Do Some of You People Really Stand Up When You Wipe Your Asses?

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PROGRAMMING NOTE: Drew is on vacation, and Jezebel is running Deadspin today. I am running Funbag with a little help from some old Deadspin friends.

Before we get to your letters this week, I want to take this opportunity to revisit a 2009 “Balls Deep” that addresses what I consider to be one of the most confounding and disturbing binaries in human history. I’m talking, of course, about People Who Wipe Their Asses While Sitting Down vs. People Who Wipe Their Asses While Standing.

I had no idea the latter option existed until somewhere around a year and a half ago, when a friend brought up “standing while wiping” as if everyone knew about it. There’s no way anyone does that, I said. Are you fucking kidding me? Then I googled it. It will surprise very few regular readers of this website to learn that the first google result for the phrase “standing while wiping” is a 2009 Drew Magary post titled “Sitters Vs. Standers – The Great Wipe Hope.”


“I had no idea there was any other way until I went to college and people would see me stand-up over the top of the stall,” 23-year-old Manton wrote to Drew six years ago. “Standing while wiping is the only way to go,” another reader said. “One hand (my left) pulls my buttcheek to the side while the other cleans the affected area. It’s flawless.”

This visual haunts me in my sleep. A few times, I have brought up this debate in large groups to poll the crowd. There is usually at least one person (and in my experience, no shame, he has always been a man) who admits, a little bashfully, that he stands up to wipe his butt after pooping. Once the truth is out there, the standers seem to revel in their distinction. It’s a beautiful thing. And why shouldn’t they? Everyone poops; most of us do it in private; everyone probably poops differently, I guess. But I do not understand the logic behind standing up to wipe one’s ass.


Drew agrees. Let’s revisit his copy:

Now, I have lived on this planet for 33 years and I have concluded any extended bathroom venture the same way: sitting down, toilet paper bunched in my right hand, reaching back and around my body and gently wiping upwards, balls to butt. That’s how I’ve done it forever. That’s how I’m comfortable. But a couple weeks ago, a handful of our readers mailed in declaring that they stood to wipe, which I found to be completely alien.

Now, reader Dave would like to point out that College Humor did a quick poll of this phenomenon ages ago. Of 4,214 voters, 56% sat, while 44% stood. I found this breakdown to be shockingly even. I never knew. Such is the insular and private nature of our world in the john that we can find ourselves stunned at such different methodology.


When Drew wrote this seminal text six years ago, we didn’t have the resources we have today. Since 2009, poll technology has made great strides and ass-wiping technology, as far as I know, has more or less stayed the same. So I’d like to update the results here, today. Please speak your truth in the poll below—and if you feel any need to explain yourselves, standers, please do so in the comments.


And now, to your questions. Your Funbag panel this week includes a host of people who have previously edited and currently edit Drew Magary, and who have so spent so much time both reading and appreciating his style that they can now mimic it with aplomb. Let’s go.

Devin Gordon, Drew’s editor at GQ

A friend of mine called Inglourious Basterds “so good that I don’t like people who don’t like it.” I endorse that worldview, so what are some movies or TV shows that are deal-breakers for your friendship?


Fantastic worldview, one I wholeheartedly endorse. Here are a couple of my must-like-or-you-are-dead-to-mes:

  • WILD THINGS: Peak Denise Richards, Neve Campbell embracing her trashy cinematic destiny. Also Kevin Bacon’s floppy cock gets a hilarious cameo. They don’t make them like this anymore, and it’s all because of BIG BRA.
  • CHOPPED: This is it. Chopped and Wild Things are really the only two things I insist you like. I’m a simple man.

The rendering of Magary on the GQ website is extremely generous, no?????


Jim. Dude. You have no idea. I really look like this. I can even do that shit with my ears.

When using a urinal with a substantial amount of water in the base, is it appropriate to place your urine stream in the water or against the upper portion of the porcelain bowl? On the one hand, the sound of a stream of urine against water is

loud and rather obnoxious, but very little risk of splash back. On the other hand, you run the high risk of urine splashing back onto your pants/legs but it considerably less noise. What say you Very Special Guest?


True story: I once had a boss who would stand like six inches back from the urinal and just PUNISH the urinal water with his stream. As if he was thinking YEAH YOU LIKE THAT HUH BITCH YEAH. It was frightening. The sound was like fucking thunder, like that scene in in The Naked Gun when Lieutenant Frank Drebin forgets to unplug his microphone before he goes into the john.


Which reminds me: true story: one time I was on assignment for GQ and I forgot to turn off my voice recorder when I went to take a whiz—I take lots of whizzes, it’s kind of my thing—and then I turned over all the audio files to the fact-checker and the poor fact-checker heard all of it.

So yeah, do us all a favor and piss against the porcelain. You’ve been doing this awhile. You should be good at it by now.


Kyle Wagner, former Deadspinner

Is it okay to ask my drug dealer’s assistant out? Are there boundary issues? She gives me these longing glances that might mean SEX??? or BE MY FRIEND?? or PLEASE HELP ME?? And our interactions always seem to be on the cusp of more than business. This seems like a pretty big weed operation in a state that’s none too friendly to that kind of thing. If it is okay to ask her out, how to go about it?

Please advise,

Mr Chirbes

FUCK AND NO. The answer to this was always going to be no, mainly because you’re ugly. The State Department took a lot of shit this week for a clumsy formulation of a downright unimpeachable truth: WE LOOK LIKE SHIT. Of course anyone giving us the fuck-me eyes on Spring Break is trying to rob/stab/ransom us—we have the collective fashion sense of a Jim Breuer cosplay dungeon.


That’s all true no matter where you live, but you’re in a weed-friendly state AND dealing with the Jeff Bezos of weed? And you’re trying to diddle the secretary??? Jesus, man. Even if she does want to hump you—which she does not—you better fucking get married or else you’re going to spend the rest of your life wondering if one of her cronies is in the back of the dispensary, farting into your legalized weed.

Recently on Kinja, SomethingClever9 had a great idea... full-contact marathon.

Which other non-contact sports would be greatly benefited with some pushing and/or shoving?


Contact shitting! Like regular shitting, but with fights and/or boobs.

Would you rather live in a world with wasps the size of dachshunds or spiders the size of a St. Bernard?



Jack Dickey, former Deadspinner

2016 question: Is there any proper way for a person to express admiration for the way another person looks (because of clothing, styling, or natural attractiveness) if either of those people have a significant other?

[Translation for people from 1986: Drew’s girl looks so hot today. Should I tell her?]


This is how BIG MONOGAMY gets you. First you’re having fun, learning all about this other person, who miraculously likes you and wants to learn more about you, even though you’ve got 50k in student debt and can’t control your farting. Eight swift years later you’re on the toilet holding the bathroom door closed with one hand, jerking off with the other, a three-year-old issue of Shape magazine perched between your knees, while your kids are outside screaming for you to buy expensive toys for them. Never get married.


Anyway, there oughta be a ratio: if you’re dating someone, you can compliment the appearance of other ladies one time for every, say, six compliments you give men on theirs. That way you’re JUST A FRIENDLY GUY rather than the lech you know you are. You can lower this ratio as you get older, when everyone will assume you’re simply out of touch with cultural standards. I can’t wait to turn 80 and just fling those compliments like breadcrumbs.

We see these inspirational sports stories all the time where, at the very end of an inconsequential game, the team manager, often a special needs kid, is put in and scores a touchdown/basket/whatever. This is great but—what’s to stop some disingenuous coach from putting the kid in in the second quarter? Is anybody going to guard or tackle someone who’s clearly disabled? This is a foolproof and morally bankrupt move, right?


I played football at dipshit prep school, and let me tell you, there was a lot of talk of valiance and sportsmanship and all that bullshit. You might think we could be exploited by such a coach. But you know who else went to that school? Mark Zuckerberg. And do you think Mark Zuckerberg feels bad about stealing your data and selling it to advertisers when you just leave it for him, not knowing any better? FUCK NO. Mark Zuckerberg steals your data and uses the proceeds to buy every last affordable house in Santa Clara County. And then he gets hailed as the most benevolent force this side of Easter Seals. Any coach who pulls shit like that is bound to run into an even less scrupulous coach somewhere along the line.


On the other hand, can we be ENTIRELY sure this isn’t how Eli Manning won two Super Bowls? (RICHARD SEYMOAH HAD YOUAH QB IN THE FACKIN’ GRAHSP!)

Will Leitch, Deadspin founder (answers inspired by Louis CK bits)

My wife and I have 2 kids. We are also homeschoolers (I promise we’re not religious zealots or crazy people). Because of this, we have created a co-op with other homeschoolers in the area. Due to work requirements, this group is maintained by the mothers mostly. They meet weekly for group lessons and activities and whatever other bullshit is going on that week. Well there’s one mother in this group, let’s call her Not Carol, who goes out of her way to be shitty to my wife and a handful of the other moms. Not Carol and my wife used to be best friends. My wife did something innocuous to make Not Carol hate her. So now, my wife has to put up with it forever, because kids or something.

My question is this: My wife wants me to tiptoe around Not Carol and be nice and avoid the topic. I say bullshit. Not Carol is grown ass woman. I’m going to call her on her petty shit and be done with it. What would you advise? Also, why are moms consistently so shitty to each other? Why? WHY???????


I don’t think women are better than men, I think men are a lot worse than women. BOOSH! A man will cut your arm off and throw it in a river, but he’ll leave you as a human being intact. He won’t fuck with who you are. Women are non-violent, but they will SHIT INSIDE OF YOUR HEART. Also, HOMESCHOOLING? Kids are like buckets of disease that live in your HOUSE!

What are your thoughts on condiments in workplace refrigerators? If there is no name on said condiment, is it fair game for all employees to use? If there are three different mayo jars in the fridge can I use one on my sandwich? How would you rank the top 10 condiments for which people are the most anal about never sharing? I have to say Sriracha is right up there at the top.


You should never put mayo on a sandwich. SHAME. You’ve got to take some time alone process the shame. Everything’s amazing right now, and NOBODY’S HAPPY.


Tom Scocca, former Deadspinner

Why do my dress socks have a hole in them after I wear them one time? My regular, cheap, cotton socks don’t disintegrate after one use. How is BIG DRESS SOCKS getting away with this?



I wear dress socks maybe five or ten times a year—church at Christmas and Easter, a night at the opera, maybe a fancy dinner, and then however many funerals. MIDDLE AGE! And the risk of putting a hole in one is always there. I assume people who dress like grownups more than bimonthly are buying nicer dress socks, from the Real Clothing Shop. With garters! Also they presumably get pedicures. The dress socks I end up with are delicate things. But only the beginning of the problem—ALL dress-up clothing is a disaster waiting to happen. Put me in grownup clothes and I immediately turn into a three-year-old: spilling food, ripping weird little holes in the trousers, losing or shattering buttons, leaving pen marks on my sleeves. I can’t even THINK about neckties. Meanwhile my everyday slobwear stays tidy and orderly. Again, some of this must be quality control, but once upon a time, everybody dressed like that every day, and there’s no way they were all Investing in Pieces That Will Last. Penniless day laborers wore SUITS! It’s the single most alien thing about the barely-distant past. How was everyone not just staggering around in tatters? Everything was filthy and covered in sharp edges, and people were drunk all the time on top of that. I don’t get it.

I walked into the bathroom at work the other day and I couldn’t believe my eyes. I understand a stray pube will fall out from time to time and potentially land on the urinal, but there must have been three pounds of fresh pubes on the bowl. What kind of disturbing act could ever result in this sort of display?


Sounds like either radiation poisoning or the world’s scariest case of trichotillomania. I’d be hoping it was radiation if I were you.


Tommy Craggs, Deadspin editor emeritus

Ed note: Tommy did not meet his deadline.

AJ Daulerio, Deadspin editor emeritus

Is there any irrational unilateral executive action you would take on your first day in the white house if it were possible? For example, my friend would assign life sentences to anyone who was caught riding their horse on a paved road. I would revoke the license of any driver who had a customized vanity plate. What do you got?


Total amnesty for anyone with student loan debt of $27k or more.

Drew Magary is off this week.

Illustration by Jim Cooke.