Time for your weekly edition of the Deadspin Funbag. Drew Magary writes for Deadspin and Gawker. He's also a correspondent for GQ. Follow him on Twitter @drewmagary and email him at email@example.com. Today, we're covering donuts, alcoholism, and more.
This week's Funbag is just a bit shorter due to the MURDERCANE and the fact that we're working off of Tumblr today. Let's get to your letters before the power belatedly goes out and I'm forced to eat my own children:
Yesterday someone left a full box of Dunkin Munchkins in the common area at my office. What better food is there to find in the common area than an almost-full box of Munchkins? Leftover pizza is inevitably cold and gross after sitting out there for hours.
They're almost a perfect office food because you can eat 50 of them and still feel like you didn't eat as much as if someone had put a box of Krispy Kremes out front. My boss used to bring in a box of Krispy Kremes occasionally and I would go into the conference, grab a plastic knife, cut one of them in half, eat that half, and tell myself that I was through eating. Five minutes later, I would come back to eat the other half. Five minutes after that, I would cut ANOTHER donut in half and swear it was over. And then, another five minutes later, I would talk myself into eating the second half of the second donut, run to the conference room to cram it down my throat, and find that someone else had eaten it and that there were no more donuts left. And I would curse the person who ate that second half of my second donut, because that helped mask my intense self-hatred. GOD WHY CAN I NOT STOP EATING?
I think cookies are also an excellent conference-room food. Someone brought in cookies from Panera once and they were all as big as frisbees. I nearly died with excitement. Some other important conference-room foods:
• Chips. Dump some into a cup and bring them back to your cubicle for porn-time snacking!
• Hot pizza
• Leftover Chinese. Though all you usually get is rice and six water chestnuts. I used to fill a plate with rice and then just pour brown sauce on it as a complete snack.
• Hot bagels
• Trays of barbecue
• Birthday cake
• Boxed chocolates/any holiday candy
And here are some not-so-special conference room foods:
• Old pasta. I used to eat it just because it was there and hate myself for it. Mmmm… tastes like worms.
• Old bagels. Especially if there's no cream cheese around. What kind of lazy dick doesn't bring in cream cheese?
• Bad breakfast pastries. You're basically gambling any time you forage through the breakfast-pastry sample tray. With a little luck, you get a perfect cinnamon roll. But more often than not, you get a 46-hour-old danish that had all its icing scraped off by a co-worker.
• Old salads. And all the croutons and Caesar dressing are gone by the time you come in.
• All old sandwiches with mayo. The turkey and ham sandwiches went within the first five seconds of the meeting. All that's left for the commoners is a stack of ancient tuna fish salad DRIPPING with Hellmann's. Seriously, Big Mayo: YOU GO STRAIGHT TO HELL.
The other day, I went to get money at the ATM and my local bank branch put out a tray of Oreos in the main area for customers to take. FOR FREE. I'd never been so excited. They even had two kinds: Double Stuf AND Golden! I KILLCRUSHED those Oreos. Just SLAYMURDERED them. They could lose my savings in a collateralized-debt scandal and I'd still be loyal because of those cookies. Every time I go back to get money now, I pray they'll have the cookies out. And when they don't, I am crushed.
What would the implications be of Romney losing it and screaming the N-word at Obama? Obviously Twitter would explode and Romney would have to step down as the Republican candidate, but then what? What happens to the country? Race riots? A full-on race war? What do they do about the elections? How can they even keep campaigning after something like that?
I think the election goes on as scheduled, with Romney stepping down and Paul Ryan taking his place, OR with Romney stubbornly remaining in the race after seeing his approval ratings SOAR in North Carolina, Virginia, Arizona, Colorado, Missouri, Ohio, Florida, New Hampshire, Alabama, West Virginia, Mississippi, and OH GOD EVERY GODDAMN STATE IS RAYCESS! I don't think any kind of race war would happen unless Romney somehow stayed in the race and managed to win, and I just don't see that happening because I don't think most Americans would stand for it. They wouldn't, right? Please tell me they wouldn't.
Why is it that every time you travel, no matter where you go, your gate is going to be the furthest one away?
So that you get your exercise, fattyman. Sometimes I don't use the moving walkway, specifically so that I can feel more fit than the layabouts standing on it. LOOK AT ME BEING ACTIVE. I took a flight a couple of weeks back and I spent an inordinate amount of time scouting the entire concourse for the proper lunch joint. I didn't want to settle on a Quiznos if there was a five-star taqueria nestled down by Gate 354J. Every time I'm in an airport, I fear that my flight will get remanded to some loser concourse with shitty restaurants, and all the cool people will get to hang out on a different concourse with all the aforementioned taquerias. I should probably drink more while traveling.
"My other ride is a wheelchair."
Ha ha! It's funny because they're mocking people who are forced to live in a practical manner.
I am 27 years old. A few weeks ago I had a week off of work because I was starting a new job. The Friday of my last day at my previous job was the start of what I anticipated being an awesome week-long bender of booze, fast food and golf. Sunday rolls around and I decided to get rip-roaring drunk and ended up falling on my face upon leaving the bar. I woke up in the ER with 3 stitches in my eyebrow, a concussion and a BAC of 0.351. I was quarantined to the hospital for the night because they can't let you leave drunk. Finally at around 6AM, the doctor came into my room and informed me of my outrageous BAC and made me walk a straight line before I could leave. She then uttered, "You're 27 right? Grow up, you're too old for this." I was so out of it that I didn't even respond. But my question is, is she right to say this? Or should I have told her to mind her own fucking business?
On this website,the effects of your BAC are described thus: "Coma is possible. This is the level of surgical anesthesia." Normally, I would tell you that if you're single and childless, you can do whatever you want and everyone else can go eat shit. HOWEVER, you're either lying about your BAC (I can't believe you would lie to people on the Internet. SHAME ON YOU), or you nearly died from alcohol poisoning, drinking well past the point where your average social binge drinker would call it a night and injuring yourself in the process. In general, the rule is that if you're worried you might have a problem, it's already a problem. This goes for drugs, alcohol, porn, and wanting to sleep with your cousin. I've known people who are real alcoholics, and it's pretty easy to tell which people are in control of their shit and which people aren't. Go to a hospital once with a BAC near death and it's a funny story. Do it more than that and YOU ARE A PROBLEM THAT ANDY GARCIA MUST SOLVE.
What's the point of the little gap at the head of every cheap toilet seat? Is it so I can play with myself while dropping a deuce? Or maybe it's just the missing piece to the world's most EPIC giant horse shoe game.
That fucking gap has ruined millions of parents. I take my kid to shit in a public bathroom and that gap ruins EVERYTHING. Because I have to pull my kid's pants down and then set them on the toilet, only I don't take the pants all the way off because I don't want them touching the piss-soaked floor. That keeps your kid's legs tighter together and so they end up with their thighs TOUCHING the front rim of the toilet, which is the fucking dirtiest place on Earth: just a festival of dried piss and pubes and old hobo cum. Oh God, OLD HOBO CUM IS TOUCHING MY BOY! I assume that they have this gap at the front of the seat because it's cost effective and because it's a kind of one-size-fits-all model, where even a 500-pound man can manage to find his dick and stuff it down below the rim thanks to that opening. But still, all public toilets should have the full oval. No more old hobo cum, please.
There's one girl in my fantasy league. She offered me pictures of her topless straight up for Megatron. She's fairly attractive and her rack is outstanding. The commish offered to refund my buy in if I shared them. Seems legit right?
Don't do it. When word of the deal leaks, it'll tear the whole league apart. THAT GIRL IS A FILTHY JEZEBEL! SHE'S A JEZEBEL!
I'm taking my daily deuce in the bathroom at my school and I look down to see a full pack of 5 gum. I pussied out when I thought about all the germs and bacteria that coulda been on it. Did I make the right choice?
I think so. You're in school, so there's always the danger that some wiseacre classmate decided to take a shit, mix it with flour, bake it into hard strips, wrap those strips individually, and then PLANT the gum package on the floor, just waiting for a sap like you to pick it up and indulge. Schoolboys are evil, and have lots of time on their hands. I know because they write in every week saying, "BRO? YOU EVER SHIT ON A DOLLAR AND THEN LEAVE IT IN THE STREET FOR PEOPLE TO PICK UP? FUCKING CRUSHED SOME LAUGHS WITH THAT POOP DOLLAR, BRO." Beware. Also, it's gum. I'm older now and I have completely outgrown gum. Gum is fucking pointless and makes my jaw sore. If I saw a fellow 36-year-old actively chewing gum on a regular basis, I would kick him in the chin.
My younger brother had to have his peener hole surgically widened when we were kids. What do you think about that?
Here are the basics of that condition, known as (I swear this is true) meatal stenosis:
Meatal stenosis is an abnormal narrowing of the urethral opening (meatus). If left untreated, this can lead to urinary tract infections and kidney problems. Meatal stenosis is a common complication of circumcision, caused from chronic exposure of the irritating effects of urine on the meatus and rubbing of the meatus on a diaper or clothing.
Treatment of this condition is by surgery, called a meatoplasty. The meatus is opened or widened by making an incision below the meatus… If done in the operating room, it involves making an incision in the urethral opening and placing 3 dissolvable sutures around the meatus. Let's all pause a few moments to squirm uncontrollably and shriek in horror.
I just received this email from one of my friends, who works for a very well-known company based in Texas: "So, I'm chatting with my friend Jim who works in the Facilities Dept. They're currently doing a total revamp of the entire building. This includes renovating all of the bathrooms. Turns out, one day during the demolition of one of the main first floor bathrooms, a crew discovers a loose tile on the wall of a men's stall. They pull it aside and find an erect condom stuffed with different hard particles: wadded up paper, broken pencils, etc. So someone was stashing a homemade dildo piece by piece in the bathroom of our building." What could this person have been doing?
Putting it in his butt? Just a wild guess. Although I dunno what I would do with a dildo that had broken pencils in it. That doesn't seem like a smooth ride. Why not just buy a real dildo and put it in there? I wonder if there's something more satisfying about cramming a DIY sex toy inside your body. Maybe it's a custom fit. Maybe it was just some kid dicking around with a rubber. When I was a kid, I bought a bunch of rubbers and spent a week experimenting with them. I had no girl to do this with, mind you. Just me and a box of rubbers, seeing what it's all about. Did I stage elaborate fantasies which then resulted in casual-but-safe sex, with me majestically unfurling the condom for myself? I DID. Teenage boys are so, so sad.
I'm so mad, Bro.
Imagine the USA is the English Premier League. Which three states do you relegate? And which three Canadian provinces (or Mexican States) do you promote?
Speaking of Arizona … My first instinct is to say FLORIDA. FLORIDA FLORIDA FLORIDA. But Florida is useful for when you want to go somewhere warm but don't want to have to bring a passport, so Florida stays. I don't know that Alabama and Mississippi offer much in the way of natural resources or intellectual firepower, so fuck them. They're out. The third slot goes to Arizona, specifically because I would like to erect a border fence around neighboring states to keep out illegal Arizonans. It should be legal to shoot any Arizonan trying to escape to California. In their place, I'd bring in Baja California (from Mexico), Quebec (strip clubs and shit), and British Columbia (Weeeeeeeeeeeeeed). There we go. Easy peasy. Then again, why limit ourselves to just Canada and Mexico? Why not annex every Caribbean Island, along with the UK and Australia? You could also add South Africa to the mix and then all the English-speaking countries of the world would at last be united into one single, mega-USA. I'd shit my britches if that happened.
It's agreed that the best team in college football could not beat the worst team in the NFL. But what if you gave Nick Saban a month to prepare for playing Jacksonville or Kansas City, and then told either of these teams, with only one week's notice, that they were playing Alabama after the last game of the season (they would get paid for this game like any other). Then throw in that for both the week of practice and the game, KC or Jax could not have any coaches present. Do you still think the crappy NFL team would win?
Oof. I think so, but it would definitely be competitive. It's always annoying when people are so definite about a pro team beating a college team. Every time? Really? A thousand out of a thousand times? I know pro teams are vastly superior, but they're still human. They're still fallible. In the case of the Chiefs, EXTREMELY fallible. So I think a well-coached Alabama team would probably have a good shot of beating a self-coached group of Chiefs. The Chiefs are fucking horrible. By the way, Alabama QB AJ McCarron has thrown zero interceptions this season. In eight full games. That's not unimpressive.
As the host of a regular Sunday early game get together for a group of guys in our mid-twenties, I find myself often frustrated that none of my peers want to go "pot-luck" on the meals. For instance, one guy will bring a 6-pack of domestics and maybe chips and salsa, another will bring a 6-pack of IPA and trail mix, and so forth. Each person is adamant on bringing their own food and NOT sharing. This just boggles my mind. Why on earth can't we coordinate something so that one person gets beer, and the other people get a different type of dish? We wouldn't be spending anymore money and I would think having a better variety of dining options is a plus. Are men between the ages of 18-28 even capable of this higher level thinking? Or am I just a socialist who should stop bitching and quit trying to share my pork rinds?
When you're in your 20s, you hate the idea of sharing things because there's that fear that one of your dickhead friends will take liberties and drink more than his fair share of the beer. And when you're short on cash, that kind of shit matters. You hate the idea of spending your hard-earned money on other people. I remember being on constant alert to make sure no one was ripping me off. Men are petty and selfish that way. One time a kid smuggled beer into our dorm at dipshit prep school, and he watched over that supply like he was Nino fucking Brown. By the way, once you get married, this problem takes care of itself. No woman would walk into that situation and tolerate beer feudalism. Get married and your wife will demand full sharing, and then your friends will be like, "BRAH! She's not cool, brah! YOU'VE CHANGED!" Half of all Judd Apatow movies are based on this scenario.
Do you think any professional athletes wear makeup during their games because they know they will be on TV?
Have you ever had to drop a deuce while wearing a necktie? It's a fucking travesty. You have only three options: 1. Let the tie dangle, which means every 5 seconds you have to make sure it isn't dipping into the Line of Fire. It can get peed on. It can dangle into the poopwater. Gravity is constantly conspiring against you. 2. Toss the tie over your shoulder. Every time you shift a half an inch on the seat, it'll come tumbling down, leading to the same problems in Option 1. 3. Tuck the tie in between two buttons of your shirt. This is a pain in the ass, and I don't have time because I have a shitbeast to unleash. Plus you know it'll just slip out anyway. This is not a question. Just wanted to rant for a minute there.
Fair enough. I don't even know why ties exist, frankly. They seem designed specifically to get coated in mustard and urine. I know men look dapper in a proper suit and tie, but that hardly seems worth the overwhelming sense of responsibility you feel to make sure the tie doesn't get ruined even though it's TOTALLY GONNA GET RUINED. There has to be some kind of decorative accessory for men that looks as good as a tie but is far more practical. Like those faux Navy shoulder top thingies that Sea Org members wear. Email of the week time.
I was "teleworking" about a month ago and I hear a strange sound coming from my upstairs bathroom. Couldn't tell what it was - kind of a rasping sound - so I ignored it. But the sound wouldn't stop, so I climb the stairs to check it out. Get to the bathroom door, and the sound stops. I walk back downstairs, the sound starts again. After walking up and down the stairs a few times, I feel stupid and say fuck it. I ignore the sound. An hour later, I walk upstairs to harvest some timber, lower my drawers, lift up the toilet seat - and there is a goddamn rat sitting in my toilet bowl. It is a big city rat, mean and hungry looking. I yelp and slam down the seat before it can leap at me. I stand there with my pants at my ankles and consider the situation. I realize the rasping sound is the rat trying to eat its way through the toilet lid to escape. I yank up my pants, put a dictionary on the toilet lid so it can't get out, and flush the toilet. Rat is still there. Squirt dishwashing soap, toilet bowl cleaner, and any other thing I can think of through the crack between toilet and lid, and flush the toilet. Rat is still there. Fuck, it won't leave. I grab the plunger, and psyche myself up to beat it to death. I envision the rat leaping at my face as I lift the lid - I drop the plunger, I can't do it. I place an emergency call Orkin, my regular Orkin guy comes and looks very grave as I tell him the story. He doesn't want to fuck with the rat either. But it's his job. He sighs, takes his Orkin toolkit up to the bathroom and after about five minutes, with loud banging emanating from the bathroom, he comes back down. Mission accomplished - he scared the rat down the drain. Chickenshit rat escaped, but will it return for revenge, maybe with his buddies? A month later, I am finally able to sit on the toilet without worrying about a rat taking a bite out of my ass, but I will never read on the pot again. No lingering. "Shit and get out" is my new motto now. Morals to this true story: 1. Always look before sitting down. 2. Always close the lid on toilet, it's not there for decoration. It was therapeutic to write this.