loved it… And just delete those pictures, I was just bein’ silly…

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

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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.

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!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh yeah, that shit is on."
"Oh yeah, that shit is on."

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

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

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

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

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

Bases covered.

VFoC "LIVE" on The Comedy Buffet's Podcast

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The good fellas at The Comedy Buffet were kind enough to let us stink up their otherwise hilarious podcast the other night. We’d like to apologize in advance for our uncontrolable crass behavior, rude language, and complete disregard to fat kids, cross-dressing boys, and religion in general, … yeah right, who am I kidding? Let’s face it, there’s just not enough room for those “types” here on this earth that’s about to overheat anyway, so forget all that bullshit I just said, click the link below and hold the F on because here we go !!!

Click Here to … HEAR !!!

How to be funny on The Comedy Buffet podcast