Time for your weekly edition of the Deadspin Funbag. Find more of Drew's stuff at KSK or on Twitter. Buy Drew's book, The Postmortal, through here. Email the Funbag here. Today, we're covering mauling deaths, banana salad, immortal quarterbacks, and more.
You're gonna want to be around on these here Interwebs tomorrow, for something is going to happen that will be monumental in its utter triviality. I promise you, you will TOTALLY be disappointed. In the meantime ... your letters:
What sport has the most racists?
Of the major American sports, I think it's baseball because as we've noted here before, baseball is the sport that has the most assholes, so it stands to reason that the sport with the most assholes would then have the most racists, because racists are assholes. Baseball also has a Latino player base much larger than that of basketball or football, and there have been more than a few instances of culture clash between Latino baseball players and their English-speaking counterparts. So that could serve to exacerbate the RAYCESSM.
(NOTE: I chose baseball strictly from the standpoint of racist players. When it comes to racist fans, even I acknowledge that football is top dog. Please consult the comment section at PFT if you need further evidence.)
When it comes to all sports, my first guess was gonna be lacrosse because, you know, it's lacrosse. But Craggs rightly pointed out that the sport with the most racists in the world, player or fan, sheer numbers or per capita, is soccer. Soccer is practically a form of organized racism at this point. They still throw bananas at black players and stuff. It's terrible. So please note that the next time a soccer fanatic tries to push their the Beautiful Game upon you. They're essentially endorsing Racial Holy War and you can't tell me any different.
My biggest fear is being eaten alive and I often ponder which animal would be the worst be mauled by. I narrowed the list to the following:
-Great White Shark
-Polar / Grizzly Bear - I picture the scene from The Edge and just cringe
-Mountain Lion / Any Big Cat
-Those killer pigs that Mason raises in Hannibal
The scene from The Edge still sticks out. The bear doesn't appear to go for the kill and instead just rips off the dude's leg. What are your thoughts?
I should probably rent that movie. Obviously, what you're looking for here is a QUICK death. You don't want an animal that going to leave you alive and then come back once an hour for the occasional nibble while you writhe in agony. Animals like the Great White and the crocodile and the bear could conceivably kill you quickly, with just one bite or one swipe to the carotid artery. But there's also the potential that, as you said, one attack won't finish you off. Instead, you'll be mauled and then left to suffer before the animal finally decides to eat the rest of you. That could be the case with pretty much every creature you've listed, save for perhaps the piranha.
There is one animal you don't have on your list that deserves a mention: DOGS. I know two people who have been attacked by pit bulls, and the thing about pit bulls is that they ALWAYS go for the face. They don't start off biting you on the elbow or something like that. No, no. They have to be DICKS and leap right for your eyes. This is why all pit bulls need to be rounded up and euthanized. There's also the added feeling of betrayal you get from being attacked from man's best friend. I expect a shark to want to kill me. But Sweet Jasmine? I NEVER EXPECTED THIS KIND OF BEHAVIOR FROM YOU.
You've also left out the entire insect kingdom, which cannot maul you alive but can eat you alive. Take, for example, the African tumbu fly, which makes babies inside your body and leaves those babies to eat their way out of you.
Out of the—now larger—hole popped what appeared to be a small maggot, accompanied by the now familiar wave of pain. I widened my eyes in horror.
I bet you did. There's also the African driver ant, which can eat you if you happen to be lying immobilized:
Their bite is severely painful, each soldier leaving two puncture wounds when removed. Removal is difficult, however, as their jaws are extremely strong, and one can pull a soldier ant in two without it releasing its hold. Large numbers of ants can kill small or immobilized animals and eat the flesh.
So yeah, never go to Africa.
Saw this on the beach. With little fanfare.
I like that he put "Juice" on there, as if OJ needed further explanation. Oh right, OJ! That guy!
The other day I was signing in to Toyota's website to pay my bill, and it asked me the usual security question - "What is the name of your childhood best friend?" My answer is a person I haven't spoken to in at least two decades, and yet she lives on in my life as a means of securing my online transactions. This made me wonder: Am I this person's, or somebody else's, security question answer? I could try to sign in to her online banking by answering her question with my name, but it would be kind of awkward to find out that she doesn't think we were best friends.
That's such a loaded question for you to choose for your security question, because ranking friends at that age is so important. I have a kid in kindergarten and she adjusts her friend rankings on a daily basis. It's a big fucking deal when you jump from someone's third best friend to their second. You're just one away from the official BFF title. It's the kid's version of being promoted at work. In a way, it's still important. I'd be crushed if I learned that my best friend from elementary school, David, didn't think likewise of me way back when. That would cast my entire childhood in doubt. Maybe he never liked me. Maybe we spent all those hours together playing MegaMan because he was trying to get at my piggy bank. Or maybe he was gay for me.
People have railed against the uselessness of security questions for a while now. Check out this Slate article, which is extra Slatey because its author is lactose intolerant. In the future, we'll be spared questions about our first dog or our mom's maiden name, because every mouse will come with a fingerprint identifier that will automatically prove that you are who you say you are. Then Google will take your fingerprint and use it to frame you for the murder of a Russian teenage bride. I can't wait.
My brother snapped this picture at Opening Day. He's at the kids urinal. Do you think he lucked out and that came up next or did he wait it out for that particular one?
I think he lucked out. Check his ass height relative to the grownup urinal two slots over. He could lip that one out. Might be rough sledding, but he could definitely manage it.
I have a three-year-old, and I've assisted him at any number of public urinals and toilets, many of which are hard for his to reach with his little dinger. One time, I had to hold him in mid-air while he sprayed into the toilet. It was NOT a perfectly executed mission. Pissing ain't easy for the little people of the world.
I live in Phoenix, and my friends were jealous of the fact that we have In-N-Out, Chick-Fil-A, Waffle House, Five Guys, Fatburger, Jack in the Box, etc. I never thought about it before, but I guess a lot of eastern/southern/midwestern chains have their westernmost outlets here, and the California chains have their easternmost outlets here as well. It's a special crossroads for fatasses. What state do you think has the best combination of region-specific fast foods?
That's a tough combination to beat, even if it doesn't justify moving to Phoenix (I've been to Phoenix and it's boring as shit). In DC we have Bojangles, CFA, Jimmy John's, Shake Shack, Five Guys, Moby Dick, and The Burger Joint. But we don't have In 'N' Out, and of course we don't have the immortal Cook Out. Any city you go to is probably going to lack at least one of the crucial cult fast food places. But don't worry. Thanks to capitalism, most of these franchises will expand and expand and expand some more until they've reached your town but have made so many compromises with their ingredients and cooking process that you'll find their food hideously overrated. Take it from someone who had a Shake Shack burger at Nationals Park. It ain't worth waiting an hour in line for.
Say you are given the power to establish your child's intelligence and attractiveness on a 1 through 10 scale. For intelligence, 10 would be very smart, although not necessarily genius level. 1 would not be mentally retarded, but definitely quite dim. For attractiveness, 10 would be strikingly attractive, to the point where your child would be at a distinct advantage in mate choice and professionally as an adult. 1 would not be deformed, but definitely noticeably ugly. You have 12 total points to distribute to your child. How do you allocate these resources to give your child the best chance of happiness and success in life? Would you go 10 looks and 2 smarts? 10 smarts and 2 looks? 6 and 6? Some combination of 7 and 5? Do you allocate differently based on whether you have a son or a daughter?
Well, my kids will always be beautiful TO ME, so I may as well load up on the intelligence points. And no one wants children who are too attractive because attractive boys become assholes and attractive girls get stalked and murdered. No, thank you. Best to give the child a 4 or 5 in the looks department in order to boost their intellect. You can even dip down to a 3 for the boy because if he's crazy smart then he'll be crazy rich and be able to land a decent looking woman anyway.
But what of Dexterity? And Constitution? I would definitely want my kid to have a D&D Constitution of 18 or better.
/rolls 20-sided die
When I pushed a co-worker of mine who hates bananas to explain the origins of her banana hate, she explained to me that as a child her parents fed her "banana salad." What's in a banana salad you ask? Well it's quite simple actually: just bananas and mayo. I told her that her parents should have been jailed for the concoction. Is she justified in hating bananas from now until the end of time?
Yes. That's fucking horrible. Who does that to a child? That's Flowers in the Attic-level abuse. These mayonnaise people, THEY MUST BE STOPPED. They put mayonnaise in our burgers and our sandwiches and our crabcakes AND NOW THEY WANT IT IN OUR FRUIT. They can't be trusted with anything. I bet they'd put mayo in apple pie if they could get away with it.
Let's say a quarterback comes out of college (let's call his abilities comparable to Matt Ryan) and, by some media leak/misstep the NFL community learns that this quarterback is IMMORTAL. By IMMORTAL I mean that he can still get injured, maybe miss a year or two, but can always come back and will play at the same ability FOREVER.
Now, I think he obviously gets picked Number One. The only question is what kind of contract does this guy get? 25 years/$200 million? Forever/$13 million a year? I feel like most teams would be scared because of the mental stress that accompanies immortality (all your loved ones die, etc) but I feel like some teams would take the gamble on a quarterback that will live FOREVER, right?
Dude, would YOU want Matt Ryan as your quarterback from now until the end of time? Because that's probably way more Matt Ryan than you'd want in your life. Anyway, the immortal QB's contract would still be restricted by the language of the collective bargaining agreement. His rookie contract would still only last four or five years. After that, I'm willing to wager that no team would ever sign him to a contract that lasted in perpetuity, for a number of reasons:
1. Just because the QB can't die or grow old doesn't mean he wouldn't eventually grow tired of the game and want to do something else with the rest of his life.
2. Right or wrong, fanbases get tired of the same asshole being trotted out there time and time again. If Matt Ryan was your QB for thirty years and, in that time, got you 10 wins a season but never got you to a Super Bowl, you'd be a mental patient by the thirtieth year of his tenure. You'd want him gone and you'd never want to see him again. It would be like eating bananas and mayo every day. Eventually, you would just want shit to CHANGE, and that's not the worst thing on Earth. Sports teams NEED turnover.
3. Too many dickhead sportswriters would demand the immortal QB be ruled eligible. In one of the earlier drafts of The Postmortal, I included a passage from "Mike Lupica" railing against immortal baseball players. I ended up cutting it from the final draft, but here's what I wrote:
I thought that we had finally ended mass cheating in baseball back in the 2000's. But now we're faced with an entire new generation of players that will not only wipe out the record book, they'll render any and all record books irrelevant from this day forward. You thought steroids was bad? You thought steroids tarnished the memories of Roger Maris, Hank Aaron, and other who played the game the right way? Steroids are a Sunday picnic compared to the havoc this poses to the integrity of the game. Players who never in a million years would have hit 500 home runs are now going to be sailing the past that mark in just a few easy decades of work. Yes, I know the cure is legal. Yes, I know everybody's all excited about our new age of healthy living. But what about our history? What about our memories? What kind of message are we sending to our children?
You gotta include "the children" when you're doing a Lupica impression. I think an immortal QB would end up getting passed around from team to team until he burned out mentally and retired after 47 years on the job. You know, like Dave Kreig did. ZING!
This knob who lives in my apartment building likes to store his Ducati in our No Parking zone. I feel like he might be overcompensating a bit. What a douche.
The PITBULL kickstand makes it.
Let's say a major league baseball team builds a new park at a cost of $600 million. How many consecutive games would the team have to lose in their new ballpark before the team owners considered it legitimately cursed and exploded it? Say they did fine on the road, but starting at their home opener, they never once one a game at home in their new park. How long would it take? A full season? Two?
It would depend on the town involved, because if it were a baseball town like Boston, then all the retard Sox fans would freak the fuck out after one season and be like OH FACK THE NEW FENWAY IS FACKIN' CURSED THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU TAY-UH DOWN THE MONSTAH! But if it were some other city like Houston, then I think people would let the team suck at home for much longer.
The thing is that it's pretty much impossible for a baseball team to go 0-81 at home, so a cursed stadium wouldn't take long to reveal itself. It's much more likely for an NFL team to go 0-8 at home for a season. Happens every year, so it wouldn't be a stretch to think that an NFL team could go a full decade losing every game at home before owners and fans finally threw in the towel and ate the $600 million. But a baseball team that went two full years without winning a single game at home would be perhaps the strangest occurrence in the history of American sport. I kinda want that to happen now.
My friends and I went camping at a friend's place in Poconos. We saw this book on the bookshelf. The title was "The Man" by Irving Wallace. Apparently they made a movie and James Earl Jones starred in it.
Burgess Meredith was also in the movie too! Or so says IMDb. I have no doubt that, bad as this movie might be, it can't be any worse than The Man starring Sam Jackson and Eugene Levy. That's the worse of the two Mans.
The original book is 887 pages long. Oof.
Would you legally change your name to Babydick Cumdumpster for 2 front-row seats to every sporting event for the rest of your life? Luxury travel to and from the event is included, but you cannot tell anyone about the deal, sell any tickets, or go by initials, a nickname, or Drew Magary ever again.
You drive a hard bargain. I think most single men would take that deal, because you would get the free junkets and you could always explain your name away by telling people that you're a member of Odd Future and that's the handle you go by. You can pull off being Babydick if you're charming enough.
But a married fellow like me would have to say no. My wife wouldn't take too kindly to Babydick jetting around the globe to sit courtside at the Final Four with all his GLORY BOY friends. She'd get all mad about me taking time away from my family, and then be doubly enraged because all our thank you notes would have a stamp from THE CUMDUMPSTERS on the return address. It wouldn't go over well.
Say I just told you that, sometime within the next five years, your mom was going to die in a bloodbath ... unless you agreed to never use the internet for those five years. Starting at midnight. No browsers, no e-mail, no smart phones, nothing. Could you hold out?
P.S. She is going to read your reply.
The only way I could hold out is if I relocated somewhere that had no Internet access, like a log cabin out in the woods or something. I think we've all done the thing where we've been like, "I'm not opening my browser for a whole hour! Gotta do REAL work!", and then we're back looking at gifs of Alison Brie's boobies four seconds later. It's hard to quit something cold turkey if you're just a click away from it. I would probably have to retreat to some cave, and then chain myself to a stalactite within the cave so that I would physically restrain myself from hitching a ride to the nearest Apple store so I could check my email. I would also arrange it so that a friend or relative would come to my cave every day and debrief me on everything that happened on the Internet that day, including an oral recap of what happened on Twitter. "And then Tom Petty died and NO ONE joked about it until Patton Oswalt did and then EVERYONE joked about it."
That would probably be the only way I'd hold out. Otherwise, I'd have a moment of weakness, try and sneak in one look, and then my mom would be hacked to death. I'm so sorry I failed you, Mom. I wish I could have done more.
Say you were a big man in the NBA or College, 6-8 to 7 foot range. Wouldn't you be the most dominating defensive play of all time if you played with a massive erection all game? Who would post up on you? And getting rebounds and blocking shots... I mean, you automatically create an extra foot, foot and a half perimeter at all times, right?
Best of all, you could accuse anyone who shied away from contact of being a big fat homophobe. What's that? You don't want to try to box me and my huge boner out to get that rebound? THAT'S BECAUSE YOU ARE A BIGOT.
Ultimately, though your strategy is bold, it would ultimately fail, and the reason why is because there will be at least one other player out there who is not cowed by your raging hardon, and will surprise you by going right at it, potentially crushing your dick, causing the engorged blood sacs to tear, and leaving you in a crumpled heap on the court, delirious from the pain. You stick your dick out there and someone is gonna try to break it. Let that be a lesson to all you horny power forwards out there.
I work for a big company owned by a bigger company. As such, there are rules as far as tech goes-no sites are blocked and you can use your computer for anything (porn, Reddit, whatever), but anything you do is obviously subject to monitoring to some degree.
I found out recently that the company will reimburse you if you put work email on your phone, which effectively means I would get $40/mo back for my data plan. Well, I usually use my phone to look at porn in the bathroom. Turning it into a company device obviously creates a bit of a problem for my fap schedule.
Would you rather: Be able to look at porn/whatever on your phone without judgment and pay the usual $90 a month for a smartphone with a data plan? I'm torn.
I think you and I both know that you're going to take the free data plan and then go fap in the shitter anyway. And you know why? BECAUSE MEN ARE PIGS AND CAN'T HELP THEMSELVES. You'll just have to hope there's a pig sex fetishist in the company who captures more of the IT department's scrutiny than you. "I just watch plain old hetero sex! It's like reading the Times!"
Time for a GREAT MOMENT IN POOP HISTORY:
I was a corporate paralegal at a big NYC law firm my first few years out of college. One morning I took a sloppy hungover shit in the lockable/single/private bathroom. I returned to my desk to resume my diligent internet surfing, and immediately got a frantic call from an attorney in Germany who needed me to standby at a moment's notice to file some paperwork with Delaware that couldn't be done until he gave the green light, but that needed to be done within a MINUTE of his giving it, which could be any second or in a few hours. I don't remember what paperwork or why the timing was weird, and I probably never did because I was terrible at my job and it fucking sucked, as you can tell.
So I'm sitting there waiting for this call (billable time!) and notice that something smells. I accuse my fellow paraslave Thomas, by yelling through the wall, of ripping a heinous fart and fuck him. He denies it, and the wheels start turning as I notice the smell is not so fart-like as it is actual shit-like. I shift in my chair and suddenly the inside of my khakis sticks to my knee...and it's definitely not static. I panic and race back to the private bathroom, lock the door, and peel my pants off to find dozens of tiny shit splatter spots on the inside of my pants, on the outside of my boxers, fucking everywhere.
This was going to take a lot of cleanup. I hadn't told Thomas to cover for me on the call before I raced to the bathroom, and trekking back through the halls to warn him with the smelly exploded melted Krackel bar inside of my pants was out of the question. So I frantically got to work with the scrubbing, discovering more spots and speckles in each new fold of the pantalones. (Thank GOD these pants had humongous pocket linings where most of the splatter ended up, otherwise I'd have emerged from the bathroom looking like I'd just waded into the Hudson.) I finish up 15 minutes later, bury my boxers at the bottom of the trashcan and race back to my desk to notice like 7 missed calls from Germany, voicemails, and some frantic e-mails, the last of which suggested I was in for it when he got back from Germany. Turns out that attorney was an idiot dickhead and he got his secretary to do it easily because paralegals are pointless anyway except to make the attorneys feel like slavemasters. But that was a fun week waiting around for him to come back and fire me; thankfully he just yelled at me and bought my story that I had to do something urgent for someone else.
So I almost got fired because I couldn't aim. Remember kids, always poop IN the toilet.