Time for your Thursday edition of the Deadspin Funbag. Find more of Drew's stuff at KSK or on Twitter. Today, we're covering self gratification, popsicles, photo shoots, muscle chicks, pens, and more.
No time to waste. Let's get right to your letters:
What's the ideal thing to jerk off into? I'm a paper towel guy. Not as weak as tissues and bigger than a napkin. One Brawny sheet and I'm done.
Are we talking truly ideal for wiping only? Disposal is not an issue? Because if disposal wasn't an issue, I'd use a cat. Or a Parisian silk scarf. Or a fur coat. I saw a mink coat in a store once. I wanted to dry hump it with everything I had.
I'm not sure what Michael here means by "jerk off into." Does he hold the paper towel wad in front of his dick and then shoot into it? Because I don't do that. I finish into the toilet or onto Mr. Belly, Kennedy style. Then I clean up. Is that wrong? Have I been finishing all wrong for the past 22 years? Because if painting my own tummy is wrong, I don't wanna be right. It fertilizes my majestic patch of belly hair, I tell you!
Anyway, in the real world, where disposal is an issue and laundering socks is a cruel reality for many of us, the correct wiping material is a baby wipe. Cool, cleaning, refreshing. Almost as good as the orgasm itself.
Eating the last bite of a Popsicle (or any frozen treat on a stick for that matter) is absolutely miserable. The last bite is always in the dead center of the stick, and you are faced with three consumption options, each equally unappealing. You can put the whole stick in your mouth, thus getting the woody-grainy-terribleness that is a soggy popsicle stick run up your front teeth. You can turn the stick upside-down, thus giving you less (and non-soggy) stick to cover when going for the last bite, but this leaves your hands quite sticky. Or you can attempt to eat the last bite by turning the stick sideways, which makes one of your hands sticky while also leaving open the very real possibility of a good part of your bite tragically falling to the floor. Bottom line, when it comes to the last bite of a frozen desert on a stick, nobody is a winner.
Sir, you couldn't be more correct. Trying to tackle that last bite head on is terrible, because you have to insert the popsicle stick far enough into your mouth to induce a gag reflex. I feel like I'm blowing a very, very poorly endowed man. Unpleasant.
HOWEVER, certain popsicles will give way on the stick after a while. In other words, the popsicle will melt to the point where it can easily slip up and down the stick as you please. Sometimes, I like to tip the stick and watch the ice slide down, then turn it back up right at the last second. TASTES LIKE DANGER.
You can do the sideways bite without grabbing the wet end of the stick, provided you turn your head to get at it. The problem is that you have to get all of that final nugget, pulling it through the stick with your teeth. Otherwise, you take a bite out of it and the support truss is gone and the final bite falls to the ground. This is why Push Ups are so nice.
Certain chocolate covered ice cream bars have a Peter Kingian good nugget of chocolate formed at the bottom. This is often difficult to get off the stick cleanly. Which is annoying, because it's the best part. Sometimes, I only get some of the chocolate off, and then I have to lick the fuck out of the stick to clean the rest of the chocolate off. Ever have a big piece of the chocolate shell flake off and fall to the ground? That is fucking horrible. SUMMER IS RUINED. I also strongly dislike Italian ice that comes in a triangle packet. All the icy syrup goes to the bottom and you have to suck that thing like you're J. Edgar Hoover to get it out from the crease.
Ever bite down on a popsicle and get pain shooting through your tooth? That's fun. I may need to see a dentist.
So my friend just sent me this link, telling me it was the first time he'd ever seen a girl with a six pack that was actually sexy, I said bullshit and couldn't have been more wrong. I have so many questions, is this a real person or some kind of Eastern European robot? Where is this being filmed, is she being held hostage and forced to make these videos? If somehow I showed up to save her would she even talk to me or just kick my ass? Oh, and when I first watched this I thought that one leg squat didn't look that hard, I guess I'm an idiot because I couldn't have been more wrong, as soon as I stood my fat ass out of my chair I realized the incredible difficulty...I think I'm in love
Yep, she's not unattractive. Are we sure that's not the intro to an Action Girls video? Doesn't she stick a shotgun shell in her cooch five minutes after that video ends? There are guys who goes bonkers for that kind of thing.
I don't mind a little muscle on my ladies. Do I look at the five-page microbikini spread included in every issue of Musclemag each month? Uh… it's possible. My wife once found an issue of American Curves in my closet. She was NOT pleased. I've gone to Barnes and Noble or the Hudson News at the airport, made sure no one was looking, and then immediately perused any nearby issue of Smooth for pictures of Ice T's old lady. AW YEAH GIGANTIC ASSES. In fact, it's impossible to go to any newsstand and NOT flip through as many softcore Esquire and Maxim pictorials as humanly possible. Where's that Amanda Bynes spread? Page 78? Where's page 78? These pages have no numbers! WHY DO THEY MAKE IT SO HARD?!
I bought a desk fan at Target this morning, brought it to work, and within 30 minutes I had taken the front cover off and started throwing gummi bears in there. I'm 25. This is possibly all the work I'm going to do today. Is it my fault the economy sucks and I can't find a better job? Or should I accept that this might be the American Dream?
I like the creativity and innovation you showed there, good sir. In the hands of an average man, it's just a desk fan. In your hands, it became a gummi bear jet engine of death. I like it. Now I implore you to stick your tongue in the fan and smush a gummi bear down until you can tell everyone it's a gummi Buddha. That's just what corporate America needs from today's white-collar worker.
I love weak fans. I could stick my finger in them all day long. Or just graze my finger alongside it so it goes THWAP THWAP THWAP THWAP THWAP. Good stuff.
(NOTE: One of the great standard movie deaths is a villain being sucked into a jet engine or turbine or some kind of giant fan that acts as a human Cuisinart. There's just a certain onscreen chemistry that propellers and blood have that you can't find in any other death scene. It's so quick and violent. I can never get enough.)
Do you ever take apart a pen when you are bored at work? I like to pretend like I'm reassembling a gun like Forrest Gump during basic training. When I finish I keep expecting my boss to act like a drill sergeant and give me some backhanded praise but it never comes. Maybe I'm not cut out for Vietnam.
I was a fan of doing this all through school. I took apart pens and put them back together. I took apart mechanical pencils. I'd see how much lead I could stick out of the mechicial pencil and still write without the lead snapping. Lead pencils are great.
TRUE STORY: In 8th grade, I accidentally ingested pencil lead and then went to the school's vice principal because I thought I was going to get lead poisoning. I did not get good grades in 8th grade.
We had big pink erasers then, and I'd stab the erasers with my pen constantly. I had big ugly Brooks sneakers (Glen Plake approved!) and I'd dig my pen into the sole and pretend I was stabbing a dragon in the heart. I'd sharpen my pencil in a little plastic pencil sharpener and then smell the shavings. They smelled horrible. I cannot tell you how much class bored me as a kid. It's a whole other level of boredom. Your heart stops for minutes at a time. I used to stick my pencil in the holes of my note pad and work that shit around like I was trying to hollow out Christina Hendricks. Kids get innovative when Senor Trafton the Spanish teacher won't shut the fuck up.
Is there anything worse than trying to rub one out while on cold medication? I just got over a wicked cold and was on Sudafed for almost a week. While in bed everyday I had no choice but to pleasure myself - let's face it, there's only so much daytime television one can watch before going insane. Each time my soldier got to around 50-75% full attention but was also quite numb from the meds. I powered through each session only to realize at the end of every one that the climax was mediocre with very little sensation. I really believe we need to take this matter to the drug companies and demand a cold medication that doesn't affect cum sensation.
Sometimes, it's not even a side effect of taking cold medication. There are times when I've gone to help myself to myself and my dick does the whole "Let's just skip the boner and go right to spitting cobra venom part" routine. It's an odd sensation. On the one hand, I feel triumphant because I was able to get so much out of so little. I DON'T EVEN NEED AN ERECTION! But the flipside of that is, well if my dick doesn't need a boner to orgasm, will it ever feel the need to get hard again? And that's a terrible feeling to have, particularly when having actual sex with another human being. God dammit, I'm clearly turned on and I can't get it up. SHIT! Lemme just try stuffing it in anyway. THIS CAN WORK!
Every time I see some the results of some sort of fancy-ass photo shoot, like the ones they use to make the photos for the bumpers on SNL or for the cover of Esquire, I imagine what my photo shoot would look like. You worked in advertising so I'm sure this must have happened to you.
I always imagine that my photos are funny, but in a self-depreciating way that makes me likable while still maintaining my quirky and sometimes surreal sense of humor (because that's why I'm fake famous, see). Like me dressed in an Armani suit with waterwings, standing in a bathtub, and reading a copy of The Economist while purple Kool-Aid rains down on me from a watering can. Or, wearing an expensive cardigan with my face twisted into a look of quizzical exasperation while I have my arms raised at my side like I'm saying, "Why not?".
Fake famous me is fucking glamorous.
I'll tell you the ones that always get me. It's whenever Entertainment Weekly covers the Sundance film festival or ShoWest convention, and they take group shots of all these stars who were hanging out to promote their movie. And they look like they're having a fucking BLAST. Look, it's Robert Downey Jr. and Javier Bardem and Laura Linney and director Kenneth Lonergan! In town to promote their movie ALL THE GANG! And they're all wearing casual winter outfits and laughing! Meanwhile, I'm stuck at home with my thumb up my butt. FUCKERS.
I have three friends who have tried acting for a living. All of them hired a photographer to take headshots. People, I strongly advise you to befriend an actor specifically so you can give them shit for their head shots. It's the most fun you'll ever have in the world of male-on-male shitgiving. One friend was biting his lapel. I died laughing. GRRRR I'M LIKE A TIGER!!! RAWR! One of them wore a full length fur coat. Looking good, JaMarcus!
Anyway, I always picture myself as part of some elaborate Annie Leibovitz photo shoot. Sometimes, as Dan said, it's very playful. Other times, I'm wearing a black winter coat and staring out into an empty riverbed. The headlines write themselves: DREW MAGARY HAS A LOT ON HIS MIND. DREW MAGARY IS DONE PLAYING AROUND. DREW MAGARY IS AN INCREDIBLE QUEER.
I was gonna hire a photographer to do a publicity still for "Men With Balls." The publisher gave me money to do it. Instead, I pocketed the money and had my brother in law snap a picture of me. You can find that photo by doing a simple Google search. Was it worth saving money to look like someone who has a runaway teenage dwarf tied up naked in his basement? YOU BET! The next book, I'm definitely sitting in some kind of study while smoking a pipe.
I just put on a polo and my right sleeve is much tighter on my arm than my left sleeve. I work out, but I do everything evenly. Could my right arm be bigger from jerking off?
No. It just means you bought that shirt at a Marshall's.
How horrifying are the 1 or 2 days per year when you're sitting at work, doing your normal routine, when you realize ... holy shit, I didn't put on any deodorant this morning?
As a natural sweater despite the heat, I instantly freak out and find discreet ways to sniff my arm pits every 45 seconds for the next 8 hours. Please tell me I'm not the only idiot that does this.
I forget once in a while. It's horrifying, and yet the scent is irresistible. It's so awful. It feels so wrong to have BO. But smelling it is almost like an occasional treat. I should probably stop talking now.
Because I work from home now, I now routinely have days where I forget to shower, period. This always makes me happy, because I love showering and so remembering in the middle of the day gives me a chance for SHOWER BREAK. It's like a second, bonus shower to go with the first one, which I never took but kinda feel like I did. WOOHOO PHANTOM BONUS SHOWER!
It's pretty much a guarantee that if you go to a televised sporting event and have a sign that spells out the networks name in some lame message that you will be shown on TV for a good 5 seconds. Now my question to you is, would you do it? I think those people are pricks, but they were just seen by 100 million people all over the world and they all know you're at the Super Bowl with nacho cheese all over your face.
I don't think I'd do it. I'm too lazy to make a sign. There's no denying that being on TV would be crazy fun. LOOK MA I'M ON THE TEEVEE! But you gotta buy posterboard and markers and shit. It's like a school fair assignment. I hated school fair assignments.
When I was a kid, I went to a WWF wrestling match in Minneapolis and brought a sign with me. I think I wrote GO HULKSTER or something on it. I wrote in yellow highlighter. You couldn't read it from three inches away. Don't use yellow highlighter if you want people to read your sign.
Dreadlocks: awesome or disgusting? Is it dependent on race?
Sure is! Would you date that dreadlocks chick from American Idol? If you're a white person with dreads, you look like the lead singer of Big Mountain.
You never see Chinese guys with dreadlocks. That would be amusing.
Finally, another GREAT MOMENT IN POOP HISTORY. Reader James sends in this story I call ON POOPIN' POND
I was on a business trip in Concord, Massachusetts this fall and had an hour or two to kill, so i went for a walk around Walden Pond. I was about halfway around the pond, when my lunch slid through my intestines like a Mexican on a waterslide. I decided to hurry my pace and hit up some gas station restroom or something. The thought of a tight space with four walls drenched in urine and chemicals brought about what I think to be one of my most brilliant ideas.
I loosened my tie, climbed a hill, found a nice spot with a view, and took a dump in the middle of the autumn woods, overlooking Thoreau's inspiration in nature (luckily I had a some napkins in my pocket). I can't decide if Thoreau would have appreciated my rejection of civilization, or if he would been annoyed that I shat all over his sacred pond. If he was pissed while he looked down on me, doesn't he deserve to get bitchslapped?
You bet he does, my man.