Finally Science Gets it Right, Introducing: Handjob Bot

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There are many ways to tell when you’ve finally become an unquestioned, dominant global super power. Maybe you’ve dropped a couple nuclear warheads on an enemy, kicked some dirt in their face and asked their quivering corpses, “Now what?!” Perhaps you export all of your worst social trappings to the four corners of the world and poison cultures with dreams of throwing away everything that’s made them special as a people in search of a dream of blue jeans and Coke-a-cola in a bottle. Either one of these are sure fire signs that you’re King Shit and the world needs to get used to the cold hard fact that they’re just going to have to take it for a while. 

Most of the time when a power reaches this level, it takes a while to fully realize just when and where they staked their claim to heavy weight super power status. It’s the kind of thing usually best left to historians to pinpoint years, even decades later. And while I’m no history scientist, I think I can nail down for you right here and now exactly when China announced to the world that they were taking their place as masters of the planet. And it is here:

China is making robots to stick it’s dick in, and there is fuck all we can do about it.

A couple weeks ago at what the Chinese cleverly called a “medical supply expo”, but which I know full well is China’s 4th Annual Invitational Handjob Robot Design Competition, they revealed this year’s winning entry, the “Automated Semen Collector”. Said to be designed for “patients who have trouble getting erect, or feel uneasy with the traditional erotic magazine and plastic cup method of semen collection” and that “this new medical breakthrough may provide some welcome relief.”

I don’t pretend to understand Asian culture and anyone who does is just seeing how long you’ll believe all of the crazy things they’re making up on the spot. In my extensive research on the subject of Japanese sexuality I have discovered that they have a thing for plaid skirts, that no intercourse is consensual or free of tentacles and that their reproductive organs are a cruel jumble of blurry squares. I know very little about Chinese fornication specifically, but based on their development of penis fondling robots, I think it’s safe to say that they are of a similar mind.

"Prime Directive: Yanky Cranky. Secondary Directive: YANKY CRANKY!"
"Prime Directive: Yanky Cranky. Secondary Directive: YANKY CRANKY!"

I get that the Asian culture is very repressed which causes such violently crazy sexual deviance to emerge when you peel back the surface, but I don’t understand how a jerk off machine in a doctor’s office could possibly be a more welcome, less uneasy experience than ogling pixellated school girls and depositing your communist goo in a cup the way America’s god intended it! But I also know that this is just sour grapes from a man who doesn’t have a robot to stroke me off while trying, and failing, to figure out what exactly to do with my hands the entire time. And it’s just made to sound all the hotter when I read the sensual copy that accompanies this Pleasure Nurse:

The patient stands before the machine and puts his penis, flaccid or erect, into the tube-shaped protrusion, whereupon it moves forward and back automatically like a piston. The inside of the tube is lined with a soft silicon material that provides gentle stimulation until ejaculation is reached.

And I know that I personally would be very disappointed if the machine itself did not recite this bit of text over and over until it’s mission had finally been accomplished or the subject tore itself from its grasp, unable to ever stop screaming again. Which ever punned first.

But bigger than national pride or the future of our nation’s economic independence, news of this kind is, I think, the most important reason we need to pay back our debt to China as soon as possible. Just imagine for a second that you had the technology to make robots to jerk you off and someone else had the money you could be spending to make them. Me, in that situation; I’d be super pissed.

So the sooner we get China their money back, the sooner we can get to work on trying to close the gap in this substitute arms race. We’re America damn it, we can do anything we put our minds to and I say to you here and now that by 2021, we can, we will, we MUST put an American made suck bot on every red white and blue penis in this great land of ours! Our time has not yet passed, you hear us China?! Our robots have not yet BEGUN to suck! USA! USA! USA!

All Hail, King Van Full of Candy!

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Good news everybody! Tonight the United States Government shuts down! Hooray! Happy Days! Rock ‘n Roll! Someone get me a chung so I can wang the hell out of it!

Why good news you may be asking? Well you see, yesterday on Twitter in addressing the imminent shuttering of this grand old nation, I called King. I called it. If the government shuts down, we at Van Full of Candy, are King. King of America. That’s just how it works. The “I called it first” edict is universally recognized by all international courts and peace keeping bodies. There’s no point in bitching, you could have called it, but you didn’t. We did. So as of 12:01 am, Saturday, April 9th, the year of our Lord Two Thousand and Ten and One, we will officially be King of The United States of America.

Now do not fret, our loyal subjects. We do not come to you today as ruthless, power hungry despots. We only wish to rule you with a kind, tender, knowing touch. The kind of touch that only a monarch and his ruled class of people know and share. We will treat you nice and call you pretty, regardless of your appearance. Just so long as you obey our every command to the letter without question. And we’ll all be cool. Got it? I said do you got it!? Alright then. If you had just answered the first time I– you know what, it doesn’t matter. Don’t make us regret usurping the power of this nation. Just be cool. So here it is, our new list of rules of the realm:

Sorry, you only get one.
Sorry, you only get one.

WE HEREBY OFFICIALLY DO DECREE … That each citizen of the new realm will be issued one (1) fully grown jungle cat to do with as you wish. These beasts will not have been raised in captivity since we just thought of this and will then very likely have a taste for flesh and little to no litter box training. Upon delivery it will be up to you, the jungle cat owning citizen to decide how to care for and battle your blood thirsty killing machine. We understand that the initial learning curve in this process will likely be quite steep and that by the end of the first week of implementation of this program, many major metropolitan cities will likely be newly governed solely by lions and pumas and the like. With this in mind we would like to introduce our second decree…

Cat laser technicians hard at work, for you.
Cat laser technicians hard at work, for you.

WE HEREBY OFFICIALLY DO DECREE … As we speak, the lamp posts of the country’s major urban centers are being fitted with high tech, nonlethal cat lasers. These lasers are designed to maintain order in the newly giant feline over run cities of America. You may naturally be wondering why, rather than changing our initial decree of unleashing millions of tons of fur, claws and teeth upon the people of the United States of America, we have decided to follow it up immediately with a measure to control the out of control element we initially instated. And the answer is simply because we can not be shown to have any sort of weakness or indecision, the cats can smell that kind of shit…

WE HEREBY OFFICIALLY DO DECREE … The official soundtrack from Mad Max will be our new National Anthem and played at all sporting events, every morning in schools right before the new pledge of allegiance (which is currently being rewritten), and at 4:00pm every day over loudspeakers in every city. During the Anthem all will stop what they’re doing, face due east and place their hands over their heart until the Anthem has finished.

WE HEREBY OFFICIALLY DO DECREE … That you’re it. No tag backs.

You'd be crazy not to!
You'd be crazy not to!

WE HEREBY OFFICIALLY DO DECREE … A new day will be added to the week, and it will be known, from this point forward … as Vanday. It will be placed between Saturday and Sunday and will be included in the traditional “weekend”. Vanday will be 48 hours long. Within the Vanday there will be no sales tax on anything and everything will be 50% off. EVERYTHING! Including already sale priced items. So add the extra 50% savings to whatever the sale price of the item is and that will be the new sale price. However, when you return that item on a day other than Vanday, you will get the full refund for the price of that item prior to it being on sale.

Understated, subtle, American.
Understated, subtle, American.

WE HEREBY OFFICIALLY DO DECREE … That any man, woman, teenager, adolescent child, newborn baby, dog, cat, mouse or bug of any sort that does deem it necessary to own a truck that is higher than 8 stone (a new height measurement) be, ironically, stoned to death upon being caught with aforementioned gigantic embarrassment of a vehicle. In this new world we choose to be lower to the ground and more sustainable with two-wheel vehicles being the primary mode of transportation, motorized or not, with a slight slant towards the four-legged variety (non motorized of course) unless you happen to have the special disabled card (physical, mental or socially) which then allows you to choose whichever sort of transportation you would like, except you cannot drive that chosen vehicle on the first and third Vanday of the new month unless, of course, it’s raining or there is a lunar eclipse, which then would allow anyone to drive, but only up to 53mph during that half hour period when reruns of Three’s Company is on. So yes, big truck equals death.

Simply follow these very straight forward, easy to understand decree and we’ll all get along just fine in this new Kingdom of the Van. All hail, class dismissed.