Charlie Sheen

We love My[ _____ ] now, Justin! Love us!

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OMG Ya’ll! O to the MUTHA FUCKIN’ G!!!

Did you hear? Did you hear the news!? Justin Timberlake owns My[_____]! I know! Well when I heard the news, I leapt out of my chair and kissed the nearest homeless person. Then I gave them a dollar to stop screaming at me.

When we at Van Full of Candy set up our web presence, we had largely ignored My[_____]. Almost solely because it lacked an element of Justin Timberlake ownership. But with the wonderful, magical news this morning that Justin Timberlake (as part of a partnership with Specific Media, but mostly just as Justin Timberlake) had purchased My[_____] from News Corp for only $35 million, (a miniscule fraction of the $580 million hat News Corp had paid for “MySpace” just a few short, heady years ago) I knew that we had to get our My[_____] on and get in on the ground floor of what can only be the single greatest thing to happen to the internet since the invention of the W! Here is the timeline of my throwing myself at the feet of Triple Threat McGee and his new Social Media Empire!

9:24 am: Read that Justin Timberlake personally bought My[_____] with his own gorgeous money.

9:25 am: Opened My[_____] account.

9:26 am: Sat, daydreaming about me and JT hangin’ out, being handsome.

9:31 am: Washed hands, began writing this article.

9:35 am: Posted first My[_____] status update.

9:36 am: Started looking for the perfect Hollywood hot spot for our first Champaign brunch with Justin SexyBack.

9:39 am: Took a break from brunch shopping to read my first My[_____] e-mail!

9:40 am: Visited the theme gallery and customized our profile:

9:43 am: Followed our fave Topics in movies, celeb and TV:

9:52 am: Listened to albums, created playlists, and more:

9:56 am: Didn’t connect with their many curators because I didn’t know what that meant and I was scared…

And then, at 10:25 am, after grooving to the JT express as hard and as loud as I could, I made the big step…

10:26 am: My little heart was broken…

10:27 am: … I cried. I cried so hard that I broke my cryer: I fear I may never be able to cry again.

Why Justin, why would you do this to me? I’ve done so much to show you my love, and this is how my affection is returned?

Sure, maybe I’m not Andy Samberg, maybe I can’t invite you onto my show and write you hilarious songs about boning each other’s parents. Maybe all I can do is love you, with all of my candy clogged heart, from afar, in the hopes that some day, SOME DAY, maybe that love will be returned in kind…

In the meantime, join us on the new JustinSpace page. Friend us, because if Justin sees just how cool and popular we are, surely he will be our friends. We couldn’t win Charlie Sheen’s heart, but please, help us make Justin love us!

VFoC Video — "Introducing … The Audition Guy!!"

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When you work hard and put in your time, good things usually happen to you. Here at Van Full of Candy we have a really dedicated young man who really, really wants to make it big time in the entertaiment world in any way shape or form that they’ll take him. You may remember him from certain auditions like the Charlie Sheen Intern audition or maybe his attempt to become the AFLAC Duck voice. Well his super intense persistence to his craft has landed him his very own “show” here in our van. So without further ado … well … here ya go …

Introducing … The Audition Guy !! [VIDEO]

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When you work hard and put in your time, good things usually happen to you. Here at Van Full of Candy we have a really dedicated young man who really, really wants to make it big time in the entertaiment world in any way shape or form that they’ll take him. You may remember him from certain auditions like the Charlie Sheen Intern audition or maybe his attempt to become the AFLAC Duck voice. Well his super intense persistence to his craft has landed him his very own “show” here in our van. So without further ado … well … here ya go …

The “Justify Your Existence” Tours – Britney and Charlie, on the Road.

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The live concert. It’s where you make your connection with the artist, where you, for one brief shining moment, share the same space with your heroes and become a part of one another’s world. Then, afterwards, you drunkenly limp around Lot F all night looking for your car which six hours and nine, $15 beers ago you parked in Lot B, while Ricky Rockstar is back in his bus being blown by the twelve least repulsive of your town’s well worn groupie brigade with a gravity feed coke dispenser gently filling each precious, million dollar nostril. Basically what I’m saying is that tours are fun for everybody.

Some "musician" musicing. Yawn!
Some "musician" musicing. Yawn!

Sure, there are hundreds, you know what, I like you so I’ll give you thousands, of acts on the road right now, as we speak. “Popular”, “successful”, “relevant” performers busting ass night in and night out entertaining people who have come out to be entertained by entertainers who can entertain. But who wants to see that? Because while those suckers are out there relying on their “talent” to “put on a good, worthwhile show, memorable for the quality of the performance and the soul enriching feeling of seeing someone gifted with talents beyond reason sharing them with an appreciative world” there are two others hitting the road soon that are easily the most anticipated upcoming tours of the year. And they’re not letting any of that “having nothing to contribute to anything” keep them from selling tickets and renting expensive equipments and what not.

Britney Spears and Charlie Sheen. They’re coming to your town, they’ll help you party down. They’re an American train wreck.

Now naturally, critics are already trying to convince us, the unwashed masses who prefer their entertainment tragic, that we shouldn’t see these shows. They say that Britney’s show lacks what one might call a “live performance element”. Her moves are half-hearted and dead eyed, her vocals are canned. To that I say, “uh-huh”.

And as for Mr. Sheen, they point out that his record sell out shows are in fact not sold out, or records, or shows. They openly question what his performance will entail, since Charlie hasn’t really made it clear himself what he’ll be doing live in front of thousands of screaming on lookers. I expect he’ll do what he does best. Porn stars.

But it’s clear to me that the people deriding these shows don’t fully understand exactly why we would want to see these two “performers” live in concert in the first damned place. If we wanted to see people singing and dancing with feeling and love for the arts, we would go to some bullshit ballet or opera or what ever other cultural nonsense exhibition is going on at the local community center. If we wanted to see someone tell us something coherent and well thought out, with a “point” or “vague understanding of the string of words desperately escaping their face”, we’d go watch a street corner apocalypse crier. 

The pageantry.
The pageantry.

NASCAR is the most popular spectator sport in the world. And while some people do honestly come out to the tracks week in and week out to witness the majesty of counter-clockwise vroom vrooms, there’s a certain percentage of motor sports fans (that percentage being as near to 100ish as is statistically allowable) who watch these events hoping beyond hope, that they’ll finally get to see their favorite brightly colored star’s vehicle explode while simultaneously, praying they’re not inadvertently murdered by the spectacular showers of debris. But that’s the chance you take when you’re rooting for something horrible to happen during something you supposedly love not specifically for the potential horrible that could occur.

What was I saying?

Oh, yeah, people want to see Charlie Sheen explode in a fiery ball of green flame. Not literally of course, but wouldn’t that be fucking awesome!? You go to work the next day and people are talking about Charlie Sheen’s spectacular immolation, asking you if you saw it and you can just point to the festering wound on your arm and tell them, “See it!? I’ve been infected with a Sheen shard which is slowly dissolving my mind!” then you would fall over and scream in agony as the self replicating nano-Sheen slowly ate away at your being, replacing your very cells with his extra dimensional laser Samurai essence.

You see, people aren’t snapping up tickets to these events to see an unparallelled talent deliver the performance of a lifetime, they’re going in the hopes that something fucking crazy will happen at the one show that they get to be at. And it’s a crap shoot. You’re buying a ticket hoping that you get to be at the show that turns out to be the unscheduled last of the tour, so you want to be to one of the earlier performances. If your town is on the latter half of the itinerary, you might as well not bother. I’m laying 3 1/2 to 2 that neither of these tours ends when scheduled. Lay your money down if you’re tired of it cluttering up your pocket.

And keep your judgements of the over all worth of these shows to yourself, those of us hoping to be splattered with Brit juice don’t give a damn.

The "Justify Your Existence" Tours – Britney and Charlie, on the Road.

Posted on

The live concert. It’s where you make your connection with the artist, where you, for one brief shining moment, share the same space with your heroes and become a part of one another’s world. Then, afterwards, you drunkenly limp around Lot F all night looking for your car which six hours and nine, $15 beers ago you parked in Lot B, while Ricky Rockstar is back in his bus being blown by the twelve least repulsive of your town’s well worn groupie brigade with a gravity feed coke dispenser gently filling each precious, million dollar nostril. Basically what I’m saying is that tours are fun for everybody.

Some "musician" musicing. Yawn!
Some “musician” musicing. Yawn!

Sure, there are hundreds, you know what, I like you so I’ll give you thousands, of acts on the road right now, as we speak. “Popular”, “successful”, “relevant” performers busting ass night in and night out entertaining people who have come out to be entertained by entertainers who can entertain. But who wants to see that? Because while those suckers are out there relying on their “talent” to “put on a good, worthwhile show, memorable for the quality of the performance and the soul enriching feeling of seeing someone gifted with talents beyond reason sharing them with an appreciative world” there are two others hitting the road soon that are easily the most anticipated upcoming tours of the year. And they’re not letting any of that “having nothing to contribute to anything” keep them from selling tickets and renting expensive equipments and what not.

Britney Spears and Charlie Sheen. They’re coming to your town, they’ll help you party down. They’re an American train wreck.

Now naturally, critics are already trying to convince us, the unwashed masses who prefer their entertainment tragic, that we shouldn’t see these shows. They say that Britney’s show lacks what one might call a “live performance element”. Her moves are half-hearted and dead eyed, her vocals are canned. To that I say, “uh-huh”.

And as for Mr. Sheen, they point out that his record sell out shows are in fact not sold out, or records, or shows. They openly question what his performance will entail, since Charlie hasn’t really made it clear himself what he’ll be doing live in front of thousands of screaming on lookers. I expect he’ll do what he does best. Porn stars.

But it’s clear to me that the people deriding these shows don’t fully understand exactly why we would want to see these two “performers” live in concert in the first damned place. If we wanted to see people singing and dancing with feeling and love for the arts, we would go to some bullshit ballet or opera or what ever other cultural nonsense exhibition is going on at the local community center. If we wanted to see someone tell us something coherent and well thought out, with a “point” or “vague understanding of the string of words desperately escaping their face”, we’d go watch a street corner apocalypse crier.

The pageantry.
The pageantry.

NASCAR is the most popular spectator sport in the world. And while some people do honestly come out to the tracks week in and week out to witness the majesty of counter-clockwise vroom vrooms, there’s a certain percentage of motor sports fans (that percentage being as near to 100ish as is statistically allowable) who watch these events hoping beyond hope, that they’ll finally get to see their favorite brightly colored star’s vehicle explode while simultaneously, praying they’re not inadvertently murdered by the spectacular showers of debris. But that’s the chance you take when you’re rooting for something horrible to happen during something you supposedly love not specifically for the potential horrible that could occur.

What was I saying?

Oh, yeah, people want to see Charlie Sheen explode in a fiery ball of green flame. Not literally of course, but wouldn’t that be fucking awesome!? You go to work the next day and people are talking about Charlie Sheen’s spectacular immolation, asking you if you saw it and you can just point to the festering wound on your arm and tell them, “See it!? I’ve been infected with a Sheen shard which is slowly dissolving my mind!” then you would fall over and scream in agony as the self replicating nano-Sheen slowly ate away at your being, replacing your very cells with his extra dimensional laser Samurai essence.

You see, people aren’t snapping up tickets to these events to see an unparallelled talent deliver the performance of a lifetime, they’re going in the hopes that something fucking crazy will happen at the one show that they get to be at. And it’s a crap shoot. You’re buying a ticket hoping that you get to be at the show that turns out to be the unscheduled last of the tour, so you want to be to one of the earlier performances. If your town is on the latter half of the itinerary, you might as well not bother. I’m laying 3 1/2 to 2 that neither of these tours ends when scheduled. Lay your money down if you’re tired of it cluttering up your pocket.

And keep your judgements of the over all worth of these shows to yourself, those of us hoping to be splattered with Brit juice don’t give a damn.

Happy Birthday Twitter, You Bedwetter

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We didn’t get you a present

Hey everyone, want to hear something that nobody cares about? Twitter just turned 5 years old. Big F’ing deal, so did my dog and he still scrapes his ass on the floor. Five! You can’t even really color within the lines yet Twitter, or eat without spillin’ shit all over your shirt, or even wipe your ass by yourself yet. Whoopeee!! Twitter is 5!! Let’s all have a big social media party with a creepy ass clown so Twitter will run to mommy and cry.

Five! You go around acting all badass making other people feel important when they have a shitload of followers, big whippity doo! YOU’RE ONLY 5! You don’t even know what all that means yet. This is kind of like your really poorly done refrigerator art, and your parents are telling you how amazing it is patting you on your sweaty little Twitter head and magnet’ing it where everybody HAS to look at it! Five! You still wear Pull-Ups to bed and have a nightlight, but we’re all supposed to bow down to your uberness, your power, your Charlie Sheen record setting whatever that media handjob thing was; and what is it you really do? ANSWER THAT TWITTER! WHAT DO YOU DO? You sit there and you make people “popular” and feel special. Well you know what? The people who were already popular, are just more popular and those of us who were never popular, still aren’t. Thanks for that! And how the hell am I supposed to use you? And how did you like my overuse of the word “popular”? Oh you wouldn’t understand that because you’re FIVE!

Hey, let me “tweet” something. Yay! Well that was fun! Where in the hell did THAT go? Who got it? WTF?? And this hashtag bullshit? It’s like tic-tac-toe before a word and all of a sudden it’s that much more important? And if freakin’ Sheen puts one in front of anything it becomes the God damn word of … well … God. And now I’ve mentioned his name twice in this damn article even though he deliberately cut me from his internship. I’m not bitter, I already talked to him about it here. Five! You can’t even sit in the front seat yet, but you’re telling us who we need to follow and how amazing they are and even set up a NEW website that pimps out the chosen people even more, well fuck, why don’t you make a shitty website and pimp us nobody’s out? Huh? No! I guess we’ll just have to work our asses off and do all of that shit ourselves. GREAT! When do WE get to be cool? Never! That’s when! You just sit back there in your car-seat with your sippy-cup and act like a Prima Donna. FIVE! You still take naps, and suck your thumb and let all these people praise you, well not us! No sir! We will never promote you AT ALL! EVER! We won’t hyperlink anything back to you to show how much everybody needs you. FIVE! And you know what? Just for being the little runny nose prick that you are, I’m not gonna pick you up from daycare today!

FIVE THAT TWITTER!!

Please don't follow us @VanFullOfCandy, we hate Twitter

Charlie Sheen – No Longer #Winning

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You haven't heard the last of us Sheen!

Well, today will be a very sad day for the Charlie Sheen TigerBlood compound. What they didn’t realize is that they have just lost the best candidate for their internship. Didn’t you read our post from a while back? Do you not understand that our partnership would have propelled us to unheard of heights of social media godliness? DAMNIT CHARLIE!

But it’s ok Chuck, I think I understand where you’re coming from. It would have been too easy. In fact, it may have even been slightly dangerous when we colaborated; it most certainly would have caused a total meltdown of the gravitational vortex in the universe. I’m coming to terms with that, and the fact that you need a “normal” person to intern for you so things stay somewhat “safe”. We get it, it’s ok.

It was cute, however, how you “let us” get through Round 2, to give the other applicants a bit of a scare, and then drop us so that they could take a huge collective sigh knowing that the #1 contender has been eliminated. So, thank you, and … hope #2 works out for ya. *wink*

Dear readers: If you applied for this internship, please let us know, and if you advanced further than us, let us know that too. We’ll let you rub it in, but just know, we weren’t chosen for your, no, make that, the universe’s protection, so don’t get too cocky!