Religion

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.

American Atheists Unveil New Super Hero Team: M.Y.T.H.S.

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Just in time for Christmas: the holy celebration of the birth of the one true lord who shall judge us all at the right hand of the father as we pass from this mortal realm to the infinite of our judgement, the folks at American Atheist have introduced America’s new favorite super team:

By our powers combined, we form-- HONK! HONK-HONK! H-HOOOONK!
By our powers combined, we form-- HONK! HONK-HONK! H-HOOOONK!

M.Y.T.H.S.!

(Mentoring Youths Trough Heroics Super!)

(From right to left: President Chupacabra, Secret Beard, Power Heart and of course, Aquaman.)

On Earth 7, Doug Parks was just your normal, every day, run of the mill live stock de-boner. He had come from a long line of live stock de-boners and expected he would live the rest of his life, going through the motions of the work a day world, removing the skeletal structure from farm animals for $9.50 an hour before someday retiring to a little place that a life time of de-boning and careful savings had bought him. That is until the day that his entire family was kidnapped by a squishy bag of goat meat that called itself “Vengepuddle”. Leaving the rescue of his family to the proper authorities Doug would go on to receive pieces of his loved ones in the mail for the next seven years.

Seeing that there was something wrong with the system Doug Parks launched a successful Presidential campaign on the back of his blue collar, rags to riches roots. Then, one day while touring an alternative energy facility President Doug Parks was sucked into an interdimensional vortex and deposited here on Mega Earth 1A, where he fights to protect a world that fears and distrusts him.

Dwight T. Eiffeltower was a sickly young lad who was rejected by the Army Corps of Engineers when his patchy, speckled facial hair caused a decorated war hero to commit suicide at a recruiting table that Dwight was simply walking past. Encouraged by a sense of responsibility for the Nine Star Admiral’s death Dwight volunteered for a secret government program that he’d read about on a public rest room wall. Eiffeltower was injected with a top secret serum consisting of Racist Honey Bee Pollen and Haunted Low Fat Milk and bombarded with Gramma Rays. The experiment seemed to be an embarrassing failure as Dwight was immediately killed to death and stayed dead for twenty-eight years.

But finally, after clawing his way out of his own grave Dwight T. Eiffeltower emerged again with strange powers beyond reason and a voice in his head that was not his own. Upon returning to life Dwight found that he had been possessed by the spirit of Nine Star Admiral Beauregard Tinwhistle. Dwight knew that he and Beauregard must use their new found powers to fight injustice where ever they found it, and so was born “Secret Beard”.

Secret Beard has the power to make anyone, anywhere forget facial hair.

While rummaging through a cardboard box full of donations behind an abandoned thrift store one Flag Day, Carlos Arriba discovered a heart shaped amulet glowing with energy. When no one would buy it from him Carlos decided to keep the stupid thing anyway then. Then, one afternoon, while taking a break from urinating on his possessions and screaming at invisible cookie people that he was certain were trying to kill him in the back of the alley he called home, Carlos took a moment to examine the back of the amulet where he found writing in a language that he had never seen before. Suddenly, as if possessed by the invisible cookie people themselves Carlos slipped into a trance, recited the words on the amulet and was transformed into the being known as “Power Heart”.

Able to seek out and destroy bad cholesterol where ever it dwells, Power Heart is the scourge of the Buttery Under World of New Oldly: The City of Whenever. Now, when Carlos speaks his magical oath “No fatties!” he becomes POWER HEART!

And Aquaman punches people with fish.

Together they visit inner city youth shelters, teaching children how to fill out job applications and the importance of adequate tipping while occasionally saving the world from the ruthless machinations of The Orange Bucket and his Legion of Fuck Offs.

So where ever there is three for one wing nights, when ever someone drops their keys into a stripper, how ever somebody forgets what they just came in for, there is just one force to scream for like a lost child in a lost child factory:

www.atheists.org Presents:

M.Y.T.H.S.!

This Time For Realzies: Judgement Day, Part 2: The Judgementing

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Uh-oh, remember back in May, how the world was supposed to end with a bunch of goody goodies floating up into heaven and flashing their balls at us? And then remember how that didn’t happen and it was all hilarious? And remember how we all laughed at the guy who said the world was going to end with sack flashing god flights? And he was all like, “Well fuck you, it did happen, it was just invisible and you’ll see in six months when you’re starin’ up at my taint!” And we were all like, “Yeah, what ever crazy man, go be crazy somewhere else while we get back to not worrying about angry invisible rapture.”

"Who's got two thumbs and is gonna fuck your shit up? This God!"
"Who's got two thumbs and is gonna fuck your shit up? This God!"

Well, do you remember what day he said it was going to really happen for realzies this time? Well you know who DOES remember? Jesus.

Tomorrow, at “when ever you see believers in the sky” o’clock, this stupid little stupid planet full of stupid is gonna be over! It’s really going to happen this time! Seriously guys!

Have you noticed how many earthquakes there’ve been recently? Why, I read that just today there was one in San Francisco. SAN FRANCISCO of all places, experiencing an earth quake, co-incidentally the DAY BEFORE THE PREDICTED END OF THE FUCKING WORLD!? Did I say co-incidence? I meant NOT A GOD DAMNED CO-INCIDENCE AT ALL! And what about those floods and hurricanes and, you know, stuff. The world is flying apart at the seams people! Open your eyes!

I for one am here and now proclaiming my life long love of God and Jesus and everybody. Peter and Luke and who ever else. John, there was a John, right? I love all those mother fuckers. I always have, and I know that they’d never let their biggest fan be swallowed whole by this dying shit ball that I’ll be so glad when its gone! I’m gonna be kickin’ it up in heaven, with like, eighty tight angel ladies all complimenting me on my love of god and my indeterminate amount of abs. Me and JC and the Father, we’re all gonna hang out and laugh at the world writhing in agony below us, tip back a couple Four Lokos and play a little game of “No YOU’RE more awesome.” It’s gonna be so amazing and you’re not even gonna be there.

What? Wait, what? God’s not accepting any more applicants. On May 21st we were all judged and he’s just needed the last six months to warm up his planet splitter chain saw? Well that’s, that’s not really fair. I mean, I’ve just been comparison shopping. Like any good spiritual being, I’ve been pricing out deities, trying to find which one was right for me. ‘Cause, isn’t that what it says in the Bible, “Thou shalt have a fair amount of time to look around and make sure that you’re absolutely positive that you’ve made the best decision for you about having no other Gods before me.”? That’s in there somewhere, right?! RIGHT!?!

"Sorry bro, you are ska-rood,"
"Sorry bro, you are ska-rood,"

Oh science, I’m fucked! I’m fucked, you’re fucked, we’re all double plus super fucked! Alright, you know what? Fine. I’m good with that. I’ve lived a full, meaningful… productive… happy… life.

NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Oh Darwin! Oh Einstein! Newton help me! Alright, it’s not too late. I’ve got, I don’t know, some amount of time between eight and thirty-two hours left. If I’m going to hell I’m going there like I’ve got a god damned rocket strapped to my balls!

If I hurry, I’ve still got enough time to murder a drug dealer, have sex with the corpse, steal their drugs, sell them to a kindergarten class, maybe blow up a petting zoo. Oooh! I know! I’ll steal a car with a baby in the back seat, drive it through a handicapped nun picnic before finally crashing it into the river and lighting it on fire. Then, I’ll take a stack of Bibles that I’ve been saving for just such an occasion and give them a gathered crowd of homosexuals and feminists and activist judges and abortion doctors and we’ll all stand around in a big circle and jerk each other off onto them! Afterwards, we can sacrifice a new born lamb to, I don’t know, the wind or some shit.

Unless of course you’ll still have me Jesus, in which case, I’ll try not to do most of that.

Good luck with Hell suckers! Or… See you in Hell suckers!

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.

Cancer? Cured! Recession? Cured! Common Cold? EVERYTHING Cured!!

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Something miraculous came to me this weekend. It came to me in the way of divine intervention sent straight from the Creator himself as my mind was magically opened to see something that has been inconspicuously floating around our planet for about 40 years. Something that is so awe inspiring that only a worthy clairvoyant hand picked by the hand of the Almighty himself, like myself, could ever completely fathom its true consequence. The veil was lifted for me to see the gift that was given to us +/- 14,600 days ago in the way of an instrumental melody, presented through the medium of a motion picture. And it was bright! So very bright!

The medium in which this life changing information was transported to mine eyes was through a Tarantino flick, Resevoir Dogs. A poignant movie giving many life lessons throughout with several emotions being touched, like a virgin, shall we say? But it’s the very last song in this film that tells us, well me, the simple remedy to all of life’s tribulations, and as the credits rolled, BAMMM!! it was revealed. It’s the song “Coconut” written by Harry Nilsson. The answer has been here all along, well for 40 years anyway, and the answer is “You put the lime in the coconut”. That’s it … simple, natural, organic, and both trees were in the Garden of Eden since the dawn of creation.

Now Drink Them Both Up ?

So why did it take 1,971 years after the birth of Christ to figure it out? Well it happened by accident like all things created in this world. For instance, bacon. How did someone figure out the beautiful thing known as bacon? Well, somebody had a pig, and that pig was caught in a barn fire, and as that little piggy burned, a smell emerged from that barn that was so sensual to the nose that only one thing could be done. Go get that pig and eat it … bacon.

Accidents, the ugly sister of Mother Necessity, Mother Accident lead to the elixer of the world. You see, Harry Nilsson was having a Hawaiin themed party one night in the early 70’s, he had tikis, coconuts, leis (pronounced Lay’s, like the chip), flower shirts and limes. He cut open a coconut to extract the milk and use the shell as a cup, however as he was getting ready to pour out the milk, one of his drunk friends was throwing limes and it landed in this cocunut shell. The potion began to bubble and fizz and a heavenly voice sounded through the room, “all who drink of the lime and the coconut will be cured”. And they drank. And it cured their belly aches.

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

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