Time for your Deadspin Open Mailbag Tuesday. Email us here or submit your questions via Twitter. This week, we're covering urinary habits of Latino minor leaguers, Rosetta Stone lady, and prison baseball.
Okay, the mailbag was so overstuffed this week that I had to split it into two parts. Today, we're gonna do the general mailbag shit. Then for Friday's FKS post, because so many of you had a worthy viewpoint on it, we'll have a very special mailbag dedicated solely to settling the whole sitting vs. standing while wiping issue once and for all. Please, don't send any more letters on this topic. We now have this area more than covered.
Now let's dive into this beast.
I play minor league baseball, so obviously we spend the majority of our time in hotels. Usually Latinos are roomed with Latinos, and Americans with Americans, further adding to the division that already exists there. But occasionally the numbers don't match up so a Latin and American are roomed together, providing the Americans with rare insight into their ways. Now Latinos treasure their sleep like few other things, so they have used their ingenuity to devise a way not to get out of bed: the hotel ice bucket. Simply grab that bad boy and put it on the nightstand before you fall asleep, then in the morning all you have to do is roll over, flop it out, and let it rip, all without having to take that laborious walk to the bathroom and exposing yourself to those harmful, awakening rays of light. We all found this pretty fucking disgusting, but I thought you might appreciate it.
Oh, and as an aside, Latinos don't flush their used toilet paper either, putting it in the garbage can instead. It provides a very distinctive, undigested Chipotle smell to their rooms.
Now wait a second, what real Latino player is gonna go have dinner at Chipotle? That's a disgrace. If you're a card-carrying Latino person and you eat at Chipotle, shame on you. SHAME ON YOU.
Use of the hotel ice bucket reminds me of college. Every guy I knew back in college would usually piss by draining it in to an empty Colt .45 bottle and then leaving it. This was done because A) It was convenient, and B) Obvious comedic misunderstandings would result should someone mistake the piss bottle for an actual bottle of malt liquor. All things considered, I'd rather drink from a piss bottle by accident than a dip spit bottle by accident. When I went to Michigan for a semester, guys in South Quad would piss into empty Snapple bottles and then chuck them out the window when the bottles became too numerous. Keep in mind, there was a perfectly functional bathroom mere steps away. But we pissed in Snapple bottles anyway. TAKE THAT, LAZY DOMINICANS!
In a way, I sympathize with the Latinos not wanting to use the john to piss at night or in the early morning. There are two kinds of darkness in the world. There's regular darkness, and then there is hotel room darkness. The inner shade used by most hotels could repel light even if the sun was five fucking feet from your window. Walking through a dark hotel room is like swimming in petroleum. Visibility is virtually nil. Also, if you're like me, you go to great lengths to make sure those shades are drawn as tightly as possible, so that you don't get that Staff of Ra beam of light blasting through the crack the next morning. That is a fucking brutal ray of light, right there. Opening those hotel room shades feels like you just went onto the stage at the Met.
I live in Seattle, so most of the people are, like me, transplants from somewhere else. Was talking at the bar the other night with a bunch of my buddies and someone brought up the subject of the great game that was Smear the Queer. They were right - it was a great game. I am really astonished I made it through childhood playing games that were basically an excuse for 5 guys to beat the crap out of the moron who happened to be carrying the ball.
However, almost everyone at the table was from different parts of the country. Yet even though they grew up separated by thousands of miles, with no internet to transmit the rules or, more importantly, the name of the game, everyone knew exactly what we were talking about.
How the fuck does that happen?
As a coincidence, I got a call this week from my sister-in-law, which went something like this:
HER: Hey Drew, you're a big football fan, right?
HER: Okay, I was wondering if you could settle something for me. (My wife's brother) told me that, when he was a kid, he played some horrible game called… Smear the Queer? Is that a real game? I bet him that he was making it all up.
ME: No, that's a real game. The guy with the ball is the queer, and you try and kick his ass.
HER: That's horrible.
ME: Yeah well, what are you gonna do. Pony up to your hubby, girlfriend.
Now, my brother-in-law grew up in Maryland. I played STQ when my family lived in Chicago when I was about 5 or so. So there's two places the game was played. It is amazing, when you think about it. It shows you just how prevalent homophobia is amongst violent kindergarteners. Who knew?
Dude, they make THC infused lolipops. My buddy got them at a dispensary in Denver and took them to the Steelers-Broncos game. All positive reviews. He is supposed to UPS some to me but he is lazy as shit.
Of course he's lazy as shit. He's on THC-infused lollipops.
Just thought I'd share some information about those fentanyl pops. First of all, they're 100x stronger than morphine because fentanyl doses are measured in MICROgrams (or some crazy small unit like that) whereas morphine is milligrams. It doesn't mean it's more powerful than morphine necessarily, it's just that if you were to take the same amount of fentanyl as you would morphine you'd probably die.
Oooh, death. THE ULTIMATE HIGH.
I have been fortunate enough to try these lollipops recreationally (and not because I have cancer), and let me tell you that if they were more readily available I would certainly have been on Intervention myself. You suck on the thing for like 2 minutes and you feel awesome for 5 hours. And they taste good and smell like cotton candy. Far and away the best drug (besides maybe LSD) that I've ever experienced. The best part is you can it do anytime, anywhere. Sitting in class, driving around, watching TV with relatives, it doesn't matter.
God damn, that sounds great. I wish I were an eight year old with leukemia.
I was watching parts of "Intervention" last night, and the story centered on Greg, who became addicted to morphine after falling 20 feet and shattering his lower back. Greg said he needed the medicine to get rid of the pain, or else he was in pain 24 hours a day, regardless of standing, sitting, or laying down. And his family thought he was bullshitting.
Let me tell you something, Greg's family: When your lower back is shattered, and they have to build a cage around your spine because it got fucking crushed, there's a very good chance you will end up in chronic, agonizing pain. Pain that is completely immune to the likes of Tylenol3, Percocet, and Vicodin. No bullshit. Take it from someone who has had similar pain. Let that man have his morphine, dammit. Greg ain't bullshitting. It's either 24-hour anguish, or an addiction that will ruin his life. I'd take addiction in an instant.
I'm sure you're gonna get a lot of emails about this, but Tony Iommi of Black Sabbath also uses a Gibson SG and many would argue that he is as influential/badass, if not more so than Angus Young.
/hits self with guitar
Am I the only person who has to have a list before you go grocery shopping? Not just any old list either, it must be in order of where those items are in the store. I always start on the far left of the store with Beer and by the time I'm done I'm at the exact opposite end where the fruits and vegetables (and cheese) are. A few weeks ago my wife made a shopping list with no regard to my listing system and it fucked me all up! I spent twice as long as I normally do and I must have criss-crossed the store 5 times... Is list-ordering normal or do I have OCD or what?
You do NOT have OCD. I make a list for the grocery store (largely because the Mrs. did it when I married her). She, like you, arranges the list in order of store placement. Going to some other store completely ruins the list.
I view any trip to the grocery store where I have to double back as a complete fucking failure. And 100% of my trips are failures. I always miss something on the list, or I misjudge where something is. Or they moved an item to a front-aisle display and I have no fucking clue where it is. I also have trouble just SEEING the item. There are times when you will find me in the store, staring at the cans for 15-minute chunks because I know the kidney beans are in that section, but I am unable to locate them.
Side note: On Sunday, I went to the store. Everyone knows Sunday afternoon is a peak time for grocery buying. So I walk into the store, and not only are they still stocking aisles (i.e., giant stocking carts are blocking the aisles, preventing traffic flow), but they also had out free sample display table that further restricted available aisle space. It wasn't even good free samples, either. It was mock crab salad on a water cracker. FUCK YOU, GROCERY STORE. Aisle space is precious. DO NOT FUCK WITH IT. There needs to be enough space in the aisle for no less than three carts to fit side by side, so you can pass the asshole old lady parked in the center of the aisle on either side. And to those of you non-old people who park your cart in the center of the aisle, just know that I will kill you. I will find your house, and I will sneak inside and murder you and your family.
Shampoo or liquid body wash to wash your balls? I like to mix it up, and usually go liquid soap if I use my wife's loofa but will go shampoo if just applying directly.
I too go both ways. I use leftover hair lather to foam the nuts, then I finish off with the shower poof. You cannot get your nuts clean enough. I've tried using leftover hair lather for masturbatory purposes. Not terribly effective. I pull a glute trying to jerk in the shower.
What's your opinion on the ticker that runs at the bottom of the screen during Sportscenter/re? It drives me batshit insane when I am watching highlights of a game to which I don't know the result, and just as they're building suspense for the outcome, the fucking score flashes at the bottom of the screen! To use a Canadian example (sorry), I was watching highlights of the Grey Cup, and while the highlights are in the middle of the third quarter, MONTREAL 28, SASKATCHEWAN 27 (F) scrolls on the ticker. Fabulous, that in no way detracted from the suspense for me!
I concur. On the rare occasion that I don't know the outcome, I have taken to placing my hand over the BottomLine in an attempt to block it. But it is amazing how the BottomLine is timed to reveal critical scores only at the exact moment you don't wish to know them. This is why the Internet is so very important.
My least favorite part about the holidays is figuring out for whom I'm obligated to buy gifts. And, what the hell do you get them?
I have the same problem every year now. I'm going to my folks' house for the holiday. Fourteen people will squeeze into the house for a week, including six kids under 5 years old. My wife suggested we just do gifts Secret Santa style, so we only have to get gifts for one person or one family. But my mom said, "No, no. We'll just do gifts for the kids and stockings for the adults."
Well, FUCK MAN. Filling a stocking for someone is a bitch. Now I can't just buy one stupid gift. I have to buy many very small gifts for all 14 goddamn people. Bullshit. Then there are the in-laws, and friends, and Leitch, and all these other people. I say NO Xmas gifts for anyone but your family. Ever. Especially if you're over 21. No one over 21 ever needs a fucking gift for anything.
Do you openly discuss your wife's pooping habits as much as you discuss your own?
When I first did standup, one of the stories I told was about the time my wife came running up to me one day urgently and we had this exchange:
HER: I just realized we're eating too many fatty foods.
ME: How do you know that, apart from the fact that I'm fat?
HER: (whispers despite no one else being in the room) Because I took a shit and it floated.
ME: I don't love you anymore.
She was not pleased about me divulging that bit of information.
Do you know what sucks? Buying toilet paper. I decided, once I reached a certain station in life, that I was only going with the good stuff henceforth. Shitty toilet paper requires you to fold over like 8 sheets per wipe, and still leaves little pieces of paper stuck in your bunghole. I'm willing to pay that wopping extra dollar for quality.
So why do stores make it so fucking hard for me to do so? First of all, two ply is a given standard. So why do they write the ply count in tiny letters hidden somewhere on the plastic wrap?
Not only that, but certain toilet paper brands have changed. Quilted Northern used to be very thick and velvety. BUT THEY CHANGED THE FORMULA, I TELL YOU. It became fucking Scott Tissue overnight. Cottonelle changed too. It's not even ply count that matter anymore. You can get two-ply that's thinner than a pencil line. Cheap fuckers.
I just finished reading your latest mailbag and wait...you don't have a DVR?!? You fucking shithead—don't you realize that a complete moron would NOT have DVR service??? Seriously, not having DVR in 2009 is like my one friend who refused to get a cell phone until about 2007 because "he just didn't really need it". Yeah, he was a moron too. He'd be like, "Hey, you guys went out for happy hour last night? why didn't anyone tell me!?!" Because nobody knows how the fuck to find you, fucktard!
Oh, you think I like the fact that I don't have DVR? You think I don't know EXACTLY what the fuck I'm missing? You think I haven't explained to the wife that having DVR is more important than paying for COBRA benefits, only to have it fall on deaf ears? FUCK YOU.
I'm from New Zealand and we have Xmas during summer. I don't know if you've ever considered this to be a good or bad thing but it fucken rules. You Northern Hemisphere folks can have your snow and hot egg-nog, we have fucken sunshine and cold beer. Almost every household has a BBQ on Christmas Day, it's fucken bliss.
We've got it all sweet down here.
Well, go fuck a sheep, Frodo. I bet you have a DVR too. ISN'T LIFE JUST PEACHY FOR YOU? Asshole.
How the fuck can you make a suicide pick and lose three times? It's a suicide pick. How many fuckers succeed at suicide and get to do it two more times? This type of ass-baggary makes you slightly less intelligent than John Clayton's hair bun.
Hi Drew, did you get a memo sent out by the NFL that all phraseology previously used to describe blocking (you know, like sealing or pancaking) is heretofore rendered obsolete. Each gamecast must now contain the phrase "setting the edge" a minimum of 4 times.
THIS GUY… you talk abut SETTING THE EDGE!
HBO was showing the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame concert over the weekend. BB King, U2, Bruce, Metallica, Stevie Wonder, Ozzy, Aretha Franklin, Sting, Billy Joel among others. Not that you had to dig all their music, but they were on top of their particular game for decades and were recognizable for their talent regardless of genre. 20 years from now, what bands/artists are playing that show? Or will they have shuttered the place by then?
I assume they'll just bring those same assholes back for another round. Just like the NFL will have to start repeating old performers again in few years. The Who are about the last old act they have left. Tom Petty will be back.
They'll probably have Beyonce and Justin Timberlake and Coldplay on stage 20 years from now. And Mick Jagger, because the Hall is run by Jann Wenner, and Jann Wenner can't take a shit without asking Mick Jagger for permission first.
Perhaps you have discussed this at some other point, but one underrated thing about parenthood (once the kids gets get off the breast or the bottle) is the whole milk. You ever drink this? You practically have to chew it. Whole milk and sugary cereal is a delight. And since the milk is for your kid, you don't feel guilty or like a fatass for purchasing it.
See, I have the opposite reaction to whole milk. I'm so used to skim milk, the thickness of whole milk disturbs me. I feel like I'm drinking human breast milk.
Also, I've gotten out of control eating all my kid's leftover food. It's gotten to the point where I don't even ask my kid twice if she's done with the dinosaur chicken nugget. I just eat it right off the bat, then the Mrs. hits my hand with a ruler.
Thank you for calling out people who affect accents. I specifically decided NOT to study abroad in college because so many of my friends came back with that stupid fucking British lilt at the end of questions (eg, "Should we go to the pub, then?"). Equally awful were the people who, entirely without being asked, would interject their self-serving "When I was in Dublin..." anecdotes where they didn't belong, or would steer the conversation back toward their study abroad experience ("This steak is good, but when I was in Argentina, we had REAL steak.") Which is worse, accent affectation or HEY LISTEN TO ME I'VE TRAVELED anecdotes?
The accent. I'll confess right now. I say "cheers" instead of "thanks" sometimes, because I liked that they did that in England. KOGOD hates this and thinks I'm a complete asshat for doing it. Fair enough, OLD CHAP!
I had one friend who came back from England and called college "university" after that. As in, "When I was at university…" I wanted to punch him in the sternum when he did that.
The whole top/bottom thing is way overplayed by the media. Most gay guys I know may have one preference over the other (which is kinda why the delineation is there, so you know how a one-night pickup is going to end) but still do both. Exclusively "tops" are way too selfish, exclusive "bottoms" are too passive in my opinion. I think healthy relationships do share pitching duties. Plus, sharing duties is a great excuse to have more sex, which you can never go wrong with.
Indeed. More gay sex for me, please! I wonder what two bottoms do when they end up hooking up inadvertently. Imagine them both "presenting" themselves for each other. Awkward! "Look, usually I'm the one who gets it… Oh, god dammit. Do you have Fred Smoot's number?"
Drew, do you ever inexplicably continue to eat something that has no taste/tastes bad? I just realized that these pita chips SUCK and should only ever be used as a vessel for humus/cheese intake. Yet I have no hummus or cheese, and I'm not really hungry, but I continue to snack on these wafers of terribility. Wtf?
I also do this, because I am fat. But fear not, Chris. It's not your fault. Much of your food is engineered that way. No lie. When I worked on the Hershey account, one of the products they came up with were Hershey Bites, bite-sized little balls of various candy put in a pouch. The reason they invented this was to encourage what is known in the food industry as mindless munching, which is when you eat for the sake of eating, usually between meals. So they came up with Hershey's Bites, so you would eat candy in that situation, as opposed to a candy bar, which is an impulse purchase people make for a snack. In other words, they didn't want you eating Bites at the expense of not buying a candy bar. They were trying to invent a second occasion in the day in which you would eat candy. And they succeeded. Because eating more candy is better than eating the same amount of candy.
Do you ever eat while shitting?
Usually not. The cardinal rule (taken from Men With Balls) is that you should never eat while watching pornography. But I've eaten while pooping. Usually, it's to finish eating something. Like, I'm eating a granola bar, then a turtle pops up, so I bring it in with me. That's the only time I do it. My wife is repulsed by this. If you're taking a plate of waffles under a silver dome with you to the shitter, that would be odd.
Is it possible to order a coke from McDonalds and not press in the Diet and Other tabs on the lid? I'm not sure its physically possible to resist that temptation.
Speaking of kiddie farts in this past week's mailbag, have you ever made this mistake? As a new parent, I learned my lesson quick. Basically, your kid makes a loud, quasi-shitting fart, that to the untrained ear could easily be one or the other. In a effort to asses and deal with the situation quickly, you go in for a quick sniff check, and inhale WAYYYYY too hard. It's basically akin to taking a babyfart bong rip. Just awful.
Still not as bad as emptying the diaper pail. Like I said, emptying the diaper pail is like being gangbanged with farts.
Recently on my way home, I found myself behind a Smart car. You know, the tiny, eco-friendly vehicle that has become the auto of choice for hipster doofuses who used to drive Mini Coopers but instead now want to appear Mother Earth friendly?
The kicker was that this particular car's vanity plate read: SMART IQ. I swear I've never been more fucking incensed by a custom plate than this one. I found myself praying that the stop arm on the railroad tracks we were approaching would malfunction and that the car would be flattened by a northbound Conrail freight train.
Agreed. Huge douche plate.
What language do people who are multilingual think in? Is it their primary language? Is it the language that they are speaking at that moment? Or does it depend on the subject?
My mother-in-law is from Germany, and though she's lived here for over two decades, she still thinks and dreams mostly in German. But I don't think it's a hard and fast rule. All I know is that if I had to spend 25 years speaking one language and thinking in another, my brain would collapse.
Is there a movie, as a heterosexual man, you like that other men would consider really gay? One time my college roommate and I were flipping through the channels and I skipped over the movie "Ghost." He screamed for me to go back because it was on. Also, my 50 year old dad LOVES the movie "She's All That." He'll watch it every time it is on TV. I will watch any movie that has Hugh Grant. What's yours?
Does "About A Boy" count? No? Then, "Bridget Jones Diary". I'm fine with any chick flick that has British people and curse words in it. Except "Notting Hill."
I have a question for your fe-mailbag readership: WHAT is with the goddamned hair in the drain!?!/!1! (My GOD! Do I shed that much too? Why isn't my shit in the drain?) Why do I have to be the one to grab a heaping wad of TP and fish out the sizeable hairwad so we don't have to shower in Waterworld? Every guy I know that has lived with a girl has had the same experience. Does this issue disappear magically once you marry?
No. Why would it disappear upon marriage? You didn't even mention the hairbrush. Most girls have a hairbrush that looks like a working loom. It's like a cotton candy cone. You could pull a full toupee for Jeffrey Tambor out of that hairbrush.
My wife also has nine different hairbrushes. No clue why. Oh. that's the curling brush? Okay then.
My wife used to think I was the fucking king at building stuff. You name it, I could put it together with the right tools and enough beer. Now, thanks to IKEA, she feels that she should go through the assembly process for ANYTHING with me. New table? Yup. Floor Lamp? Definitely. Electronic toothbrush? No question.
This has all stemmed from ONE time when I was putting together a huge bookshelf from those Swedish bastards She asks "What's wrong?" I say "Some of these drawings are really vague". She gets this worried look in her eyes like I've just told her I can't actually read or write. I get about 4 more steps in and realize that I have to go back to that step because those two table legs that were the SAME GODDAMN SIZE AS THE GUY were actually small little connectors that I thought went in later on.
Since then we get to spend "quality time" assembling things while I try not to yell at her for getting in the way and she gets mad at me for my tone. It always starts out like she's just going to watch and be an extra pair of hands but then it turns into the fucking Amazing Race as we argue over instructions and stop speaking to each other for a day or two.
Yup. Same boat here. I start putting shit together, then my lady will come over to check on my handiwork. "Are you sure that's supposed to be like that?" NO. I HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA. BUT I AM A GROWN MAN AND CAN SORT THIS OUT ON MY OWN. NOW PISS OFF AND LEAVE ME THE LAST VESTIGE OF MY MANHOOD.
The worst thing is that, when your wife comes over to have a look, that's exactly the moment you've fucked up. ALWAYS. God always choreographs it so you look as incompetent as possible in front of your spouse. FUCK YOU, GOD.
Am I the only one who gets a total fucking chub every time one of those Rosetta Stone commercials with the chick with the perfect face and cleavage comes on? I swear I can't even count the number of times I've been watching TV at night (after the Mrs goes to bed) and seen that commercial and just started furiously beating it. And she's not even my type, I prefer the blonde hair/blue eyed look. Am I the only guy who this chick makes unbelievably horny every time I see her?
The woman in question is Lesliey Ann Machado. She's the Joan Halloway of Rosetta Stone. Heaving breasts translate in any language.
How does your mom handle the subject matter/language of your posts? I assume, like any mom, she reads all your stuff and would, under normal circumstances, forward it on without mercy to unsuspecting friends and family.
Everyone in my family knows what I write and where I write, but the subject matter is NEVER, ever discussed, which is how I like it. One Father's Day, my dad sidled up to me and said:
DAD: So am I a five-throwgasm dad or what?
ME: Dad, that's fucking disgusting. Don't use that word. Ever.
One of the things I hate most about ESPN's stupid NFL power rankings are the stupid, pithy comments that accompany each team's ranking. They put the most obvious, short-sighted bullshit stuff on there. AND THEN THEY GIVE EACH COMMENT A FUCKING BYLINE!
For example: "Three straight losses should have the Steelers concerned about their playoff chances" (Chadiha).
WOW, THANKS JEFFREY CHADIHA! WHAT MOTHERFUCKING INSIGHT YOU HAVE! YOU ARE TRULY AN NFL INSIDER!
They clearly need to set the edge!
What is the appropriate level of cleanliness for a plate that you're about to put in the dishwasher? I tend to completely rinse my dishes before putting them in the washer and almost always feel like a d-bag for doing so. But every time I leave a little smear of dried goodness on a plate a little bit ends up surviving the cleaning cycle. A follow up, if you suggest that I do some amount of plate cleaning before putting my dishes in the washer should I use a sponge or my personal favorite rinsing technique, the hot water erosion method?
You need a better dishwasher, but most decent ones can get that last little bit of crap off the plate. But yes, for plate rinsing, I also prefer the hot water erosion method, where you sit there for five minutes, wasting hundreds of gallons of water in hopes that the heat and water pressure will blast off the cheese and you don't actually have to wipe the plate with a sponge or brush. That's real work, and I don't like that.
What would yours smell like?
I think mine would be a combination of whiskey, Qdoba and laziness.
Poop, Yuengling, and salmon oil.
Do you get disappointed when you drop a big one, only you can't tell how big because it starts to snake its way down the toilet? You those mirror things SWAT teams use to look under cars and around corners? Someone needs to invent one of those to see how big turds are.
I do get annoyed when the front of the hole obscures the rest of the poop. You know what every toilet needs? It needs a water level measure on the side. Just little hash marks. That way, you'd know the volume of water displaced, the difference being the volume of your poop. Then you could keep trying to set personal bests.
You talk a lot about going to the bathroom but you never talk about washing your hands after.
When I'm out in public I notice some people are putting the soap directly onto their dry hands. Don't these people know that you don't get suds unless you wet your hands first? Where's the fun in that? You just got finished arching your stream for maximum bubbles in the toilet, it would make sense that you'd want to create a mighty lather in the sink. So Drew, are you a soap-on-dry-hands guy?
Also, I don't feel the need to wash my hands after I use the bathroom at home unless things get messy. I don't have anyone to impress there.
I never wash my hands after pissing in the middle of the night. But often, my wife, who I assume is dead asleep, will hear me NOT washing my hands and send back to wash them before getting back into bed. She even listens for the soap to be pumped. Women are skilled and evil creatures.
Why doesn't FOX run a fantasy ticker? CBS always runs one, and it's fucking great. All FOX gives you are the scores with no stats or anything. Fucking terrible.
Well then, there'd be no room for the robot! Can't have that.
Does your wife ask you to do things, or tell you? I tend to respond to women telling me what to do with the question "is that a demand or a question?". Needless to say, it never ends well.
Agreed. I don't like the "order phrased as a question." Hey Drew, would you like to do the dishes? Uh, no.
I had a boss once who phrased everything this way. One day, I finally snapped. She said, "Do you wanna file all this stuff?" I said, "Honestly? No." She stormed off in a huff. Hey, YOU ASKED.
A friend, who is a surgeon, told me that he once performed surgery on a patient who for unknown reasons, had an extra coil, of almost a foot, of large intestine. The man had been living with this his whole life, and finally decided the pain was too much to bear. The interesting this is that this man claimed that because of the pain shitting caused him, and the extra length of his bowel, he took one very massive shit only once every six weeks. He would literally block off 4-6 hours and just proceed to empty his entire colon into the toilet.
This fascinated me- it really captivated my friends and I for several weeks. We discussed the pros and cons of this constantly. Imagine if you could give up routine bowel movements for one massive endeavor once a month? "Hey Drew, you wanna watch the game at my place tomorrow? Nope, I can't. I gotta take my monthly dump, I'll be tied up all day". You could block off the day in Outlook and just set up shop with a TV, laptop and magazines in the bathroom. One of my friends went so far as to say that monthly dumps would have caused a different society. Why would we need toilets to be in restaurants and bars when they would be used only once every month?
He proposed a culture of urinals for women, similar to what female astronauts use. Another friend chimed in with the perils of not being able to foresee when your next dump would come. Imagine going to a football game, and a massive dump sneaks up on you during the 2nd quarter? By the time you would be complete, not only would the game be over, the stadium would be completely empty and all your buddies would be gone. Thus the question is for you to answer- Daily (or thrice daily) dumps or once massive poop a month? I propose a series of town hall debates to further discuss the merits of each.
I like regular, daily pooping. Otherwise, bathroom books would become obsolete and everyone would start reading novels. That would be horrible.
Finally, to end our day, a letter from a prison guard.
After grad school and working a couple of years in minor league sports, I decided it was time to get a "real" job (one that paid me enough to live on and had actual benefits like insurance and a retirement plans). I became employed at a state prison as a Recreation Specialist. My job was essentially part-gym teacher and part-prison guard. We supervised open gym and other recreational activities for maximum-security inmates, including officiating athletic contests. We developed a slow-pitch softball league where each of the four Rec Specialists would pick a team of inmates and coach and play on the team with them. The inmates actually liked the experience and we all exchanged good-natured heckling.
Half of the inmates in this prison were serving life sentences. And "life" means life, as there is no parole for these offenders. My third basemen was serving life for murder and I often played dominoes with him. My shortstop was a compact prisoner from another state serving life for a heinous child rape/murder. As a prison employee, you have to always be cognizant of the pasts of these guys, yet treat them all as if they're equal. Anyway, my days off were Wednesday and Thursday and I happened to be getting gas at convenience store and noticed the afternoon had a picture of my shortstop under the headline "Inmate Stabbed to Death in Prison Dining Hall". Upon further reading of the article, I discovered that the killer was my third baseman, who committed the act for $10,000 from a gang in another state. He served about 18 months in solitary confinement and was given a second life sentence. But I faced a dilemma that few, if any, coaches had ever faced: I needed to replace the whole left side of my infield due to murder.
That is awesome.