vagina

People Somehow Surprised That Vagina Mural Painter, Commissioned To Paint Mural, Paints Vagina Mural

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Check out this Swedish high school vagina! Wait, no, wait. Not like that. I mean, vagina art. Really vaguely vaginally. A Swedish artist, known for vagina themed art is now having her knowingly vagina themed art, scrutinized by the people who commissioned it. Art, Sweden and vaginas are all confusing.

Originally posted on Your Daily Media

Sweden isn’t like us. Their furniture is named after the sounds of Vikings vomiting, and whereas our junior highs are often littered in crudely sprayed dong graffiti, Swedish middle schools are covered in happy grinning vulva.

The alleged vagina. Yum?

Apparently renowned vadge illustrator, Carolina Falkholt’s latest work, which I have helpfully titled “You Know it’s a Vagina, Come On,” has sparked some controversy in the normally laid back Norse homeland.

Falkholt’s latest piece of allegedly titillating crotch art was targeted for whitewashing by the “municipal head of children, youth and cultural affairs” in Nyköping, because of the potentially inappropriate setting: a busy stairwell in a middle school. Though, given Myorfts (Swedish for “Mrs.”) Falkholt’s penchant for doodling clams, it was a fact probably/hopefully considered when the piece was commissioned by the school last Fall.

Fans of Glutok (“Lady”) Falkholt, and vaginas in general, rushed to her defense on her Facebook page questioning those who might find the mural offensive–a sentiment that I can’t help but agree with. Having never run into a similar vagina in the wild, I’m more upset imagining that someone is just lying to me, telling me that this is actually a vagina and that I might have mistakenly beaten off to a faux gash halfway through this article.

As of this reporting, the mural remains proudly displayed on the walls of the Nyköping school, just waiting to be slathered in a thick, sticky white substance which will forever sully its beauty and purity.

via: Your Daily Media

GIANT Size Uncanny X-Apendages? Science Says: Shape Matters

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Evolution, it’s happening right now, right under our stupid little noses, which will naturally one day evolve the ability to smell color so that the blind can understand rainbows.

But yesterday, Science thought it would share what it had found out about evolution happening a little farther under our noses. Around the area that I’ve often refered to as the “nose of the pelvis”. Ask anyone, that’s what I call it.

Genitals and Science: two of our favorite topics here at Van Full of Candy converging in one handy study. If only alcohol had somehow been involved in these findings it would have been a perfect storm of topicry. But really, when ever there’s a story of the study of the evolution of beetle genitalia, it’s pretty likely that alcohol was in there at some point, and more likely at the genesis of the idea. And not surprisingly when it’s nerds examining groin importance, the first finding is that size doesn’t matter. Predictable nerds. Shape, these minisculely hung lab hermits at Indiana University say, is what matters more in genitalogical evolution.

The genitals of tomorrow, TODAY!
The genitals of tomorrow, TODAY!

Now, many of us have seen more than our own particular configuration. Whether it be at he gym, in the pelvic inspection office you work in or at your weekly orgy pot luck get togethers, we’re seen several other varieties of our own style of bits. In those instances when you have seen someone else’s unmentionables, either by unfortunate chance, or by very careful observation finally bearing fruit… crotch fruit… You have likely seen something that both horrified and intrigued you and then horrified you again.

A penis bent at an impossible angle, boggling your mind at what positions this unfortunate might have to maintain in order to accomplish what could charitably be called “humpin'”. Or perhaps labia so out of control you can’t be certain it’s not growing toward you every time you take your eye off of it, leaving you in a horrible position of not wanting to look away, while at the same time wanting nothing more in the world than to look away and burn your top layers of eye off.

Those, are apparently evolved genitalia.

Now, no where in this study or article does it SAY that. The research and findings are based entirely on “data from scarab beetle populations”, but I like to think that I’m merely extrapolating the next obvious conclusion based on my general lack of knowledge and daring leaps in logic that is truly the basis for all advancements in the understanding of our world around us. Only I seem to have the bravery to call these knotted, floppy bits of confusing flesh what they seem to be, a great leap forward in future boning.

According to these findings in beetles, which, as we all know, share over 99% of the genetic markers of humans*, genital divergence between species is noticable in at little as 50 years of “genital evolution”. Which naturally got me to thinking, which generally speaking is never any good for anyone.

All New, All Different Genitals!
All New, All Different Genitals!

The X-Man; follow me on this one. Mutants in the X-Men line of comicy books as produced by the Marvel company, are often refered to as the “next step in human evolution”. These X mans first appeared in the Marvel brand comiced book “The X-Men #1” in 1963, NEARLY 50 years ago. So in addition to the strange and unusual powers that these mutant threats possess, you can add strange and unusual junks in the worn on the outside of their pants, trunks! Just extrapolating from the powers that we know these mutants possess I can probably fairly accurately imagine the horrible mutant penis powers they have concealed from the public. Wolverine and his three metal dongs, springing from his hips on command being just the tip of the penisberg!

It all used to be so easy. We all knew that when the pants came off, everything would work itself out just fine. But now, science tells us that even that is no guarantee anymore. Way to go science, just because you weren’t getting any was no reason for you to go and make me wary of potential interconnectivity issues I may have with the lady friend I bring home after a night of plying her with “get ta know ya” juice at my local alcohol room. How I miss the good old days when my only worry was whether or not she was going to pass out before she threw up on me, or throw up on me before she passes out… Simpler times…

* Likely not true, but don’t quote me one way or the other. But if you do want to quote me, feel free to use this one: “You won’t be enslaving the beautiful Nymphomians TODAY, Evil General Gross! Prepare to be pummeled about the face and neck by the Amazing POWER ROD!”

Get Your Digital Diddle On: It’s Only Natural

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Birds do it, bees do it, even perverts in the trees do it. Let’s do it, let’s fuck online.

Chances are, if you’re on the internet (which as of this printing is still the only way that I know you could be reading this, though if you know of any others, please let us know), then you’re probably reading this with one hand in your pants, leisurely pleasuring yourself. That’s just a science fact. Because as you know, every new invention since the dawn of man has come about due to a need to advance the field of physical gratification.

A great advancement in porn science.
A great advancement in porn science.

Fire? Invented so cave perverts could violently flog their pre-historic, barbed procreation utensils to crude vagina wall paintings at night.

The wheel? Walking from one clubbed female’s dwelling to the next had worn out its novelty. The pre-men of yesterage also needed some way to easily signal potential mates of their remaining virility at the ripe old middle age of 14.

Sliced bread? The Manwich.

So it should come as a surprise to exactly no one that the internets too were created solely for the transmittal and reception of pornographic images, thoughts and ideas. As with bread, people have simply adapted sex technologies to be used in other walks of life. Now, a study done by a New Brunswick researcher is attempting to shed some light on the internet’s original purpose for existence: cybersex.

Krystelle Shaughnessy, (clearly a made up name, even by Canadian standards of ridiculous namery) a psychology student at the University of New Brunswick decided to research the role of cybersex in the current internet landscape while, not surprisingly, cybering her sex. Engaged in a long-distance relationship, and being a modern woman of the 21st century Krystelle did what anyone would in her position, try to justify her deviant nature with a college research paper.

Her hypothesis was that, “where her grandmother would have put pen to paper to maintain such an affair, and her mother would have picked up the phone, her natural medium was online.”

"Dearest Eustace, my loins quiver for your absent dong."
"Dearest Eustace, my loins quiver for your absent dong."

And she’s right. As I’ve explained, pen, paper and the telephone were all invented for sexual purposes. Just try not to imagine after this painstakingly detailed recounting, your beloved Nana’s penmanship gradually deteriorate as she furiously scribbled her dirtiest thoughts into a steamy letter of passion and naughtyness, then handing it to the postman with a blush, knowing just what it was that he was holding in his hands to be delivered to Peepaw so that he might feverishly pleasure himself to the naughty words of his beloved, before wondering what this harlot who could spew such filth might be doing with the rest of her time not filled with scribbling her most deviant thoughts. Basically, what I’m saying is that your grandparents were distrustful sickos who traded sex drenched letters while they were apart, and carry with them, even today, secrets that they will be buried with…

Now where was I?

Oh, that’s right, the office chair hand dance.

“A key piece in the research that I’m conducting right now is, who do you have cybersex with? One thing that is across the board — whether I’m talking to researchers, students, anybody — is this notion that cybersex is two strangers hiding from their offline partners engaging in sex online, and I don’t think that’s reality,” she said.

Here, the fine researcher and I differ in opinion. But I suppose our only difference is what percentage of which is what…

Let me clarify.

Cybersex, as it has existed since the invention of the internet, has been largely two men pretending to be lesbians having sexy chat times, sans pants. That has remained the one constant in the ever evolving intertubes. The definition of “stranger” then becomes a sticking point. Obviously there is some getting to know this person pretending to be someone else. So when do we go from fake lesbian intercourse with a stranger to fake lesbian intercourse with an acquaintance or even fake lesbian intercourse with a friend? Fewer instances of cybersex are initiated between people who have known each other before chatting online than vicey versey is what I’m saying. More people have come together with the intention to come together than because distance necessitates it.

“I think my key thing going into this was to try to normalize a behaviour I think is fairly normal,” she said.

And while noble, and understandable, there is no normal on the internet. In a place where the words “two girls” and “one cup” now mean something that we could never have previously imagined, the wild west of human sexual deviances doesn’t want to be normalized and doesn’t need to be justified. We are a creature who evolved thumbs solely so that we could encircle our tingly bits with them. It’s our teachings over the years that that impulse is bad that makes it necessary to write a paper proving what you’re instinctively drawn to do is okay.

So what I’m saying is: human beings, get over yourselves.

Birds do it, bees do it, all the sickos and the sleaze do it. Let’s do it, let’s turn on our webcams and take off our pants!

Get Your Digital Diddle On: It's Only Natural

Posted on

Birds do it, bees do it, even perverts in the trees do it. Let’s do it, let’s fuck online.

Chances are, if you’re on the internet (which as of this printing is still the only way that I know you could be reading this, though if you know of any others, please let us know), then you’re probably reading this with one hand in your pants, leisurely pleasuring yourself. That’s just a science fact. Because as you know, every new invention since the dawn of man has come about due to a need to advance the field of physical gratification.

A great advancement in porn science.
A great advancement in porn science.

Fire? Invented so cave perverts could violently flog their pre-historic, barbed procreation utensils to crude vagina wall paintings at night.

The wheel? Walking from one clubbed female’s dwelling to the next had worn out its novelty. The pre-men of yesterage also needed some way to easily signal potential mates of their remaining virility at the ripe old middle age of 14.

Sliced bread? The Manwich.

So it should come as a surprise to exactly no one that the internets too were created solely for the transmittal and reception of pornographic images, thoughts and ideas. As with bread, people have simply adapted sex technologies to be used in other walks of life. Now, a study done by a New Brunswick researcher is attempting to shed some light on the internet’s original purpose for existence: cybersex.

Krystelle Shaughnessy, (clearly a made up name, even by Canadian standards of ridiculous namery) a psychology student at the University of New Brunswick decided to research the role of cybersex in the current internet landscape while, not surprisingly, cybering her sex. Engaged in a long-distance relationship, and being a modern woman of the 21st century Krystelle did what anyone would in her position, try to justify her deviant nature with a college research paper.

Her hypothesis was that, “where her grandmother would have put pen to paper to maintain such an affair, and her mother would have picked up the phone, her natural medium was online.”

"Dearest Eustace, my loins quiver for your absent dong."
“Dearest Eustace, my loins quiver for your absent dong.”

And she’s right. As I’ve explained, pen, paper and the telephone were all invented for sexual purposes. Just try not to imagine after this painstakingly detailed recounting, your beloved Nana’s penmanship gradually deteriorate as she furiously scribbled her dirtiest thoughts into a steamy letter of passion and naughtyness, then handing it to the postman with a blush, knowing just what it was that he was holding in his hands to be delivered to Peepaw so that he might feverishly pleasure himself to the naughty words of his beloved, before wondering what this harlot who could spew such filth might be doing with the rest of her time not filled with scribbling her most deviant thoughts. Basically, what I’m saying is that your grandparents were distrustful sickos who traded sex drenched letters while they were apart, and carry with them, even today, secrets that they will be buried with…

Now where was I?

Oh, that’s right, the office chair hand dance.

“A key piece in the research that I’m conducting right now is, who do you have cybersex with? One thing that is across the board — whether I’m talking to researchers, students, anybody — is this notion that cybersex is two strangers hiding from their offline partners engaging in sex online, and I don’t think that’s reality,” she said.

Here, the fine researcher and I differ in opinion. But I suppose our only difference is what percentage of which is what…

Let me clarify.

Cybersex, as it has existed since the invention of the internet, has been largely two men pretending to be lesbians having sexy chat times, sans pants. That has remained the one constant in the ever evolving intertubes. The definition of “stranger” then becomes a sticking point. Obviously there is some getting to know this person pretending to be someone else. So when do we go from fake lesbian intercourse with a stranger to fake lesbian intercourse with an acquaintance or even fake lesbian intercourse with a friend? Fewer instances of cybersex are initiated between people who have known each other before chatting online than vicey versey is what I’m saying. More people have come together with the intention to come together than because distance necessitates it.

“I think my key thing going into this was to try to normalize a behaviour I think is fairly normal,” she said.

And while noble, and understandable, there is no normal on the internet. In a place where the words “two girls” and “one cup” now mean something that we could never have previously imagined, the wild west of human sexual deviances doesn’t want to be normalized and doesn’t need to be justified. We are a creature who evolved thumbs solely so that we could encircle our tingly bits with them. It’s our teachings over the years that that impulse is bad that makes it necessary to write a paper proving what you’re instinctively drawn to do is okay.

So what I’m saying is: human beings, get over yourselves.

Birds do it, bees do it, all the sickos and the sleaze do it. Let’s do it, let’s turn on our webcams and take off our pants!

In the Air and Office Chairs: Lady Parts is Everywheres!

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Hey you, shut up, I have a penis and it demands to be heard!

I am a man, and as such, it is my god given duty to not care about a woman’s pleasure! My divinely given external genitalia are my genetic signal to all of the animal kingdom that I am strong and make fire and am not to be fucked with. Like the tails of lesser animals, my phallus is expressive, so without even having to speak you can know exactly when I am happy or sad, frightened or rapey, simply by looking at my manhood. Mine is to be feared and worshiped at all times, which is why I do not approve of the attention that the frightening, confusing female crotchular region seems to be getting lately.

Now here is something my penis understands...
Now here is something my penis understands...

The in flight movie is the domain of Kevin James and cable repairman themed comedians. These films engage the penis on its own level, while not challenging it with feelings or story or entertainment. The male reproductive organ configuration likes things simple and dumb. Our dong can keep up with that and still split its concentration with rating the physical attractiveness of every female passenger within’ spitting distance, and that makes Mister, Happy.

But in Australia, airplanes are trying to teach people that women can enjoy sex times too.

This filthy propaganda is being carried by Australian airline “Qantas” (which I now understand is Australian for “Vagina”) in the form of a 50 minute French film entitled “The Female Orgasm Explained”. I have long heard of this mythical creature called “The Female Orgasm”, a fantasy concocted by mad sorcerers and damaged explorers returned from insane quests for lost relics. I myself have never been in the same room as one, have you? Of course not! Because we all know that this creation of the liberal media, long a puppet of Big Vagina is about as “real” as a leprechaun riding a unicorn through a field of fresh, spring Clitori… Which I assume is the plural for clitoris, ANOTHER fabrication of the vast Labial Conspiracy!

The film is available on long-haul “Video on Demand” on “The Edge” channel. And while it’s dumb and evil and I hate it, I am also naturally drawn to it. I enjoy science fiction pornography, so this premise intrigues me. And the article says that the film includes “naked scenes” which are my penis’ favorite kind! You see, this is exactly how these animals lure you in. Offering you titillation and groinal excitement, and then delivering their message of hate while your blood flow is diverted away from your brain skull. But I know their tricks, I see through their ploys. Besides, with this being a French film, it’s very unlikely that the nudity will meet my American genital grooming standards.

The flight crew are apparently able, at the request of parents, to block the content to the seats of minors. Which is comforting, because the only thing more frightening than the threat of genital equality is the possibility of future generations being taught that women are capable of sexual pleasure.

But the horrors of female pleasure don’t stop there!

I have always believed that unnecessary sex-tech should be reserved for the appendages of the hairier sex.  If there is a robot capable of repetitive tugging motions, it should be equipped with a soft silicone sleeve and placed in doctor’s offices around the globe. But the people at “Crave” an upstart “adult product” company is trying to introduce plug and play technology to the lady port.

"Put your memory where my mouth is." Slogan idea Crave, you can have that...
"Put your memory where my mouth is." Slogan idea Crave, you can have that...

Their new device, the “Duet” has “four different patterns of vibration, five power levels, and runs almost silently”. Which I don’t understand at all. How complicated are your parts that you need so much trickery and flim flammery to achieve excitism? If this “female orgasm” is such a real, existing thing, why do you need to be able to conduct a vibrational symphony to lure it out of it’s cave? Why can’t you just rub your pelvis up against something sturdy for a couple minutes until you have to change your pants, like a NORMAL person?

And one of its main features is it’s discrete design and silent running. To which I say my bologna has a first name, it’s “Bullshit!” If you want a machine to do your dirty work, it should stand three feet tall and make obscene gestures so that all the world knows what it’s all about. I don’t want to accidentally pick up a rubber paper clip off your desk, completely unaware that until I knocked on your office door your “executive assistant” was buzzing away at your little chairman in the boat in a near infinite number of possible pattern and intensity combinations!

So please, can I just review my report on my plane ride without being bombarded by things explaining the inner working of, or having possibly been recently IN your twat! Just let me just watch “Zookeeper” and ogle the well tanned sleeping student three rows up in peace, vaginas!

Sweden Wants to Steal Your Baby's Genitals

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As men, our number one mission in life is to ensure that no harm comes to our external reproductive organs. Above all else, this is our divine purpose in life. Our very existence revolves around the grandeur and majesty of our god granted penis. But if it were up to Sweden our magnificent boy glands would be treated as no more special than the common vagina!
I’ve talked in the past about a Canadian family’s attempt to keep you from knowing what their groin spawn’s packin’ in it’s Pampers, and today I find that this degenderfication of the toddler crotchscape, while just beginning to stir in the North America continent is fully engorged and raging in ye Olden Europe Towne.
Genderless Swedish "its" at play.
Genderless Swedish “its” at play.

In Stockholm Sweden, staff at “Egalia” preschool don’t refer to the children as him, her, he or she. Boys and girls play house together in a toy kitchen surrounded by Lego bricks and building blocks “to make sure the children draw no mental barriers  between cooking and construction”. The bookcases are stocked with tales of homosexual couples, single parents and adopted children. And their dolls are all anatomically correct and racially diverse

They want children to believe that their entire psychological make up and social worth and potential aren’t dictated entirely by what’s goin’ on in the pants you wear under your pants.
These penis hating, equality hugging, homosexual propagandists have some parents convinced that “An obsession with obliterating gender roles could make the children confused and ill-prepared to face the world outside kindergarten.” Because if a little boy grows up not knowing that the penis he has been favored with by the creator of the heavens and the Earth makes him special and entitled to unquestioned dominion over those cursed with the devil’s gash, how will HE ever know how much more favored HE is?
“Society expects girls to be girlie, nice and pretty and boys to be manly, rough and outgoing,” says Jenny Johnsson, a 31-year-old teacher. “Egalia gives them a fantastic opportunity to be whoever they want to be.”
Really, they just get to be WHOEVER THEY WANT TO BE? Who thought that was a good idea? Then who will be manly and outgoing? Ms. Johnsson? Girls? Don’t be ridiculous. Girls are demure and submissive, because that’s what we tell them to be, because that’s what we were told to tell them to be. An outgoing child? They have a name for that already Ms. Johnsson, it’s “boy”. And if not girls, who will be girlie and nice Ms. Johnsson? Boys? Then we’d have to call it “boylie” and that just sounds stupid. And you’re stupid for suggesting it!
But these deviants don’t just stop at claiming that boys and girls are “equals”, they also place “a special emphasis on fostering an environment tolerant of gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people.” Noting a particular example of homosexual indoctrination sitting on the children’s bookcase: “a story about two male giraffes who are sad to be childless — until they come across an abandoned crocodile egg.” That’s right, these perverts are forcing down these children’s throats tales of manic-depressive beastial-homosexual interspecies child abduction as just another socially acceptable “alternative lifestyle choice”! To suggest that two male giraffes could raise an orphaned crocodile better than a male giraffe and a female giraffe, still together only to raise the child in their loveless, spiteful, blessed union, is just irresponsible and dangerous!
But it doesn’t stop there, why would it? Why not introduce Sweden’s 1-6 year olds to the wonderful world of lesbian polygamy?
Lotta Rajalin: Inventer of the "Infinite Moms" theory.
Lotta Rajalin: Inventer of the “Infinite Moms” theory.

“When they’re playing ‘house’ and the role of the mom already is taken and they start to squabble,” Egalia Director Lotta Rajalin says. “Then we suggest two moms or three moms and so on.

You know what? At this point, why not? Why stop there? Why not five moms or ten moms or a hundred sexy, scantily clad moms, bathing each other every night while trying to balance their late night washings with the responsibility of raising a child all on their own without the firm, strong guidance of a male role model telling them that they’re doing it all wrong.
But like me Jay Belsky, child psychologist at the University of California, Davis and proud penis owner, can see clearly exactly what’s really going on in this twisted world of “gender equality” “mind control”.
“The kind of things that boys like to do — run around and turn sticks into swords — will soon be disapproved of,” he said. “So gender neutrality at its worst is emasculating maleness.”
Exactly. In a world where anything phallic is the enemy, and a country specifically where, and I am not making this up, the “Swedish Science Council had granted $80,000 for a postdoctoral fellowship aimed at analyzing ‘the trumpet as a symbol of gender.’ ” it’s all about the metaphorical castration of masculinity. Oh, children will still be able to run around and turn sticks into swords, female children, and they will be lauded, praise heaped upon them for their bravely in creating their own strong, powerful, imaginary womyn penis. While the male children will be told that their sticks are not swords at all, but merely sticks, and then their sticks will be taken away from them. And given to girls.
Because naturally, the only appropriate reaction to people proposing a de-emphasization of gender roles is to see it as an attack on maleness. The only appropriate reaction to people proposing that gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people actually be viewed as human beings worthy of equal treatment rather than scorn and derision, is to see it as an attack on maleness. The only appropriate reaction to people suggesting that a child should be allowed to discover who they might be on their own without the automatic restrictions of preprogrammed gender roles, is to see it as an attack on maleness. There is no other explanation.
There isn’t a war on the uniquely male appendage. It is not constantly under attack by those who would tell us that it doesn’t make us the most powerful, most capable, most important species of animal the planet has ever been blessed to foster. Not teaching kids that they have to be this and they have to be that just because of how they were born isn’t emasculating future men, and it isn’t masculating future women, it’s just giving kids a chance to see what else is out there, before those that weren’t raised that way tell them exactly how they have to live based solely on what parts their pants are covering. And everything’ll be right with the world once again…

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get back to thinking about those poor 100 moms, struggling to make it in a world where clothes must be rationed and lotions and oils must be constantly applied to protect against the blistering, chapped hellscape.

Sweden Wants to Steal Your Baby’s Genitals

Posted on Updated on

As men, our number one mission in life is to ensure that no harm comes to our external reproductive organs. Above all else, this is our divine purpose in life. Our very existence revolves around the grandeur and majesty of our god granted penis. But if it were up to Sweden our magnificent boy glands would be treated as no more special than the common vagina!
 
I’ve talked in the past about a Canadian family’s attempt to keep you from knowing what their groin spawn’s packin’ in it’s Pampers, and today I find that this degenderfication of the toddler crotchscape, while just beginning to stir in the North America continent is fully engorged and raging in ye Olden Europe Towne.
 
Genderless Swedish "its" at play.
Genderless Swedish "its" at play.

In Stockholm Sweden, staff at “Egalia” preschool don’t refer to the children as him, her, he or she. Boys and girls play house together in a toy kitchen surrounded by Lego bricks and building blocks “to make sure the children draw no mental barriers  between cooking and construction”. The bookcases are stocked with tales of homosexual couples, single parents and adopted children. And their dolls are all anatomically correct and racially diverse

They want children to believe that their entire psychological make up and social worth and potential aren’t dictated entirely by what’s goin’ on in the pants you wear under your pants.
 
These penis hating, equality hugging, homosexual propagandists have some parents convinced that “An obsession with obliterating gender roles could make the children confused and ill-prepared to face the world outside kindergarten.” Because if a little boy grows up not knowing that the penis he has been favored with by the creator of the heavens and the Earth makes him special and entitled to unquestioned dominion over those cursed with the devil’s gash, how will HE ever know how much more favored HE is?
 
“Society expects girls to be girlie, nice and pretty and boys to be manly, rough and outgoing,” says Jenny Johnsson, a 31-year-old teacher. “Egalia gives them a fantastic opportunity to be whoever they want to be.”
 
Really, they just get to be WHOEVER THEY WANT TO BE? Who thought that was a good idea? Then who will be manly and outgoing? Ms. Johnsson? Girls? Don’t be ridiculous. Girls are demure and submissive, because that’s what we tell them to be, because that’s what we were told to tell them to be. An outgoing child? They have a name for that already Ms. Johnsson, it’s “boy”. And if not girls, who will be girlie and nice Ms. Johnsson? Boys? Then we’d have to call it “boylie” and that just sounds stupid. And you’re stupid for suggesting it!
 
But these deviants don’t just stop at claiming that boys and girls are “equals”, they also place “a special emphasis on fostering an environment tolerant of gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people.” Noting a particular example of homosexual indoctrination sitting on the children’s bookcase: “a story about two male giraffes who are sad to be childless — until they come across an abandoned crocodile egg.” That’s right, these perverts are forcing down these children’s throats tales of manic-depressive beastial-homosexual interspecies child abduction as just another socially acceptable “alternative lifestyle choice”! To suggest that two male giraffes could raise an orphaned crocodile better than a male giraffe and a female giraffe, still together only to raise the child in their loveless, spiteful, blessed union, is just irresponsible and dangerous!
 
But it doesn’t stop there, why would it? Why not introduce Sweden’s 1-6 year olds to the wonderful world of lesbian polygamy? 
Lotta Rajalin: Inventer of the "Infinite Moms" theory.
Lotta Rajalin: Inventer of the "Infinite Moms" theory.

“When they’re playing ‘house’ and the role of the mom already is taken and they start to squabble,” Egalia Director Lotta Rajalin says. “Then we suggest two moms or three moms and so on.

You know what? At this point, why not? Why stop there? Why not five moms or ten moms or a hundred sexy, scantily clad moms, bathing each other every night while trying to balance their late night washings with the responsibility of raising a child all on their own without the firm, strong guidance of a male role model telling them that they’re doing it all wrong.
 
But like me Jay Belsky, child psychologist at the University of California, Davis and proud penis owner, can see clearly exactly what’s really going on in this twisted world of “gender equality” “mind control”.
 
“The kind of things that boys like to do — run around and turn sticks into swords — will soon be disapproved of,” he said. “So gender neutrality at its worst is emasculating maleness.”
 
Exactly. In a world where anything phallic is the enemy, and a country specifically where, and I am not making this up, the “Swedish Science Council had granted $80,000 for a postdoctoral fellowship aimed at analyzing ‘the trumpet as a symbol of gender.’ ” it’s all about the metaphorical castration of masculinity. Oh, children will still be able to run around and turn sticks into swords, female children, and they will be lauded, praise heaped upon them for their bravely in creating their own strong, powerful, imaginary womyn penis. While the male children will be told that their sticks are not swords at all, but merely sticks, and then their sticks will be taken away from them. And given to girls.
 
Because naturally, the only appropriate reaction to people proposing a de-emphasization of gender roles is to see it as an attack on maleness. The only appropriate reaction to people proposing that gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people actually be viewed as human beings worthy of equal treatment rather than scorn and derision, is to see it as an attack on maleness. The only appropriate reaction to people suggesting that a child should be allowed to discover who they might be on their own without the automatic restrictions of preprogrammed gender roles, is to see it as an attack on maleness. There is no other explanation.
 
There isn’t a war on the uniquely male appendage. It is not constantly under attack by those who would tell us that it doesn’t make us the most powerful, most capable, most important species of animal the planet has ever been blessed to foster. Not teaching kids that they have to be this and they have to be that just because of how they were born isn’t emasculating future men, and it isn’t masculating future women, it’s just giving kids a chance to see what else is out there, before those that weren’t raised that way tell them exactly how they have to live based solely on what parts their pants are covering. And everything’ll be right with the world once again…

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get back to thinking about those poor 100 moms, struggling to make it in a world where clothes must be rationed and lotions and oils must be constantly applied to protect against the blistering, chapped hellscape.

Secret Baby Genitalia Are Destroying Our Country

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Your child needs to be told by everyone exactly what their genitalia mean to them socially and psychologically but then must never, under any circumstances, ever actually be instructed on how to use them by anyone. Especially not with weird anatomically correctish stuffed toys… But we’ll get to that…

You see, two equally and oppositely frustrating stories popped up in various newsy type web siteries recently that just made me want to tell everyone not directly involved with the current raising of a child anywhere in the world to take a nice big cleansing breath and shut entirely the fuck up.

Like anyone else, I just see this happy baby and need to know, what's goin' on DOWN THERE!"
Like anyone else, I just see this happy baby and need to know, what's goin' on DOWN THERE!"

Firstly, a relatively popular story of a newborn it named “Storm Stocker” has for no good reason pissed off a number of people who have absolutely nothing to do with this particular child thing. Apparently the reason this baby makes so many people angry is that it doesn’t know if it should shit itself like a baby girl or throw up on everyone that touches it like a baby boy. This genderless diaper of confusion is being raised by a pair of child endangermenters in Canada who have decided that they would simply rather not tell the world what’s going on in their infant’s nappy. They have this crazy notion that the world doesn’t need to know the specifics of their offspring’s genital configuration, which for some reason seems to have caused an uproar in a rather vocal group of baby penis and vagina enthusiasts.

And of course, rather than simply allow these parents to raise their very own child as they damned well see fit complete strangers call them crazy and experts call it “potentially disastrous”, while not understanding what words mean.

“To raise a child not as a boy or a girl is creating, in some sense, a freak,” said Dr. Eugene Beresin, director of training in child and adolescent psychiatry at Massachusetts General Hospital. “It sets them up for not knowing who they are.”

So this “expert” on ASOLESCENT PSYCHIATRY believes that the best way to describe this child who he knows nothing about and who frankly, knows nothing about itself,  is “freak”. Firstly, its people calling others freaks that sort of make them that thing. Secondly, this “expert” seems to imply that the only way a person knows anything about who they are, as a person, is by understanding who’s parts they have and what society says that means about who they are.

“To have a sense of self and personal identity is a critical part of normal healthy development,” he said. “This blocks that and sets the child up for bullying, scapegoating, and marginalization.”

To have a sense of self and personal identity IS a critical part of normal, healthy development, but to have that sense of self and personal identity hamstrung immediately by gender roles imposed by society and dogma does nothing what so ever to help promote the normal or healthy development of a human being’s personal sense of self and identity. Gender, more than anything, inhibits and limits the discovery of an individual’s personal identity, because to honestly explore exactly who you are in a way that contradicts preconceived gender specifications makes people fucking uncomfortable, if  for no other reason than pointing out the lack of choice they had and how fucked up THEY were by the roles they were forced into.

“We all have sexual identity,” said Beresin. “The mission to have masculine and feminine traits more equalized and more flexible and not judgmental is awesome in a utopian community. But we take pride in our sexual identity.”

A child takes absolutely no pride in their sexual identity. These parts that make them specifically this or specifically that mean no more to a young child than an ear lobe or an asshole. There’s plenty of time for their parts to define them later, when it’s unavoidable and everyone around them is unable to judge them by anything other than their gender because that’s how they were taught to identify everyone in their lives. And just because the world ain’t perfect, doesn’t mean these parents can’t try to strip away one of the biggest obstacles in their child’s future struggles for as long as they can while their child tries to discover other, more important things about themselves.

“Identity formation is really critical for every human being and part of that is gender,” Beresin said. “There are many cultural and social forces at play.”

It’s impossible to deny, part of that identity formation is indeed gender, but it should be the smallest part of it, not the biggest as all of the busy body opponents of these parent’s plan for raising their child want to make it. Your slit or your schlong shouldn’t be the first things that determine the direction of your life, it’ll direct the kid enough later, let’s spend some time learning what else might be going on inside it first before we tell it what it can and can’t be.

Meanwhile, in Switzerland sex ed programs are handing out stuffed vagina and wooden penis toys to school kids and the Swiss are losing their shit.

“Children should be encouraged to develop and experience their sexuality in a pleasurable way,” Daniel Schneider, a deputy kindergarten rector for Basel who helped develop the sex ed curriculum along with experts.

When a lumpy thing loves another weird squishy thing very much...
When a lumpy thing loves another weird squishy thing very much...
 

Of course, the same people who want to make sure their children understand that they’re a boy and they should do boy things, don’t want them to know what the boyest thing they could do is or how to do it.

Sure, some of the details sound kinda odd, such as the kindergarten teachers being instructed to “show that contacting body parts can be pleasurable.” and “recommends having children massage each other or to rub themselves with warm sand bags, all accompanied by soft music.” That seems more like entrapment than anything else, but I’m not a child sexology expert either, so what do I know?

But maybe the biggest problem for these parents IS encouraging children to “experience their sexuality in a pleasurable way”. These people believe that they should know what being a boy or a girl, a man or a woman means, but that they shouldn’t express, explore or discover anything else beyond their predetermined role. That hiding from them what their parts do is the best way to keep them from using them. It seems thousands of years of history has proven that to be a ridiculous theory, so why not then try to teach these children, who will learn it one way or another, how to do so safely, responsibly and enjoyably, rather than tell them that they shouldn’t do anything and if they do, they should keep it a secret and be ashamed of it. Talk to your kid, treat them like a responsible, thoughtful person, and they might be one.

Ultimately, a school doctor quoted in the “sex box” article sums it all up much more succinctly than I have been saying that the “the taboo around sex and sex ed is a problem that only adults have.”

Reaching 100 With Class

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Cooler than that hundred. Not quite as cool as the hundred he got shortly after taking this picture.
Cooler than that hundred. Not quite as cool as the hundred he got shortly after taking this picture.

It’s been almost exactly four months since this Candy filled Van of hilarity and yuks hit the road. We like to think in that time we have firmly established ourselves as one of the class acts of internet humor sites.

It is with that standard of excellence in mind that we come to you today to celebrate our 100th bloggy contribution to the world of internet chuckles. Naturally, on such a momentous occasion, we at Van Full of Candy wanted to celebrate our 100th post in the classiest way we could think of. And after much pinky extended thought and salad fork musing, we finally settled on how best to mark this special moment in keeping with the lofty standards of excellence that we have established for ourselves and our viewers over the previous 99 classy missives.

So ladies and gentlemen, in honor of our 100th post Van Full of Candy is proud to present 100 newly minted terms for our favorite private parts in no particular.

Please, enjoy.

Dumb & Dumber
No Shoes No Shirt No Service
BAM SUCKA!!
T-shirt Tents
Earl Grey
The Baby Laser
Squeezy Toys
Bajing-jangs
Whistle Rocket with Report
The Comfy Sisters
Big & Slightly Bigger
Clackers
Moist Cave
The Orbs of Testicleez
The Stinky Off Ramp
Justice Gavel
Two Percent & Skim
Foul Mouthed Cheeky Bastard
The Womb Wick
DJ Spunky on the Ones and Twos
Wrong Turn of the Taint Junction
Convex Happiness
Marble Madness
The Good Kind of Fatty Sacks
Dangly Bits
Two Cups of Cream
Professor Blumpkin’s Mine
Low Hanging Fruit of the Vine
Cashew and Pistachio
Vangina
Groin Uvula
Comfort Food
Happy Dampy
The Batcave
The Fellas
Gashy
Smeary sandwich
Cave of Wonder
Turtle Crowning
Red Velvet Cake Taco
The Goal
Rusty Busted Pipe Burst
Abalone Avenue
The Enchanted Forest
Kielbasa Holder
Sack Religious
Germany’s Main Event
Kate Spades
Hefty Cinch SAK
Don King
Jack LaLanne’s Power Juicer
Non Almond Joys
2 Egg Omelette
Happy Time Fun Factory
Flotilla
Slip n Slide
Uncle Peen’s Humid Summer Cabin
Jack’s Magical Beans
The Mystery Spot
The Brothers Bouncy
The Joy Chasm
Puddin’ Pie
Easy Bake Oven
Corn Smuggler
The Tender’s
Spitter of Unborn Souls
Target Practice
Bag o’ Fun
Salami Sleeve
Bread Box
Bologna Rollup
Manual Transmission Stick
Daddy’s One Time Only Drunken Birthday Promise
Splinterless Totem Pole
The Sprinkler
Duncan Hines Brownie Factory
Chilean Mine Collapse
You’re Welcome
The Log Ride
Severe Tire Damage
Tijuana Pony Show
The ol’ Mouth Full
Silky Soft Semen Satchel
Sneezy
The ex’s Speed Bag
Cream filled Flesh Twinkie
The Inside Out Uterus
Please Hammer Don’t Hurt ‘Em
Flappy Hand Warmer
The Dream Eater
The Rib Cage Ridge
Stargate: Pooplantis
Spare Eyeballs
Open Face Tuna Melt
The Path of Least Resistance
The Apology Hole
The Pink Piston
Torso Speed Bumps
The Llama
Perky Poncho Protrusions
The Man Handle

TV Review: "Mr. Sunshine" / Groupon

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I had intended on reviewing Matthew Perry’s latest cancelled television program this morning and took a surprising left turn. Come with me on a journey through the career wasteland of an actor who got really lucky one time, and freshly shorn vaginas that hate the environment.
The smirk of a son of a bitch who knows exactly how lucky he is.
The smirk of a son of a bitch who knows exactly how lucky he is.

Let us begin with the debut of “Mr. Sunshine”, a show that you’d better hate now while you’ve still got the chance. From the writers who heard about “Becker” and saw almost half an episode of “Parks and Recreations”, we get “Mr. Sunshine”, featuring Matthew Perry playing Matthew Perry as a vaguely defined San Diego sports arena muckity muck. Finally answering the age-old question “Why don’t I care about who orders all of the peanuts in a place like that?”

The main problem with “Mr. Sunshine”, aside from it being shown to anyone not responsible for making sure that those involved never got another job in the entertainment industry ever again, is it’s half-hearted attempt at “edge”. It feels like all of the interns working on “Community” rose up and decided that they could make their own, edgier show if they could just raise enough money to rent a “Friends” star for an afternoon.

There is absolutely nothing special about “Mr. Sunshine”, except for how precisely it has all of the pieces of a successfully failed show: the uppity lead who will spend a half a season learning a lesson and then never changing again, the functionally retarded buffoon man-child who can say all of the writers most pointless non-sequitors, and the Allison Janney as Jane Lynch playing Alec Baldwin.

Halfway through this waste of everyone’s time, I was actually worried about how I would formulate a review of a show as bland and predictable as a beige whoopee cushion, but then I was treated to a pleasant surprise in the form of one of Groupon’s new commercials.

I’m not going to bore you with all the details, but the punchline was “I got a super great deal on a pussy waxing!”

Perhaps I SHOULD elaborate.

It's like a raped tropical rain forrest, in her pants.
It's like a raped tropical rain forrest, in her pants.

I, like most people who own a television, saw the debut of Groupon’s new ad campaign during the Super Foot, Bowl Match Contest last Sunday. Now, the name of the game in Super Bowl advertising is “Zow!”. That is an actual industry term and is in no way me simply belittling the proud men and women whose job it is to try to trick us into purchasing shit we don’t need. The Super Bowl is, for lack of a more exactly fitting term, the Super Bowl of advertising. A thirty-second commercial spot during the game costs anywhere between 14 and 700 quatrillion Dollar Bucks. That’s big time money, and it is so much because for that four-hour block every single person, living or dead, is tuned into the game and just sitting on shit piles of money that they need to be told what to do with. It’s a true science fact. So the way you make your mark on an audience of that size is by doing something either very clever, or very stupid, and since we are in a very real clever drought, stupid usually rules the day.

So it turns out that there was a group of people who told viewers that they should have been offended by Groupon’s new “Suck it, World” ad campaign. And while I thought that openly mocking the plight of a mostly peaceable people, was certainly an interesting choice by the people at a website for coupons to flight simulator classes and restaurants that people don’t go to, I didn’t really think much else about that specific message because I don’t generally put a lot of curry in my mouth. But this ad, oddly enough, did get my attention.

So the basic set up is the same, a sort of mock public service announcement with your standard insincere run down of something that we should all really care about if only we could get 50-90% off of our not caring. Elizabeth Hurley in a bath robe pretends to educate us about the Brazilian rain forest being stripped bare of trees, like so many labia follicles being torn from mother Earth’s tenderest of flesh. But that’s okay, because she got a voucher for a discounted cunt deforestation of her own, so YAY!

Now, it’s really no secret that America doesn’t give a shit about the rest of the world, but is it really necessary to rub the planet’s collective nose in your freshly de-pubed twats of uncaring? And why are so many people pretending to be offended by being reminded that they don’t care. We knew you didn’t care about Tibet or the rain forest before this commercial, so what you’re really upset about is someone pointing out the fact that you don’t care. You see, as long as everyone doesn’t care equally we’re all right, but the second someone reminds you of something horrible and mocks you for not caring about it, it suddenly becomes the only thing in the world that you’ve ever wanted anything done about. For a second, until everyone forgets and we can all go back to comfortably not caring again.

So cut it out commercials. Stop making people feel bad that they don’t feel bad. People don’t watch horrible new Matthew Perry television shows to be told they don’t care enough about once proud, respected institutions that have since become pathetic, pitiable charity cases!