Love

Sink Your Love Sub In That Someone Special In The Sinking Love Sub of “Lovers Deep”

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It’s been said that “Darlin’ it’s better, down where it’s wetter” and “that’s why it’s hotter, under the water.” It may be possible that the singing crab to which those words of wisdom are generally attributed to wasn’t exactly referring to a submersible fuck sub, but there’s no proof that he wasn’t either.

Originally posted on Your Daily Media

So, you’ve punished that pie way up in the sky. Well why not conquer that “C” down under the sea! Because the “Mile-High” club is SO Wright Brothers, a new travel company is offering you the chance to join the “Mile-Low” club.

Your love sub awaits you to embark on your very own “Hunt for Red October”

Money, and the having of it must be nice. To be able to just decide one day “I have a minimum of $284,000 that I VERY don’t need, and an aching desire to stick my parts into another someone’s near a sunken battleship” and then make that a reality must be a hell of a life to have.

Those fish are TOTALLY gonna watch you fuck.

In a press conference announcing this luxury aquatic bang bus, Oliver Bell, co-founder of Oliver’s Travels told the common note scratching clods: “All of our handpicked, luxury properties have something unique and quirky about them, but Lovers Deep really stands out as one of our quirkiest yet.” And by quirky I assume Mr. Oliver’s doesn’t so much mean “wearing your own handmade clothes and noodling around on a ukulele” as “fucking in a submarine”.

Share a relaxing drink in the lounge with your fellow travelers, all knowing you spent almost 300 grand each to hump underwater.

And for those quirk seeking, high lifers, the UK based Oliver’s Travel has just the package to give to you and your temporary life mate’s packages. Aboard these “Lovers Deep” love subs the rich and pampered will have all of their wildest unnecessary dreams catered to, including oyster dishes, caviar, “chocolate fondant with essence of pomegranate”, all the way down to a “petal-scattering service” for those who are unable, or unwilling to lay hands upon the unplucked petals of flowers or the below their station act of “scattering” anything but the finest Colombian nostril dust across the lower back of their underwater frolic bunny. All to be followed, of course, by a champagne breakfast in bed. Natch.

via: Your Daily Media

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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.

Which Angry, Hurtful, Bitter Lover Type Are You?

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We’ve been seeing each other for a while now, 10 1/2 months is an eternity for most relationships. We like to think we’ve been a very attentive partner, but we know there’s been times when we’ve taken you for granted. It’s nothing conscious, it’s not because you’ve gained weight, we think that’s sexy, it means you’re comfortable with us. What we’re saying is, we’re taking this relationship seriously and are trying to take a look at ourselves, and see if this is going to work out.

I found a survey this morning on CNN.com from health.com. Now, if this were some bullshit from health.org or health.net or bonerstrengthsuperplus.edu I wouldn’t be taking it anywhere this seriously. But these guys clearly had to be around since the dawn of the internet to get that kind of prime URL real estate, so they can obviously be trusted to be experts on all subjects related to the health of any living thing. It’s pretty all encompassing, and when you think about the magnitude of their promise to the internet, you almost have to kind of feel sorry for them. But I’m digressing, and while I know you think that’s one of our more indearing qualities, I need to focus, this is for us. So shushy now, baby. Shushy shush.

Their article explains:

Experts say there are six different ways you can be in love, and your love style may change over the course of your relationship.

The purest, most beautiful example of true love ever recorded on film.
The purest, most beautiful example of true love ever recorded on film.

Oh, to be a love expert. It seems that all of life’s little problems would certainly be solved were one to be an expert in love. I wonder what type of schooling a love expert must complete to earn the title of “Dr. Love”. I’ll tell you what type, the school of life, brother. Because that’s where love happens. Love doesn’t happen in a book, or a web site, or an alley behind the coffee shop where you and your new friend just sat through your court appointed AA meeting. Love happens in your face, and occasionally on your face, and you’ve got to be ready to see it, know it and tell it “Hey, I know you, you’re love, I’m all up in everything you are.” And love will see you and blush and smile, and Jack, you’re all up in love’s under panties from there until the universe fucking explodes as long as you don’t stick your love in any of love’s friends.

I like to think of myself as a semi-professional expert on all things love and romance. In the school of love I major in romance with a double minor in “Uhh” and “You like that?” And being a pursuer of this elusive thing called love, I am always learning, always striving to answer the questions that love presents me. So when no less than health.com asks me, “Which is your love style?” well you better believe that I’m going to answer the hell out of that mostly rhetorical question. And hard.

The romantic

You love being in love. You may be swept away by your new lover’s looks or other appealing physical attributes — and disappointed when they change over time.

I do, indeed, LOVE being in love. If someone were to ask me the thing that I loved most in life, without blinking I would say “love”. If they were to ask what I loved second, I would blink and tell them “loving love”. And while physical attributes are certainly one of the things that I love loving, it’s not the only thing to be loved. Certainly breasts, the “Hey there” and “Look at me” of the female anatomy catch the eye like two suckable mounds of flesh aching to be ogled, and the shapely bottom, so curvy and spankable scream at the top of their butt lungs, “I am personality, I am things that we have in common!” but… what were we saying again? Ah yes, butt lungs.

The list-maker

“You have criteria that are important, and you won’t change them,” Schwartz says. Even if you’re in a committed relationship, you may put too much pressure on your partner to live up to your standards.

The “Schwartz” referenced above is apparently “Dr. Pepper Schwartz, Ph.D., a sociology professor at the University of Washington in Seattle”. I can only assume that she would be one of the experts in question, since she is being presented as such. But it seems to me that this is more a complaint about past experiences rather than an honest classification of lover. I am deeply sorry that “Pepper” has been hurt in the past for not trying to reach even the most simple and basic requirements of love, but I hardly think that here, now, in this arena of love expertism, is the proper place to air her grievances against an ex who has supposedly wronged her. She does not so much seem to classify this as a “type of love person” as calling this “type” of lover “a fucking prick who I could never fucking satisfy no matter how hard I never tried!”

 The obsessive

You want to spend all your time with your partner. And you constantly worry about your relationship, even when you’ve been together for years. Schwartz says this kind of partner can be overbearing or have highs and lows that drive her significant other crazy.

Oookay. I am starting to see a pattern here. This is clearly not a list of the types of lover you may or not be, but the types of people who have hurt Dr. Pepper Schwartz, Ph.D., sociology professor at the University of Washington in Seattle. I came into this article expecting to explore the many varied ways in which we as human animals legitimately love one another, emotionally, spiritually, in the butt, and instead have simply found the tear soaked rantings of a “love expert” repeatedly hurt by the very thing she professers her unquestioned knowledge of. Your expertise is in question Pep, by no greater authority than I, Loveiticus 9, defender of love in all of its dirty, sticky forms.

The giver

You may give more than you get. “At some point, you find that it’s all going one way,” Schwartz says. You’re constantly working selflessly to meet your partner’s needs, but you’re not looking after you.

How much more can Pepper do for you? You ungrateful slovenly fuck! She has no life outside of professing sociology inside the claustrophobic walls of the University of Washington in Seattle, and coming home to find you in your under pants playing Call of Duty and talking dirty to some fourteen year old boy over the headset! No she won’t play too, she doesn’t like video games, she likes sociology and love and being an expert. Did you even look for a job today? How many pizza boxes are you going to stack before Dr. Pepper Schwartz, Ph.D., sociology professor at the University of Washington in Seattle is killed by their inevitable toppling?

The player

You love courtship. “For these lovers, the chase is a lot of it,” Schwartz says. You’re easily bored in long-term relationships, though, and your eye may roam.

You son of a bitch! Fine, you know what? Fine. Just fine! Go ahead then, run off with her, she’s nineteen, her tits are firm and perky, she doesn’t smell like sociology books and vending machine sandwiches. After everything Pepper has done for you, she just wasn’t enough? She let you put your finger in her butt just to make you stop begging and this is how you treat her!? Well we hope this “barista” skank has syphilitic herpes crabs and your balls fall off!

The pal

Love seems to creep up on you. One day you think, “Wow, I’ve really been spending a lot of time with Jack,” then realize you’re in love. In the long term, your relationship may be quiet, but it’s strong.

Oh Jack, it’s always been you hasn’t it? I can’t believe Pepper never noticed it until now. The way you open the door for her or nod hello when she passes you in the halls of the University of Washington in Seattle. But you’re from two different worlds. You’re a maintenance man, rough hands bending materials to your will, solving complicated mechanical problems with your hard earned knowledge and lateral thinking. And she’s a Ph. D. in sociological professoring. It could never work, could it? Oh, I guess she’s just a dreamer. THE DREAMER! Type 7! Oh Pepper, you’ve got a WHOLE ‘nother paper on your hands!

Ain’t love horrible and inequitable?

We'll all die alone, a lifetime of regrets the last thought in our mind... SMOOCHES!
We'll all die alone, a lifetime of regrets the last thought in our mind... SMOOCHES!

 

VFoC's Valentine's Day Fun Facts!

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Love is a good right cross.

Valentine’s Day is celebrated around the world, though with sometimes subtle differences from region to region. In Germany, lovers exchange small, red velvet boxes filled with a their own feces, in Australia couples take turns drunkenly punching each other in the throat until a perfectly heart-shaped bruise appears and in Africa, where female circumcision is often practiced, the holiday is oddly not celebrated so much.

No Goldenseal?

St. Valentine was chosen to represent the holiday of love only be default since St. Guilttrippingo failed his mandatory piss test for HGH. St. Guilttrippingo was very vehement that he was innocent, but the Roman Empire Athletic Commission had very stringent rules and decided to give the title to St. Valentine who happened to be standing in line waiting to give a sample for his application for the Post Office.

Jesus vs. Jesus...
Jesus vs. Jesus…

Over the years in the search for its own Santa or Easter Bunny or drunken stereotype many mascots had been tried for Valentine’s Day including “Heartsy, the Human Heart”, unfortunately living outside the body and without a constant flow of blood Heartsy’s life span didn’t make for a sustainable mascot. Other contenders over the years included “Sqwirsh, the Chocolate Stuffed Teddy Bear”, “Blingy, the Sapphire Monster” and “Gimmie-Gimmie, the gift eating Vagina”. Ultimately though, the Valentine’s organizers settled on a naked flying baby archer.

Should have worn my bright orange diaper

In 1992, the Department of Justice – Bureau of Firearms stated in a press release that the arrow toting hunter known as Cupid applied for an assault weapon license. They went on to state that the application stated that “my bow and arrow are too antiquated and I need to shoot my love from longer distances”. The Bureau decided to deny the “God of Desire” a license for such a weapon, but however did state that they would allow him to carry a crossbow instead. Two years later, Cupid was involved in a freak hunting accident where he was mistaken for a wild boar and killed by a hunter with, ironically, an arrow. His replacement is named Jeff and lives in Wisconsin.

See you in August.
See you in August.

Many people often mistakenly believe February 14th to have a measurably higher rate of suicides than any other day of the year. The commonly held belief is that this holiday, meant specifically to be shared with someone you love, following so closely to Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s Eve, all major holidays celebrating family, togetherness and camaraderie more often lead to the lonely and disenfranchised to finally succumb to the growing darkness in their soul, finally turning to the sweet embrace of death to release them from the pain of the waking world.

When in actuality the day with the single highest rate of suicides by a margin of 36 to 1 is, not surprisingly, August 3rd, Suicide Day, which commemorates the life and death of “St. Noosius Ligature, the Patron Saint of Oh What’s the Point”

The last little known fact that VFoC was able to uncover in our labs of tedious and exhausting research about the day when we are all forced to show our significant other that we absolutely love them, is one that might really throw the whole holiday for a loop, and one that we really struggled with even letting out of the bag, but thought that if we didn’t we would be doing all of our readers a complete injustice. What we found was nothing

Make it and they shall eat

you could find in any history book or even urbandictionary.com. It was found in a wheat field in southeast England in the early 18th century as a different variety of a crop circle. It was an actual See’s Candy Nuts & Chews crop “formation”. It was in the shape of a heart and distinct detail of the chocolates were very pronounced. In the middle of the “Nuts & Chews” crop formation was a scroll, and on the scroll read “A Diamond is Forever, but chocolate will fatten all of you humans up nicely for our return in 2012 for our 2nd-coming-feeding”. It also had the answer to See’s Candy most expensive chocolate truffle that they make, but that has been lost and the actual secret is still intact. So not to scare any of you with apocalyptic findings, just go ahead and ignore this last finding, venture out and buy some pretty roses, a sappy card, and a big fat box of chocolates and enjoy the holiday.

Happy 2nd-coming … errr, Valentine’s Day to EVERYONE!!

VFoC’s Valentine’s Day Fun Facts!

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As I’m sure your Girlfriend has reminded you by now, Monday is Valentine’s Day, the annual celebration of all things heart-shaped and diamond encrusted. And like most ancient American greeting card manufactured celebrations, many of the origins of the holiday have been lost to the annals of history. Thankfully, we at Van Full of Candy are experts at pretending we know things and have unearthed in our vault a series of long buried, little known facts about this most manipulative of holidays. So snuggle up with the person you’re still with because it would be just too damned much trouble to move on like you both know you should have a long time ago… ENJOY!
Love is a good right cross.
Love is a good right cross.

Valentine’s Day is celebrated around the world, though with sometimes subtle differences from region to region. In Germany, lovers exchange small, red velvet boxes filled with a their own feces, in Australia couples take turns drunkenly punching each other in the throat until a perfectly heart-shaped bruise appears and in Africa, where female circumcision is often practiced, the holiday is oddly not celebrated so much.

No Goldenseal?

St. Valentine was chosen to represent the holiday of love only be default since St. Guilttrippingo failed his mandatory piss test for HGH. St. Guilttrippingo was very vehement that he was innocent, but the Roman Empire Athletic Commission had very stringent rules and decided to give the title to St. Valentine who happened to be standing in line waiting to give a sample for his application for the Post Office.

Jesus vs. Jesus...
Jesus vs. Jesus...

Over the years in the search for its own Santa or Easter Bunny or drunken stereotype many mascots had been tried for Valentine’s Day including “Heartsy, the Human Heart”, unfortunately living outside the body and without a constant flow of blood Heartsy’s life span didn’t make for a sustainable mascot. Other contenders over the years included “Sqwirsh, the Chocolate Stuffed Teddy Bear”, “Blingy, the Sapphire Monster” and “Gimmie-Gimmie, the gift eating Vagina”. Ultimately though, the Valentine’s organizers settled on a naked flying baby archer.

Should have worn my bright orange diaper

In 1992, the Department of Justice – Bureau of Firearms stated in a press release that the arrow toting hunter known as Cupid applied for an assault weapon license. They went on to state that the application stated that “my bow and arrow are too antiquated and I need to shoot my love from longer distances”. The Bureau decided to deny the “God of Desire” a license for such a weapon, but however did state that they would allow him to carry a crossbow instead. Two years later, Cupid was involved in a freak hunting accident where he was mistaken for a wild boar and killed by a hunter with, ironically, an arrow. His replacement is named Jeff and lives in Wisconsin.

See you in August.
See you in August.

Many people often mistakenly believe February 14th to have a measurably higher rate of suicides than any other day of the year. The commonly held belief is that this holiday, meant specifically to be shared with someone you love, following so closely to Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s Eve, all major holidays celebrating family, togetherness and camaraderie more often lead to the lonely and disenfranchised to finally succumb to the growing darkness in their soul, finally turning to the sweet embrace of death to release them from the pain of the waking world.

When in actuality the day with the single highest rate of suicides by a margin of 36 to 1 is, not surprisingly, August 3rd, Suicide Day, which commemorates the life and death of “St. Noosius Ligature, the Patron Saint of Oh What’s the Point”

The last little known fact that VFoC was able to uncover in our labs of tedious and exhausting research about the day when we are all forced to show our significant other that we absolutely love them, is one that might really throw the whole holiday for a loop, and one that we really struggled with even letting out of the bag, but thought that if we didn’t we would be doing all of our readers a complete injustice. What we found was nothing

Make it and they shall eat

you could find in any history book or even urbandictionary.com. It was found in a wheat field in southeast England in the early 18th century as a different variety of a crop circle. It was an actual See’s Candy Nuts & Chews crop “formation”. It was in the shape of a heart and distinct detail of the chocolates were very pronounced. In the middle of the “Nuts & Chews” crop formation was a scroll, and on the scroll read “A Diamond is Forever, but chocolate will fatten all of you humans up nicely for our return in 2012 for our 2nd-coming-feeding”. It also had the answer to See’s Candy most expensive chocolate truffle that they make, but that has been lost and the actual secret is still intact. So not to scare any of you with apocalyptic findings, just go ahead and ignore this last finding, venture out and buy some pretty roses, a sappy card, and a big fat box of chocolates and enjoy the holiday.

Happy 2nd-coming … errr, Valentine’s Day to EVERYONE!!