Oooh, time for my sack full of goodies! Your letters:
How many US presidents to you believe have had anal? I would go with the current Commander in Chief and Bill Clinton (although not with Hillary). Beyond that I cannot come up with another – Chester A. Arthur?
All of them. They've all done it. You think Bush Jr. didn't spend his entire 20s and 30's snorting coke and cornholing every Texas debutante in sight? Of course he did.
Every President has had anal. I bet it's even part of the vetting process. Anal sex is about power. Guys don't have anal sex necessarily because it feels better than regular sex ("Jeez, I feel like I just stuck my dick in a jar of whole grain mustard!"). They have it because they want to be able to say they had it. It's an ego thing. And who has the biggest ego in the world? The President. You don't become President without having a massively inflated sense of self-entitlement. Even Jimmy Carter has had anal. I bet he was on his pecan farm one day and told his wife to bend over and then made some brown hay. Presidents are power thirsty human beings, which means regular sex isn't going to do it for them. They need the rush of extreme sexual deviancy. I bet Taft was into pooping on people. Look at the guy. How could he not be?
I'm completely fascinated by the sexual and excretory habits of Presidents and people who occupy seemingly noble positions in the grand scheme of things. We've talked about Presidents jerking off here before, but there's so much more to know. What does the President's shitter look like? Does his TP have the seal on it? Can he use a towel to wipe himself if he damn well pleases? What do you do if you're President and you put a growler in the toilet and it won't flush? Who do you call? How many Presidents have had herpes besides Kennedy, who must have been loaded with it? I'm totally obsessed.
Who is the most masturbated to woman in history? I mean, with Baywatch's international success, it has to be Pamela Anderson right? There are probably 50,000 12-year-olds in Moldova that are just finding out about her and have rug burn on their dicks.
I think it's Marilyn Monroe. We live in the Golden Age of Masturbation, where you have millions of naked women available to you at the mere stroke of a keyboard. But when I grew up, spank banks were limited to nudie mags, Kelly Bundy, chicks who wore miniskirts on "Studs," and any woman you came into contact with live in person. So I can only imagine how even more greatly reduced that spank bank would be if you grew up in the 50's, before porn films and all that. Monroe arrived at the exact right time, just as media was proliferating (so everyone in the world knew who she was) but before porno movies and the internet served to expand the collective spank bank beyond infinity. Shit, even I've masturbated to Marilyn Monroe, and she died 14 years before I was born. She was old enough to be my grandma. Kinda creepy, when you think about it. But I stroked it all the same. NOW THAT IS A MASTURBATORY ICON.
We live in the Kansas City area, so my brother's teams are the Chiefs, Royals, and Kansas Jayhawks. No problem there (well, rooting for the Royals is always a problem, but that's a story for another time). But here's the douchey part: His favorite athletes are Kobe Bryant, Derek Jeter, and Tom Brady. He considers the Lakers one of his teams, and he roots for the Yankees and Patriots during the playoffs.
Now, I love my brother (who is 20 years old), but I think that his decision to root for Kobe, Jeter, and Brady is almost enough to kick him out of the family.
I don't understand how your favorite football team can be the Chiefs while your favorite athlete is someone who plays on a different team. That's stupid. If you're 20 years old, you shouldn't even have a designated favorite athlete anymore. You should have your favorite team and maybe some guys you like on it and a jersey you buy. You know how stupid you sound if you tell people Tom Brady is your "Favorite Athlete"? That's for fucking 8-year-olds and ESPY executives. Does he have a Brady Fathead on his wall and collect all his magazine covers? Again, that is for little children.
Furthermore, while everyone is allowed to have a second team they kind of like when the home team isn't playing (mine was Cleveland for a long time), that second team can't be the fucking Yankees or Patriots. It can't be some dynasty. And it certainly can't be some team that's in your team's own conference (as the Chiefs and Patriots are). Your brother is a freeloader and a terrible person and now that's a matter of public record.
If I may put on my Jezebel hat and complimentary chastity tube for just a second, wouldn't it make more sense to compare crazy athletes to crazy MEN? Why not compare them to crazy boyfriends, who start off all nice and sweet, then become possessive, then abusive, but the girlfriend forgives them because he didn't mean to hit her, everyone tells her to dump him, she does, takes him back, he breaks her ribs after throwing her down the steps, she finally gets rid of him, he kills her. I'm guessing that's a bit more common.
I suppose domestic abuse isn't as funny as the Crazy Chick, although I'm convinced guys who write about this theoretical person - say, Whitlock and Simmons - have never really experienced that but have fantasized about it. Or, in Whitlock's case, he pictures Beyonce becoming the Crazy Girl.
For example, if Sally Jenkins wrote that Albert Haynesworth was like that "crazy boyfriend we've all had, who's threatened to kill us, but he's got such a big dick we stay with him," I'm guessing it wouldn't go over real well.
True, but oh, what I would give for Sally Jenkins to write about Haynesworth having an irresistible big dick. That would make my year. HOTTEST COLUMN EVER.
My girlfriend refuses to believe that you should finish spaghetti in the pan with the sauce.
Then tell her to go back to her job doling out chili mac at the school cafeteria. I bet she rinses the spaghetti in cold water too, LIKE A FUCKING BARBARIAN.
Would you be willing to drive a school bus as your only means of transportation if it never broke down and you never had to fill it with gas? I say no. Parking it would be a nightmare, I'm certain I would end up killing someone, and I would get sick of explaining the "don't worry about it, it never runs out of gas or breaks down" story.
You're crazy. A magic school bus that never needs gassing? Sign my ass up. I'd pay $10,000 for it. Then I'd paint a demon on the side of it and let people know this is not a bus to be fucked with. I'd also stop at railroad crossings and open my door for no reason, just like real school buses do. I know there's a good reason for it, I just happened to forget it.
Also, I would keep the door open and the STOP sign sticking out ALL THE TIME. Even on the freeway. No one would dare pass me for fear of getting written up. Also, I could put the car seats for my children all the way in the back of the bus, which would allow me to listen to the radio for once without hearing them bitch about it, because they'd be so far away.
I remember when I was a kid thinking that getting the wheel well seat on the school bus was cool. I was thoroughly misguided.
So I got married in the Spring of 2009. About 6 months in I knew (and she knows too) that this isn't going to work out long-term. If we didn't have some big ass wedding with everyone we know involved and didn't basically bankrupt the parents for that one stupid night, I think we would both be out by now. What is the acceptable time frame for a divorce without being a laughingstock and for proving to your parents that you gave it a real shot and it just doesn't work? I don't want my mom to hate me for 10 years. This is why big weddings fucking suck, they force you to stay married.
Well, I've never been divorced (fingers crossed!), so I'm not sure what the exact etiquette is. If you're looking to avoid scorn, I assume you have to put in at least a year before formerly filing for your dissolution. You may even need to spring for one of those couple's therapists, which would be great fun. At six months, it feels like you should have known well before you married your wife that you shouldn't have married her. If you get divorced before the year is up, you'll almost certainly be a laughingstock. HOWEVER, as someone who has been married for eight years, I must say that I depend on horrible marriages like your own to boost my self-esteem. There is nothing married people enjoy more than the collective dysfunction of couples and families around them. It gives me such a warm, smug feeling. It's all I have left, really. So kudos to you divorced people out there who don't even bother to stick it out for year. You're doing the Lord's work!
Patrick & Jason:
Would you take being fairly rich (trust fund rich), but in exchange you had to wear Affliction and Ed Hardy clothing all the time? You have to look yourself in the mirror everyday while blidning yourself with sequined crosses and colorful dragons.
At first glance we both said, sure, take the money. But on second thought, it would be really hard to be that douchey all the time, and be totally conscious of it. To hate what you wore everyday, to know that people looked at you and laughed, and most normal girls would want nothing to do with you.
If most normal girls knew you were rich, I'm pretty sure they'd overlook the Affliction shirt and come leaping into your arms at a moment's notice. I would take the money, and then I would actively try and make wearing Affliction shirts an ironic hipster thing to do, even though that idea A) Would fail and B) Would make me even worse than someone who wore an Affliction shirt out of sincerity.
Either way, the money would rule the day. I'd wear a suit made of gelatinized urine if it meant I could be a fucking millionaire. Trust me, the older you get, the more money life seems to suck out of you. Money is important.
Whenever I watch a TV show on DVD, that instant when the show reaches what was a commercial break, fades out, and then back in again, with no ads, is the greatest fucking moment of the day. It gives me a little boner every time.
The polar opposite of that is when you're used to watching a show on DVD and then change over to watching it on television. I did this with "Mad Men," the first three seasons of which I watched on DVD. Then we watched it weekly starting in Season 4 and I became visibly upset when the ads came on. "What? Ads? HOW DARE THEY?" And then the show would be over and I couldn't automatically watch three more episodes if I felt like it. AND AMC IS STILL NOT IN HI-DEF ON DIRECTV! WHY MUST I LIVE LIKE AN ANIMAL? Watching a full run of a TV show on DVD is intoxicating.
Why is it so enjoyable to be the bearer of bad news? I am a lawyer and another lawyer in my hometown who known for carrying two six-shooters was shot and killed by the cops this week. I couldn't wait to spread this joyous news to every lawyer in my office and every other lawyer I know.
Is this normal, or am I just an abnormal dickhead?
Well, you are a lawyer. But no, I too enjoy surprising people with horrible news if that news doesn't happen to affect me personally in any way shape or form. For example, if someone were to nuke Sweden, I would immediately call everyone I know to let them know that I know that Sweden just got BORKED back into the Stone Age. You couldn't tear me away from that phone. "Mom? Did you hear? IKEA IS GOING DOWN." This also happens any time an extremely famous person dies. Like when Michael Jackson died, I was on the phone immediately to everyone I knew. And if got someone who didn't know the news yet? SCORE. I got to be the one with the scoop. Thrilling, really.
I called my Dad as 9/11 was happening. He didn't know it was going on, so he got the word from me. I lived in Manhattan at the time, and it was a horrible, awful thing to experience and be so close to. But secretly, I got a small, inappropriate thrill from being able to break the news to someone. I hate myself for that.
Found in Philly.
HOLY SHIT! TITO JACKSON DIED!
/calls Dad to let him know the news
Last week, an old friend of mine was shot while some street thugs attempted to mug him. He was wounded, but overall is OK and recovering. We don't talk all that often anymore, but we are in a fantasy football league together.
The thing is, he was shot on Saturday and he was set to be my opponent in our fantasy football league the next day. Now I've never known anyone that's been shot before, so I wasn't sure what proper etiquette would be. I assume he couldn't set his lineup from his hospital bed, so in an act of kindness/fairness I thought about pulling my starters and putting in all my terrible bench scrubs so he could get an easy FF win that week and at least have something to feel good about. When it came to kickoff time on Sunday, I decided against it, put my starters back in, and summarily crushed him without mercy.
Am I a terrible person?
To be fair, we were both the last unbeaten teams in the league at the time and I don't think I've ever made it to 5-0 before. Until now.
No, you shouldn't feel bad. Consider this: If Tom Coughlin were shot and killed on a Saturday, don't you think the NFL would still make the Giants play the next day? I'm not saying Katie Bakes is gonna do something irrational, but I wouldn't put it past her.
Anyway, you should not feel bad about beating his shot ass in fantasy the day after he's been hospitalized. The show goes on. You're just trying to help him regain a sense of normalcy by shitting all over him.
We received this one page resume/job application this week. Needless to say it stood out from the rest. Names have been removed to protect the innocent/stupid.
The man was an X bull rider. Gotta respect that.
A good friend of mine in high school's family owned a Taco Bell. He always kept boxes of Taco Bell food in their garage so we could make nachos and shit while we were drunk. This was all great until one day when I went into the freezer to get a box of "beef" and saw that the box was marked GRADE D BUT EDIBLE. I wouldn't feed that shit to a rabid stray Mexican dog, but it's delicious.
Did you really expect anything different?
This brings up a good question: If you owned a fast food franchise that would allow you unlimited access to its menu, which restaurant would you buy? At first, I was thinking that I would pick Chick-fil-A, because Chick-fil-A is very good and I could eat it daily without getting sick of it (though it would make me fatter than death). But then I thought about it, and the more I realized that I would want them to own a fast food place that is overpriced and parsimonious with its portions. Like Cosi. You go to a Cosi, and the fuckers give you one scoop of buffalo chicken in your sandwich for eight bucks. THEY ARE FUCKERS. I'd give anything to waltz into a Cosi my folks owned, grab the scoop, and start eating the chicken right out of the fucking hotel pan in full view of the customers. Nothing would make me feel more powerful, because I am a very small man. Same with Chipotle. I'd give anything to waltz behind a Chipotle counter and compose my burrito EXACTLY as I see fit. I'd go mad with burrito power. Any place where portion control and meat ratios are controlled by another person is in my target zone.
My dad used to work in the airline business, and as such we were often able to fly for free as a family (but often on standby, which is an intensely nerve-racking experience. It's like betting on a football game that you aren't allowed to actually watch). Anyway, as I've grown up, I've wondered if free flying is the absolute best employee perk one could get depending upon where they worked. I think it's up there. If you work at a bank, they don't give you free money. If you work for a health insurer, they don't give you free coverage (because they are cunts). If you have a great employee perk you were the beneficiary of, let me know. Someone out there had to be the son of a jet ski dealer or something.
Finally, your email of the week comes from John. It's a GREAT MOMENT IN POOP HISTORY. And it has a Christmas theme. Very crucial.
I've always have digestive issues. When I was kid, I was a pussy, so they told me it was "Nervous Stomach" or something like that. Well it's probably just IBS or colitis or something wacky. Who knows. Anyway, it's Christmas Day 2004 and I'm spending the day with my family at my aunt's house. I mentioned I'm a pussy before, so obviously I'm allergic to cats which she has three of these pointless animals. So I take some insane allergy medicine. What do you know, I'm allergic to the allergy medicine and it gives me ridiculous amounts of anal burning diarrhea. So I hit the toilet at my aunts about 2-3 times, and I'm ready to leave. I have to wait until the diarrhea is over, so I shit 1-2 more times. Okay, it must be done now. Diarrhea has a cap of like 5, doesn't it? Well apparently my math was off. I'm driving along, not two miles from her house and the feeling hits. Oh no. I'm squeezing, basically standing up in the drivers seat as I drive. I see a gas station, oh thank god. It's about to blow. I race into the bathroom and in my infinite wisdom I think it will be faster to get my jeans and underwear down if I just start yanking them down without undoing the belt, button, and fly. I'm squeezing these pants down but at the same time, the tightness is forcing my ass cheeks together, and I'm bending over to get them down… Well the little bit of effort I put into this motion made my bowels think that was the go signal. Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat…. Like a tommy gun my asshole exploded with liquid and baby food-style shit all over the walls, floor, bowl, and sink. It was a fucking massacre. I immediately sit on the bowl and of course, there's nothing left. Amazingly, nothing was in my pants at all. I did the best I could with wiping my ass, trust me when it's splattered, it's not an easy clean up. I looked around, shocked at my work, and left the bathroom. I went to the clerk, bought a roll of toilet paper, and left. When you walk into a public bathroom and you see shit fucking everywhere but the toilet and you wonder, "How the hell does something like this happen?" Well, I know.
And we are all the richer for it.