Time for your weekly edition of the Deadspin Funbag. Got something on your mind? Email the Funbag. Today, we're covering tipping for takeout, Jerry Kill, and more.
There's a dude at my gym who blasts Linkin Park through his Beats when he's in the locker room. But he doesn't WEAR his headphones. He uses them as speakers and plays the butt rock loud enough so that he can hear them without putting them on all the way. And then he sings along. That's grounds for murder, right? I didn't say shit to the guy because he looked like he could beat my ass, but what kind of monster does this? If you see this man, alert your local authorities.
Which of these games has a bigger point spread: Denver vs. the Jaguars, or the Jags against Alabama on a neutral field? The Jaguars should easily beat Alabama, but they don't really have a "name your own score" offense even given the difference in talent level, which I think puts an upper limit on how much you can favor them by in that matchup.
We already know that the Broncos will be favored by four touchdowns over the Jags, making it the largest point spread in NFL history. Somehow, I don't think the Jaguars would be favored by as much over Alabama; too many people would WANT to bet on 'Bama in that instance. Whenever we make these "worst pro team versus best college team" hypotheticals, it's usually because we want to make a point about the epic shittiness of the pro team involved; we want to believe it is that bad. A win by Alabama would also help validate the quality of play in college football.
So I think a lot of people would bet on Alabama because A) Alabama has a shitload of fans who would bet on them because ROLL DAMN TAHD; B) the Jaguars are so bad that people would have a hard time betting on them to win any game by a significant margin; and C) Brent Musberger's personal wager would influence the entire line. I say the Jaguars would be favored by 17 points at the beginning (Bill Simmons does NOT agree with that line!), only to see the line fall over the course of the week. And then I think the Jags would win that game by three touchdowns because even the worst team in pro football history isn't THAT bad. If I were a Jaguar forced to play a lowly college team, I would inject every last illegal drug I could and take out all of my merciless aggression on poor A.J. McCarron. Jags win big!
For fun, I called a professional Vegas oddsmaker to give me his hypothetical line. He did not return my call. I'd bet the over on his jerkiness, that's for sure!
Do you tip restaurants when you pick up takeout with a credit card? Mike Schur (@KenTremendous) had a big Twitter survey about this a while back and it was pretty evenly divided between no tipping and tipping.
Personally, I don't. A tip is what you pay for service when you sit and eat at a restaurant. You're paying for someone to wait on you: to guide you through the menu and bring you a clean fork and laugh at your stupid jokes, etc. You're "buying" that with your tip. When you go to pick up takeout, you're not getting any service, apart from the nice cashier lady handing you your bag. They didn't even deliver. You had to drive to go get that shit. The only reason to tip in that scenario is that you feel bad that you've ordered takeout and are somehow depriving the wait staff of their tip money by not sitting down to dine. You're paying to absolve yourself of guilt.
Plenty of people tip in that scenario because they have the means to do so, and that's fine. I waited tables once and those people deserve all the tip money they can get. But you shouldn't be expected to tip for service that you, technically, never got to begin with. It's like having the tip jar out at Starbucks. All that jar does is hold your conscience for ransom. It's a dick move IN THIS ECONOMY.
Jerry Kill, head coach at Minnesota, was suffering from seizures or seizure symptoms and didn't make the trip to the Big House for the game against Michigan. He's missed several games the past few years due to his seizure issues. At what point does the Minnesota AD say enough is enough? Can Minnesota EVER fire him without the people at BIG SEIZURE calling them dicks? Of course, does any of this even matter? It's Minnesota football, after all.
There are already plenty of people saying Kill should quit to address his health problems. Jim Souhan at the Star Tribune even made the argument that the potential for a coach's seizure-related death gave the Minnesota program poor curb appeal:
The face of your program can't belong to someone who may be rushed to the hospital at any moment of any game, or practice, or news conference. No one who buys a ticket to TCF Bank Stadium should be rewarded with the sight of a middle-aged man writhing on the ground.
Well, that's a weird angle to take (fire him because EWWW GROSS SEIZING GUY ON THE FIELD SO AWKWARD YOU GUYS), but I get the sentiment: Kill isn't healthy enough to do the job, so he shouldn't do the job. But if I were Kill, I would never, ever quit. Why would I quit my job and voluntarily cut off my health insurance when I know I'm TOTALLY gonna need it?
I assume Minnesota won't fire Kill outright because they don't want to pay him the balance of his contract or look insensitive to someone with a devastating health issue. All the more reason for him to stick around and dare them to fire him (which they probably could have gotten away with last year in the wake of abuse allegations). The idea of him doing the "honorable thing" and resigning—giving up both his pay and his benefits—is hysterically naive. No sane human being would do that. Much better to keep your contract and risk death by stress-induced seizure while battling Iowa for the Floyd of Rosedale.
If you were paid a salary of $2,000,000 per year, tax free, would you be willing to make going to a maximum security, general population prison your job? Let's say it is a 4-hour per week job (8am-5pm), you have to commit to an entire year, and you would be able to go home at night to your family.
No, because it's a general population prison, which means that you are under constant threat of bodily harm: rape, shankings, forced drug muling, etc. We are a culture that venerates money, and yet most Americans believe (correctly!) that no amount of money is worth doing time, because prisons are truly AWFUL places. Even if you don't have to spend the night in prison, you're still spending every day there, growing warped by the guard-prisoner dynamic and getting worn down emotionally by the constant atmosphere of menace. All it takes is one member of the Aryan Brotherhood to make you his bitch and suddenly your cushy, $2 million-a-year gig has become 12 months of abject torture. That isn't worth it.
If you're unemployed and in debt and desperate and it's your only solution (or if you're just out of college and bored to death), I could see taking the offer. But if you're in relatively OK shape, you probably turn it down.
The other thing is that most people prefer jobs that lead to something better. For example, if someone offers you $60,000 for a one-year contract to sit at home all day, and someone else offers you $40,000 for an entry level job at, I dunno, Google or something, no one is taking is the higher-paying no-show job. There's a certain intangible value in knowing that the work you're doing now is serving you well in the long run and leading to potentially better work and shitloads of money down the road.
And, in general, people like the idea of being productive. They want to know that the work they're doing has value beyond their paycheck. That's why MTV can attract thousands of saps to come intern for them for nothing. You don't get paid jack shit, but you're really making a difference in this world when you're running out to a gift shop to find a foam finger for Miley Cyrus to tickle her cooch with.
Who knew there was a market for "Moonwalker"-era Michael Jackson decals?
I can't even imagine the person who receives most of the profits from the sale of that decal. I bet it's some awful guy in Vegas with 80 plastic surgeries and a walk-in closet filled with puffy shirts.
My fiancé watches Colin Cowherd every morning. Now, I like sports and it helps to have some timely sports info when dealing with the guys in the office. But Cowherd's nonsensical analogies are too much for me sometimes and I start yelling at the TV. Then by BF starts defending Cowherd for some stupid reason. And then it's a fight for no reason whatsoever. Any suggestions on how to de-escalate this situation?
Dump him. It's the only acceptable solution. Who WATCHES Colin Cowherd? It's bad enough to listen to him, but to actively watch his rat face deliver SMOKING HOT TAKES would be unbearable. You don't want your groom to come under Cowherd's spell and begin demanding that you only bring in bridesmaids from large TV markets, or cutting off the reverend at the altar because the reverend doesn't "understand the business" the way he does.
Seriously though, try to talk some sense into him. Try to get him to see Colin Cowherd for what he is: a shrill, humorless fuckhead who, with ESPN's blessing, spews stupid shit about sports using every trick in the Z-List Limbaugh Impersonator Handbook. Cowherd's show is designed specifically for all the mini-Rovells out there looking to "win" their water cooler arguments at their job at the cracker factory. You don't want your fiance to become THAT kind of guy. Tape his eyes open and make him watch an endless loop of bowl game sponsors' postgame trophy-presentation speeches to get your point across.
I listen to talk radio because I hate myself, and sometimes I come across Cowherd's show and listen for three seconds. It's like digging a paper clip into your heel just because you're curious about pain. I never last more than 30 seconds, which is ten seconds longer than I last when I come across The Dennis Prager Show.
How much coverage do you think Aaron Hernandez being arrested/charged would have gotten if it had happened in, say, week 12 of the NFL season?
I mean, I think it got a lot of coverage in the offseason anyway. It was still an enormous national story—the kind that bleeds off the sports page and becomes something that even non-sports fans know about. In fact, the offseason tends to amplify stories like this because there's nothing else going on. In the middle of the season, it's just one football topic of many. HOLY SHIT HERNANDEZ CHARGED WITH MURDER! AND WILL TONY ROMO EVER STOP DERPING OUT OF HIS ASSHOLE? TONIGHT ON NFL TOTAL ACCESS.
Also, even though it happened during the offseason, the Patriots made no attempt to sign an adequate pass-catching replacement. So they basically treated the arrest the same as if it HAD happened during the season. Which was cool of them, because I don't like the idea of the Patriots prospering.
Let's say the goal is to lose Twitter followers in the shortest time-frame possible — how would you go about doing that? Obviously, you can't just delete your account. And let's also set a rule that you can't just mash the keyboard and write afdshadsads;asdfkf; and adjkasddffsdafsda and adpfjisadfd every five seconds. It has to be the tweets of a literate person. Would you just be super boring maybe? I remember Norm McDonald tweeting practically every stroke of The Masters and racking up some fine losses.
Can you begin fake spamming? BECAUSE I FOUND A GREAT WAY TO LOSE 10 POUNDS IN 10 DAYS THANKS DR. OZ! Do that every seven seconds and you can probably get rid of any non-Russian malware bot following you.
Any sort of overtweeting works, maybe with a bit of outright racism mixed in. There's nothing worse than following someone only to realize that they tweet every four seconds. It feels like they're attacking you. I like a nice and balanced timeline, so when I see the same avatar seven times in a row it feels like the other people I'm following have been tied up with a rope and locked in a basement. You are tweet-stalking the world when you do that.
By the way, a White House official got in trouble this week when they tweeted out the n-word by accident (OR WAS IT?!). I believe the "I tweeted out something racist by accident" nightmare has now fully usurped the "I overslept for my math test" nightmare in the collective consciousness. Every time I get shitfaced, I now wake up the next morning and think to myself, "Man, I hope I didn't accidentally tweet out anything racist last night!" And then I double check to make sure. One day, man. One day my finger will hit the wrong key and I'll tweet "I really kike the Bengals to win this week!" and life will be over. Looking forward to it.
Man who just found out he has chlamydia trying to do the right thing:
What's the best way to go about telling 4 girls that you just found out you have chlamydia? One girl was a one night stand, one girl thinks you're an asshole because you broke up with her (you are an asshole), the other two are friends with benefits that don't want anything serious right now. I think I need to at least call all of them, and I'll probly tell the FWB's in person.
But a buddy of mine says chlamydia's not that serious, so I really don't need to tell them at all. I told him that's fucking insane to do that to someone so he changed his mind and said a text will do. Is there an etiquette on how you tell someone based on the seriousness of the STD? Please help.
You need to tell them quickly so that they can go get treated for it, because obviously, you don't want the clap hanging around in your system any longer than it ought to. People who don't get treated quickly are at a higher risk for re-infection. And given that symptoms include "abnormal vaginal discharge that may have an odor, bleeding between periods, painful periods, abdominal pain with fever, pain when having sex , itching or burning in or around the vagina and pain when urinating," re-infection isn't all that cool.
You can't tell your infected partners this with a text or an email because they will know that you're being a fucking coward about it. You have to either call them or tell them in person, no matter how horrible and awkward that may be. If you just text them, you will spend the rest of your time feeling shitty about only texting them. If you sack up and tell them in person, you can walk away knowing that you did your best to make it right. It's worth getting beaten about the head and shoulders with a handbag on four separate occasions. Once it's over, it's over. They might even admire you for having the guts to tell them face to face, so long as they don't realize you had to tell three other women. YOU SLY DOG YOU.
By the way, I'm assuming you didn't realize you were infected before having sultry relations with all those fine ladies. If that's not the case, YOU BURN IN HELL RON MEXICO.
Do you think you could pitch a full 9-inning game to any MLB team without them putting up at least 100 runs?
No. Unless they get bored.
I'm 35 and recently/reluctantly moved into a 5 bedroom house with 3 people in their mid 20's. I always wish I was that old again but then I come home to this... that's ON TOP of the stawberries! Ahhh mid 20's, not a salmonella/instant ticket to death care in the world. No thanks, amirite?
Yeah, now that I'm fully domesticated that kind of setup horrifies me. When I buy chicken at the store, I even wrap it in the produce bag they provide in the meat aisle, so that it won't get any chicken juice on the milk and what not. Sometimes you'll get a poorly wrapped pack of chicken and will leak chicken juice all over your hand and then you have to cut the hand off to prevent the rest of your body from becoming infected.
I never used to give a crap about any of this. When I was in college, you could have rubbed raw chicken on my genitals and I wouldn't have thought twice about it. But now that I've been married (BRAINWASHED) for 11 years, I have been conditioned on a molecular level to abhor such unsanitary measures. If I see dirty dishes in a sink now, I can't let that shit stand. I don't know what happened to me. I used to be chill, man. Now I'm a fucking OCD freakshow.
What do you think it would take for the Stanley Cup final to overtake the Super Bowl in terms of ratings? A US president's son playing against Russian's president's son??
If Sidney Crosby were to go through an Aaron Hernandez type trial, but was acquitted, and decides to play again, would it produce a behemoth rating?? I think he would have had to kill an equally high profile player from the opposing team (Ovechkin). I still don't think that would do it.
I don't think that would do it either, because Sidney Crosby isn't even American, so who knows if his murder of another player was part of some kind of bizarre Canadian salmon trading ritual.
I think that time is probably the best way for the Stanley Cup to somehow overtake the Super Bowl. You never know what could be the cultural norm a hundred years from now. Football could gradually fall out of public favor and hockey could introduce all kinds of cool new rules—shorter season, no dirty foreign players, head coaches beheaded in the event of a loss, winning team gets to marry Katie Baker, etc.—that make the game more popular. You never know. That should be the NHL marketing office's strategy: "Hey, you knoo, people could just start liking us for noo reason." It's as good a strategy as any.
The only other way I could see it happening is if the NHL cut the number of teams in half, reduced the season to 20-game schedule, played every game outside, and had EA Sports designers create a new hockey game that was as addictive as NHL '94, because NHL '94 was awesome. WHO SAYS NO TO THAT PROPOSAL?!
Email of the week!
When I was a teenager, my parents sent me off to a 2-week summer camp (turns out it was to get me to lose some weight, in which it actually worked, but I proudly gained it all back within a month of coming home!). During camp, my group went on a hiking/rafting trip in the mountains in New Mexico. The camp had picked Mt. Wheeler, which is the highest mountain in New Mexico. It might as well have been Mt. Everest to a 15 year-old fat kid from the Midwest.
After a long drive, stopping here and there, we arrive at the base of the mountain, put on our 'packs', and start hiking. We hike for.fucking.ever. Finally, at around 4pm, we arrive at a lake that sits in a valley on the side of the mountain, and I feel the grumblings and bumblings. My counselors tell us to take a break, so while all of the other guys are off in the woods getting blown by the girls (I remember a camp rumor that one of the girls had 3 titties. No idea why I can remember that...), I'm searching for a place to squat. It is important to note that it is very cold at this elevation; around 40-45 degrees (an important tidbit for later). I find a tree that I feel is out of eye-shot, drop trough, lean against the tree, and unleash hell.
I clean up (don't remember how), get back to the group, and we hike until around 7pm, which is when we set up camp, with all of us having 2-to-a-tent. I turn in for the night, get in the tent, and I started smelling this rank, awful sour smell. I search and search and can't find the source, until the 'oh-God-please-no' moment, where I realize that I had shit in my pants. My ass was so numb from the cold and hiking that when I took a shit earlier at the lake, I hadn't noticed when I pulled up my pants that I had gotten pooh in them. Due to the numb body, I had hiked in it for 3 hours.
Fortunately, the guy I was sharing a tent with hadn't turned in yet, so I quickly stripped down and changed. But I had this shit-encased pair of underwear that I needed to do something with. So I crammed them into a pocket of my 'pack', and told myself I would get rid of them later. Of course, I completely forgot about them.
When I arrived home from camp, my mom started going through my pack to do my laundry (nice of her), and I hear this "What in the hell is this?" come from the other room. She had found the evidence. By this point, the shit had fossilized and turned hard, and she was obviously/rightfully repulsed. So I had to explain to her what had happened. Even as a mother, I'm pretty sure she lost all respect for me right then and there.
Drew Magary writes for Deadspin. He's also a correspondent for GQ. Follow him on Twitter @drewmagary and email him at firstname.lastname@example.org. You can also buy Drew's book, Someone Could Get Hurt, through his homepage.