Have you ever been publicly praised by your boss and heralded as “one of the classiest people on Earth!”, for choosing not to continue to savagely pummel an unconscious rival until being forcibly removed from their carcass by authorities? UFC fighter Brian Stann has, and that seems like a bad thing to me.
Now, I enjoy fighting to the ultimate as much as the next reptile brained hair covered mammal. If there is an individual with whom I have an otherwise readily resolvable difference, my first, natural and only instinct is ALWAYS to elbow it until the problem is easily wiped off of my arm joint. I also want to make sure that any ultimately fighting men that might happen to read this know that I don’t have any problem with the entirely rational and completely thought through decisions you make to continue raining uncontested blows upon the face of your opponent until you are tackled off of them. That’s your call and I think it is a completely right and handsome call of you to make, so please, ask your friends “Lefty” and “Widow Maker” to unclench and enjoy the rest of this article with the warm understanding that everything you punch had it coming and I completely support your punching it until you see fit to be forced to halt your hard wired programming of “skull liquefaction”.
I’m familiar with the ultimate fight, I’ve watched several in my day. Highlight DVDs are made entirely of muscular gentlemen wailing away at the craniums of the forcibly sleeping. It’s just a little weird, to me at least, to heap so much praise upon someone doing something that should really be the rule, rather than the exception.
In his fight with Alessio Sakara, Mr. Stann completely overwhelmed his opponent in the first round, putting him to painful bed with a series of elbows. It was after this that Brian did something that initially, most spectators couldn’t wholly understand. Without any out side provocation from the official who should have been leaping across the octagon at him, Brian Stann simply stopped demolishing Alessio Sakara’s brain pan.
This unexpected act of humanity by fighting man Brian Stann, one of the apparent universally regarded “good guys” of the sport of hitting other people with every blunt edge of your anatomy, prompted UFC President Dana White to announce to the Twitter machine how classy a gesture not taking liberties with the defenseless husk of Alessio Sakara was.
Now, obviously I’m not suggesting that UFC needs to be toned down, it’s infinitely more controlled than it was in its infancy, I’m just saying that it shouldn’t be such a shocking show of sportsmanship for a guy to wave a lazy, neglectful referee over to show him that he should have done his job already, that the sport itself feels like it should give this guy a trophy for having even a shred of human decency.
“He’s such a good guy, you almost want to hate him.” wrote “MMA Fighting”s Ben Fowlkes, I assume while breaking kittens legs and ensuring that they healed incorrectly. “Except, he’s also the kind of good guy who will stop a fight when he sees his opponent has been knocked out.”
That shouldn’t be a thing. What he just said. There shouldn’t be a place where it should be astonishing if someone stops fighting someone who no longer possesses the ability to fight back. Rule number one in every sport played by anyone every where should be “If your opponent has the motor function of a soggy dish rag and is unresponsive to any form of visual or aural stimuli, please stop punching them until they can be officially declared dead.”
So, good fight Mr. Stann, congratulations on being a rational individual, capable of remorse and able to recognize when your fists have transitioned from sporting equipment to state’s evidence. Now might I suggest you sit down with Dana White for a dish of delicious frozen yogurt and explain to him why being so excited about one of his employees choosing of his own accord to be a human being shouldn’t be so god damned tweet worthy.
Hugh Marston Heffner retaliated to his ex-fiance’s accusations by posting the following Twitter things …
I don’t which one confuses me more … the fact that Hugh Hefner can get his hands on ripeness like that or that he actually uses Twitter. I mean let’s think about it … here’s a list of the things that were around when HH was born in 1926.
Walt Disney Studios forms
Air Mail begins in the US
1st transatlantic telephone call (London-NY)
Mussolini’s wife breaks his nose
30th Boston Marathon – Now at 115th
52nd Kentucky Derby – Now at 137th
Thomas Edison says Americans prefer silent movies over talkies
Houdini stays in a coffin under water for 1½ hrs before escaping
Weather map televised for 1st time
Jerry Lewis, Don Rickles and Soupy Sales born
Henry Ford announces 8 hour, 5-day work week
Babe Ruth hits 3 HRs in a World Series game
NBC (National Broadcasting Corporation) forms
U.S. Route 66 is established
2nd part of Hitler’s Mein Kampf published
So for you, Crystal the bitch, to bag on Hugh’s fornication stopwatch, well all I have to say is F YOU with a capital F !! That dude was around when Babe Ruth was still hitting homeruns, like he was doin’ with you … for 2 seconds at a time !! BAMMM !!
During a session of love-seat-lounging yesterday, something dawned on me as I watched the “news” on my thin-black-box-of-tummy-plumping’ness. I realized that a good ol’ “pie in the face” has never lost its charm, AND, the most important realization, was that getting “pied” is the ultimate form of putdownery that you really can inflict on thine enemies.
Lets take a quick look at the history of the “Pie In The Face”. It all started in 1909 in a silent movie called “Mr. Flip”. It is the first known instance of “pieing” as it is sometimes referred to, and is considered “slap stick” comedy. The pie is pushed into the main character’s face after he tries to take liberties with a woman, an voila, “Pie In The Face” is born. There are two known “pieing” techniques, the old fashion push the pie in the face, and the “throw the pie” in the face, both of which are quite acceptable. There has also been a new breed of pie that has been born as well from professional baseball players, and it’s the “shaving cream pie”, which in my mind is just bastardizing the event, but, if you don’t have time to bake, then I guess it will do since it does somewhat resemble a lemon-meringue pie.
Now lets fast forward 102 years to Rupert Murdoch’s court hearing for his phone-hacking scandal. Just yesterday on this two-thousandst-and-evelenth-year of our lawrd CNN, the “Pie In The Face” got national attention when a guy who says he’s a comedian/activist who goes by the Twitter handle @JonnieMarbles decided to “pie” Mr. Murdoch in the face at said hearing. However, his plan did not go as, ummm, planned. As he stepped toward the intended victim, his “pieing” was intercepted by this old man’s younger, hot, Asian wife and the majority of pie was smeared on the “pie’er” as she slapped him silly. In the slap-stick comedy world, we like to call this “awww shit, you just got reverse pied”. Now earlier I mentioned that a “pieing” is the ultimate form of getting “cut down”, but I have to change my view and say that if you get “reverse-pied-in-the-face”, then THAT would be the worst, and you’re just a punk ass bitch now.
So in honor of the age old “Pie In The Face”, I push one in yours and smear it around on top of your head, and yes, that IS custard you’re tasting. And here’s a couple of famous people getting “Pie’d In The Face” … enjoy !!
It used to be that a huckster would rumble into town in a brightly colored wagon emblazoned with grandiose hyperbole about their stature and abilities. And the townsfolk, how they would flock to this charismatic charlatan, selling them something they thought they wanted, taking their “donations” for the promise of a better life and happier tomorrow. Then they would leave quietly in the night and the next morning the people would wake up, wonder who that wild eyed caricature was, why they were there, and why they got so excited about it.
It’s nice to see that some things never change.
Internet personality and reality television subject Sarah Palin is currently cris-crossing the country, a trail of “reporters”, whom she supposedly openly despises, clinging to her ass, unsure why they’re following her, but knowing if they don’t someone else will and people will watch them instead. No express purpose has been given for this continental wander, other than to see the great history spots of this fine country place. If this were a simple sight seeing trip with the family, exploring the many wonders that this land has to offer, it wouldn’t require a tour bus with the subtlety of the bass player for Ratt fucking a groupie with a can of hairspray on a pile of tour shirts. What we do know is that she’s not running for office, she’s not promoting a movie, she’s not really contributing anything to anything in any way measurable. What she does seem to be doing though, is taking an expensive independent study 6th grade Social Studies class with all of the money that people give her because… I don’t know why.
Sarah Palin isn’t going to run for President. Why would she want to? Being President would mean responsibility and accountability and a significant pay cut. So instead she’s going to explore the possibilities, and search the belly fires, listen to what her imaginary sky monster tells her to do, and hem and haw and maybe and could be and if you’re really Americany I just might, you know, for you. Because as soon as she says she’s running, she can’t spend her donation money on family vacations, so where’s the up side? Being the leader of the free world? Who needs the headache?
The truth is that she doesn’t want to be President. Who the fuck would anymore? Hell, she didn’t want to be Governor of Alaska, where your only real responsibility is not freezing to death or accidentally eating one or more of your children to survive. What Sarah Palin wants is to be famous. She wants to be rich. She wants to have no responsibility, and be able to, almost expected to, reflexively, instinctively criticize and insinuate and insult, all while deflecting, offering no actual solutions or ideas of any kind and attacking anyone who would ever call her on any of her shit. It’s easier to prey on the fears of middle America and talk about what’s perceived to be wrong, than to say how to fix it and make actual things actually happen, actually.
So instead of offering anything of substance she shills bottles of Auntie Sarah’s Americana Super Tonic Elixir! Good for all what ails ya! For all the REAL Americans. The hockey grizzly moms! The helicopter borne shooters of things! The lockers, the reloaders! Because God put that oil in the ground for America so we should go get it!
Tired of radical muslim extremist socialist Presidents pallin’ around with terrorists? Just get yourself a bottle of good ol’ Auntie Sarah’s Americana Super Tonic Elixir! Tired of the lame stream media covering your every move just like you want them to so long as they don’t try to ask you about your opinions or twist your words by playing them back exactly as you said them?
With Auntie Sarah’s Americana Super Tonic Elixir you’ll finally be able to see exactly what’s wrong with America without the hassle of actually offering any ways to solve them, while simultaneously being able to attack anyone who ever questions the inherent greatness and superiority of this most perfect of nations given by lord Jesus McAwesome to the world as a beacon of light and freedom! These, the single 50 greatest United States of the Americas!
So step right up, no pushin’ folks, there’s no risk of missin’ this show! Be amazed, be astounded, be disgusted and revolted by the Arctic Media Monster! The Sad, Inconceivable, Shameless Thing That Won’t Go Away! The Incredible, Astonishing, Spectacular Neverdent of the United States of Real America! Sarah Palin: Professional Grifter!
As regular readers know, we at Van Full of Candy have a love, hate, stab, caress relationship with a certain young pop super star whose name shall be mentioned many dozen times throughout this article. Whether it’s his disappointment in and hatred of rape victims, or his world shaking follicle styling decisions, we have been there every step of the way over the last three plus months of our official existence. Bieber gives us life, his floppy headed stupidity nourishes us, it feeds our machine so that we might feast upon him again.
And so, hearing the news that the Bieb was taking his healing message to the planet’s most picked at open sore, I couldn’t help but be intrigued at the potentially horrible possibilities. And as usual, when it comes to matters of tact and sense, JBiZzle doesn’t disappoint.
Justin apparently touched down in the promised land on Monday as part of his “My World” tour. The arrogance and ignorance makes me stronger! I can’t help but giggle at the gall of this little oblivious twat prancing through Perpetualwarslavia with his smoldering hot Canadianess and his utter lack of personal awareness as he takes a walk about across the face of His World. It truly makes me want to punch him in the face with the fist of a million holocaust ghosts. If only Justin had been around a little sooner, perhaps with the power of his disarming wink he could have shown that mean ol’ Adolph that his pursuits were pointless, this is Bieber’s world, and his alone.
A day doesn’t go by that we’re not reminded that America is a Christian Nation and as such, Jesus grew up in Bethlehem, Colorado, so I’m not sure where this beaver pelt wearing, igloo humping Canadian gets off trying to get all uppity that he’s being pestered by paparazzi while trying to visit our God’s explodey birthplace.
We of course know about every tiny perceived hardships that the Bieb is experiencing because of his personal telepathic link to the internets, Twitter. Through his twitter account he has shared his twelve trials, whining about the paparazzi that “They should be ashamed of themselves. Take pictures of me eating but not in a place of prayer, ridiculous ” and “You would think paparazzi would have some respect in holy places. All I wanted was the chance to walk where Jesus did here in Israel,” And Justin is absolutely right! Finally something I can agree with him completely on. Why can’t the paparazzi show the same level of respect for these holy places that Justin is tweeting that he has… from these holy places. Just because he’s walking in the footsteps of the Christ, doesn’t mean he has to put down his smart phone long enough to actually look around and be respectful of what and where it is that he is bitching about not being respected at. And of course there is no more divine expression of one’s respect and reverence than in the form of a 140 character kvetch. Twitter is the ultimate tool in circumventing damnation from the sin of Hubris, because while you are vainly boasting about your importance and value, you’re only doing it in bite sized portions, so clearly it doesn’t count.
Then you toss on top of all of this there’s the political theatre of snubbing and finger pointing. Justin, rightfully expected an audience with Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu, because he clearly has nothing better to do than to shake hands with a seventeen year old pop star with a delusional sense of self worth. Netanyahu wanted to bring in some kids that earlier in the week had been shot at by rockets and as we all know Justin is allergic to human tragedy and it all became a big kerfuffle and now everyone’s blaming everyone else for a pointless meeting between two people who have no business ever meeting in the first place never happening at all. And we’re all the lesser for it. Somehow.
Now, I know that Justin isn’t doing anything out of malice or with any sort of forethought. He’s a self absorbed child with more money than any of us will ever see if we lived to be three million, and no one telling him no. He’s being no more disrespectful and oblivious than any North American child his age would be. The only difference is that his inane bullshit is being heard by millions of followers. But naturally, we can’t stay mad at you Justin, you’re just too adorable and precocious. So here is a little something we whipped together in your honour (the extra “u” is for extra Canadian), celebrating our undying love of all things Bieber, combined with my unbridled insanity.
So I invite you all to enjoy the first installment of a potentially limitless part series. Van Full of Candy proudly presents: Bieber Shots!