I was at the airport last night and I lost big at Rental Car Roulette. I kept waiting for my rental car company's shuttle to show up as wave after wave of other, better companies had busses whizzing by every six seconds. I must have seen 37 Hertz buses while I stood out there like a GASH. You will pay for making me wait 10 whole minutes, people of Avis. YOU WILL PAY IN BLOOD AND TREASURE.
Now, your letters:
What event do you think would garner the most Twitter activity? I remember when that Earthquake hit the East Coast and every tweet was bitching about how the world was going to end. I think it would be between the president getting assassinated or Jesus coming back, even though he's kind of a dick.
Well, Peyton Manning just DID get Tim Tebow fired. But of course, that story would pale in comparison to the following events:
1. First contact with aliens. (Sample tweet: "HOLY FUCK. ALIENS!")
2. President assassinated. (Sample tweet: "OMFG! Obama RIP. Here's a link to his speech at the 2004 convention. What a talent.")
3. Nuclear bomb goes off, particularly if on the U.S. mainland. (Sample tweet: "Have you seen my dog?! PLEASE TELL ME HE MADE IT OUT ALIVE!")
4. Second Coming (low on this list because I think it would take a long time for everyone to take it seriously and not think it's a prank).
5. Zombie apocalypse.
I'll be honest: Ninety percent of all my daydreams involve one of these scenarios coming to pass. I'm not saying I want any of the above things to happen (except aliens, because ALIENS), but I think a lot of men spend time ruminating on these five major world scenarios. Apart from some sort of huge natural disaster, these are the Five Major Daydream Events of the male psyche. We get a lot of questions here at the Funbag, and a disproportionate number of them concern at least one of the above events. We men think about them a lot. We want to know how we'd react in all of those instances, and what it would be like to be alive during such a life-altering event. I know I'm curious. I wish I wasn't.
A while back, while we were shooting the shit, my Dad told me the story of how he found out Kennedy had been killed. He was walking down the street in Chicago when someone ran down the sidewalk screaming out the news, and it virtually paralyzed him. I was fascinated. Frankly, I was a little envious that he lived through that moment and I didn't, which is so WRONG. But there you have it. I don't think I'm alone in having that sensation.
Let's say the afterlife is your standard Catholic fairytale of Heaven/Hell/Purgatory with St. Peter at the gate judging your life and deciding if you get through into Heaven.
Let's say you lived your life as a fairly OK guy; you were good to your friends/family and tried not to never fuck anybody else over intentionally. Just your everyday, flawed but ultimately decent human being. But one night, say in your late 20's, driving home in pitch black, you ran over and killed a kid without knowing it. You weren't drunk, your weren't speeding, you just couldn't see. You felt a thud when you hit the kid, but it wasn't a direct hit so it didn't make the sort of impact that would make you think you hit anything of consequence. You looked back in your rearview, saw nothing in the darkness, and went on your way without stopping or getting out to look around. You spend the rest of your life blissfully unaware of what you did. So my question is, on your Judgment Day, do they hold that shit against you?
What are you hiding, Dan? Tell me more about that dark and stormy night back in 1992. Anyway, I think that you would be absolved for such a tragedy because you held no malice aforethought. If you had known about the circumstances of the accident, you clearly would have been heartbroken. And that matters to Jesus and stuff. Because really, who gets out of the car when they hit something? I've hit a squirrel or two in my time, and I felt really bad about it, but never bad enough to STOP. I mean, what are you gonna do, give the squirrel CPR? Only Tim Tebow would pull over and tend to the squirrel's burial and estate matters. Normal people keep on truckin' and get to the Chick-Fil-A as quickly as possible.
I'm trying to figure out if it's really possible for you to run over a kid and be completely unaware of it. It would have to be an incredibly rainy night, and the kid would have to be wearing a Hefty bag with a bunch of highway underbrush glued to it. And he'd have to be lying down, with his head just barely jutting out from the shoulder, waiting for you to crush it like a melon. And the impact would have to be so mild that you mistook it for a squirrel or a bird, which is not a given because kids have HUGE heads. Seriously. Every kid on Earth looks like Tweety Bird, their heads are so big. I think it would be really hard for all that to happen by accident. But we should probably find a kid to test this on, just to make sure.
At what age would you accept an offer to relive your senior of college (with the body and liver of you at 22), knowing that your life would end at the end of that year?
Probably no age. Shit changes when you get older. It's nice to look back on senior year, but you wouldn't actually want to do it all over again if you're a 78-year-old man who's seen the world and become wise beyond measure. You aren't gonna want to spend the last year of your life hanging out with retarded college kids and guiltily banging girls who are young enough to be your granddaughter. You're gonna want to do it the CLASSY way: hiring primo hookers and trying heroin for the first time. If you do life right, you shouldn't ever want to go back.
Am I just a sick fuck, or do normal people get real excited when a celebrity dies under "unknown circumstances" and there's that period of time between the autopsy and the test results?
I don't know about you, but I immediately lose interest once the words "no foul play" are uttered. I desperately want MORE foul play. Every celebrity death should be the result of foul play. That's what I deserve and expect. Otherwise, why am I even paying attention to you people? If Kim Kardashian dies as a result of anything but murder, I'll be heartbroken.
I give you real life Comic Book Store Guy from The Simpsons.
That's pretty dead on.
We moved into a new house about a year ago and it came with a huge tub that we can all fit in. So most nights, we have some family tub time where me and/or my wife get in the tub with the girls (infant and 3.5 yrs old). My oldest has become fairly infatuated with my junk lately. Even though I think you're supposed to speak about it more clinically/maturely, I told her it is called my Private Part (which she repeats as Pirate Part - which is still sort of accurate, what with all the pillaging I do).
Anyway, I told it helps me go to the bathroom and it's different than what her, her mom and sister have because I'm a boy, it's not appropriate for her to touch, etc but I've mostly tried to just steer the conversation away. Look, I guess what I'm asking is: should I stop bathing with my kid?
You should. There are plenty of parents out there who hop in the bath with their kids, and that's all well and good. But my rule is that once the kid is old enough to talk and to process actual memories, you have to end it. Because your kid may not care about seeing your big hairy penis now, but when she's 25, she'll be like, OH CHRIST I SAW DAD'S COCK AND IT WAS ALL GNARLED AND WIRY EWWWWW.
The worst thing is that kids are virtually magnetized to your privates. If I go take a piss, it's like a goddamn cattle call. The kids come RACING to the bathroom to see what's going on. "Are you peeing, Dad-Dad?" YES! There's nothing new here! It's urine flowing out of my cock! Trust me when I tell you that you will be GLAD I shut the door.
Sometimes, if I need to get my kids upstairs for bed, I just go take a leak in the upstairs bathroom. WORKS LIKE MAGIC. Kids are weird.
You are returning an NFL kickoff. It is guaranteed to land at the goal line, right between the hash marks. Your blockers: 10 Verne Troyers. On the kick coverage team: 10 current Muhammad Alis and 1 in-his-prime Ali. In-his-prime Ali is wearing full boxing attire (gloves included) and can use his gloves as he sees fit (ie. no penalties for punching).
Assuming that fatigue is not a factor for any party, how many times do you think you can score out of 100 returns? I'm of the firm belief that if you direct at least 8 of your Troyers to attack the legs of Baller Ali, and you will score at least once. My friends disagree. (Note: I am an unathletic white guy) Thoughts?
Well, Muhammad Ali can barely move right now. Putting 10 of him out there is essentially like putting 10 orange traffic cones on the field. I would direct my Troyers to ALL go block the in-his-prime Ali and take my chances trying to elude the 10 remaining Alis littering the field. The question is ... would 10 very tiny dwarfs be enough to stop that one viable Ali? And the answer is ... probably not. If we were talking about 10 Peter Dinklages, it's a whole other story. But these are 10 Verne Troyers. They're the size of babies. They can barely walk. Young Ali would be able to shake them off as easily as you could shake off the Old Alis. Then it's a matter of one-on-one, with Young Ali catching you, and then ... PAIN. No chance in hell. A hundred times out of a hundred, you end up dead.
I got home from a night of drinking ahead of my roommate (without him realizing) and waited in his room to freak him out. The result is this short YouTube that we call "Horseface Saga". Enjoy.
That's excellent hustle.
I have a 2.5 year old kid. I am petrified of him giving up his naps. On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being the weather this past weekend, 10 being MMQB after Tebow wins a Super Bowl for the Bill Belicheck-led Patriots, how bad is it when your kid gives up their nap?
It's a double-edged sword. When your kid first forgoes the mid-day nap, it's terrifying. WHOA HEY THIS WAS DADDY'S TIME TO WATCH SPORTS AND FAP. You really come to cherish that time. HOWEVAH, a lot of older kids end up going to bed later at night if they nap too much in the afternoon, and that's a real kick in the ass. I can't tell you the number of times when I got panic attacks because my kid was napping past 4 p.m. and I knew that meant he was going to be up during prime time TV programming. That is the fucking WORST. I'll shake the kid's face to wake him up just to prevent that from occurring. I've seen kids who take naps starting as late as 5 p.m. That will DESTROY your life.
Also, a napping kid can keep you housebound. If it's just you and the kid at home, you can't go anywhere in the afternoon if the kid is napping the whole time, and that can get pretty boring. Trust me: When you wake up at 6 a.m. every day to care for your kids, you desperately want to leave the premises by lunchtime. You can't stay in one place all day. You'll fucking die.
HALFTIME via Dan:
I was thinking about the Revenge of the Nerds soundtrack, with the high water mark being "Are You Ready For the Sex Girls" by Gleaming Spires. I was so enamored with the thought of the song I Youtubed it, and much to my surprise the whole video is two guys singing that song while making what appears to be a lemon meringue pie. That's it; that's the whole video. Not even a hot girl eating it at the end and getting whipped cream on the corner of her mouth.
That really is an awful video. Not a song you ever want to hear in its entirety. IF YOU CAN'T TALK LOVE THEN YOU BETTER GET OUT.
Would you drop everything in your life right now to marry Wendy, of Wendy's fame? We assumed two basic premises, first being that Wendy was the sole heir of Dave Thomas and by marrying her you would have access to her countless millions. You could immediately quit your job and live a luxurious life of mansions and yachts. You only responsibility would be to accompany Wendy to the occasional corporate function and shake a few hands. We also assumed Wendy is pretty cool and easy to get along with.
The rub is that cheating is not a option, Wendy would be the only woman you could have sex with for the rest of your/her natural life.
Well, she certainly looks nice enough. Also, free Chocolate Frosties! Oh, you should see the kids' faces light up when you tell them they're going to Wendy's for a Frosty. They act like they just won the Super Bowl. It would be a lifetime of happy children running around with chocolate ice cream Dirty Sanchezes on their upper lips.
But I'm of the firm belief that you do not marry for money. This isn't Victorian England. You must marry for LOVE, not for all the square hamburger patties you can eat. This is not a knock against Wendy, who seems terribly affable and may even possess the sexual prowess of a female puma. But if you must love Wendy for WENDY, or else all is lost.
Now, as to Kate Upton and the entire Carl's Jr. empire? YES.
Hey, I'm a Giants fan, my roommate's a Patriots fan, and I won dinner for me and my girlfriend off of him in Super Bowl XLVI. Is there ordering etiquette for dinner won on a bet, in terms of price or whatever else? All four of us (his girlfriend too) will be eating together.
No. Fuck him. He's a Boston fan. If he had won the bet, it would have been $70 LAWBSTAHS and $500 bottles of FACKIN' PINOT NOO-AHHHHHH! You rub that shit in like a veteran forcing a first round pick to pay for dinner.*
(* - Unless he's a true friend and you really do care for him, in which case keep it modest and avoid the ensuing awkwardness that would come with sticking him with a big tab.)
I like to break-up the monotony of modeling and spread-sheeting by doing pushups during the day at the office. Since it is socially unacceptable to do them at or under my desk, I usually find myself banging them out on the floor in the handicap bathroom. I have told a few friends and co-workers about this and most of them think it is disgusting. I typically wash my hands before and after I get to work, but sometimes I forget. I see nothing wrong with the whole ordeal because the handicap bathroom is lightly used, handicap bathrooms are generally much cleaner than larger public bathrooms, and this one is a large private space with a trustworthy lock on it. So far the only draw back has been the stigma attached to going in and out of the handicap bathroom 5 to 6 times a day (some of the people who see me coming and going must think I have a hideous colo-rectal disease or an awful case of bladder shyness). Curious as to your thoughts on using this approach to getting some exercise during the day and alleviating the pains of sitting at my desk staring at a computer screen for 12 hours a day?
Uh ... can't people clearly see you doing the pushups from underneath the stall partition? If I saw someone doing pushups in the handicapped stall, I would hurl eggs into that stall. NEVER DO THAT. Who does that? It's like you're a member of the cast of New Girl.
Also, who says that stall is cleaner than the others? Everyone uses it. And handicapped people aren't any cleaner when they piss or shit. If anything, they're far more prone to accidentally piddling on the floor due to their lack of bladder function. You're insane, I tell you! THIS MUST NOT CATCH ON.
Concerning the word "nigga" in Mandarin, I asked my buddy who's teaching English in China. His response:
haha yea thats absolutely true. "Na ge" means "that" or "that one." When they say it quickly it is pronounced more like "nei guh" and they say it just like we say um, uh, or like.
However, he also told me Chinese people are still exceedingly racist. One time in class, he was asking the kids what kind of pet they would keep in the house and one of them blurted out "a negro!"
THAT IS RAYCESS! I don't know about you, but I find it oddly comforting whenever another culture is exposed for being racist or sexist or generally unpleasant. Makes me feel much better about being an American. China has rednecks too, you know!
In fact, that's one of the great truisms of the world: Every town has townies. It's amazing, really. You could go to Beverly Hills and there would still be some redneck bar tucked behind a building or something, populated exclusively by guys who wear rebel flag jean jackets and foam baseball hats. Rednecks are a global phenomenon. You'll never kill them off.
Someone either got promoted or fired for this, right?
I'll say promoted.
Would you rather be immune, for the rest of your life, to gunshots; or to being cut, e.g. knives, swords, naginatas, and so on? The latter is the obvious, practical answer, but the former gives you a better chance of becoming a superhero and/or surviving in the 'hood...
You couldn't turn yourself into a superhero by being bulletproof because villains would soon learn that stabbing is your weak spot, and then it's RAY LEWIS STAB PARTY 2012 all up in your abdomen. No thanks. And as a gentrified white person, I rarely find myself in the ‘hood. I have personally never witnessed anyone using a gun for illegal purposes, which I greatly regret. Every time I walk down the street, I hope and pray that I'll come across a police shootout.
So your best bet is to take the stab-proof option. No more cuts. No more splinters. No more horrifying garbage disposal accidents. Bees couldn't sting you! Now tell me that wouldn't be worth your while. If I were stab proof, I'd spend all day jamming my hand inside a running Hamilton Beach blender, just for kicks.
I travel almost every week for 2-3 nights and stay in random hotels. What are the odds that I have stayed in a room that someone died in? This thought never occurred to me before yesterday and I am a little creeped out by it. Seems like it should be a law to seal off that room till the end of time.
I'd say the chances of someone dying in your hotel room are less than someone filming a porn scene in your hotel room, but greater than someone plotting a terrorist attack in your room. You can't let it freak you out. I mean, I've been to hospitals. People die in hospitals all the time. The gurney you're lying on to go to surgery almost certainly was host to a cadaver at some point. But they change the sheets and stuff, to get rid of the dead person smell and to wash all the ghosts down the drain. You wouldn't refuse to go get treatment for a gunshot wound at a hospital just because you're entering a haven of death and despair. Ditto Motel 6. Sure, someone probably made a snuff film in the room and the maids didn't bother to wash the bedspread. But you must learn to compartmentalize.
If you have a wart on your finger, can you give genital warts to a girl if you finger her?
Yes. But if she were willing to have a warty finger inside of her, I don't think she'd mind the consequences.
In sports video games players have an overall rating based on a bunch of other ratings (speed, agility, jumping ability, strength, etc) on a scale of 0 - 100.
What if somehow the same sort of thing was done for adults, except the rating was based on moral values, sense of humor, how good you are in bed, intellect, etc? All the video game rules apply, i.e. you can improve or get worse as a person over time and your rating would automatically update as your grew/regressed in any way.
A. Would you want others to be able to see your rating?
B. Say it wasn't free to see other people's ratings...how much would you pay to know if someone you were interested in dating/marrying was highly rated or not?
A lot of it would depend on the established categories. For example, if Sexual Deviancy were a rating, most people wouldn't want that information to be made public. Let's say that these would be the chosen ratings for every live person:
• Sense of humor
• Dexterity (There have to be some D&D categories used here, dammit)
• Sexual Prowess
• Constitution (Health, so people know whether you have secret tongue cancer or not)
• Earning potential
I'm sure I'm missing a few, but that'll do for now. Now, if those ratings were available for people to purchase, I would have to think that various government agencies and HR departments would pay top dollar for them. And if you were cruising match.com for a date or something, you'd probably throw down for a Premium membership just so you could sort candidates by high sanity and high sexual deviancy. But ultimately, ratings would be bad for humanity, because people with high scores would automatically get elevated to exalted positions, while people who are lacking would be left behind. Stupid people wouldn't be able to trick anybody into believing they're smart, which is cool unless you're a stupid person. It would essentially form a permanent caste system and leave many people bitter and unhappy. And that would lower their sanity rating considerably.
Time for a GREAT MOMENT IN POOP HISTORY:
My son is 7 years old. Since he's been potty trained we've marveled at what comes out of his bottom. This is from an email I got from my wife last night. I've changed his name to protect his innocence.
Listen — I know in the past we've said "WOW Jimmy that is the biggest poop you've ever done." But I almost fainted after seeing and smelling what came out of him tonight. It was the size of the creature in Tremors. I'm not fucking kidding. It was so big that it came UP the side of the toilet - was so thick that there was no way water could get down the hole of the toilet. Jimmy actually called me into the bathroom to witness it. I asked him when the last time he pooped was and he said he couldn't remember but that he'd been working on that one for awhile.
Photo by Daniele Carotenuto/Shutterstock