Before we get to the Funbag, a quick programming note: I'm gonna be liveblogging the Oscars over at Gawker on Sunday night. We'll be plumbing depths of bitchiness heretofore unimaginable, so stop by if you feel like it. To your letters:
What name has the highest ratio of hot girls attached to it? In my travels, I have found that Amys and Heidis are usually girls I would like to stick my penis in. Stripper names don't count. Who do you got?
I think the easiest way to figure this out is to go by geography. I went to the Social Security Administration's website and looked up the top female names for girls who were born in California in 1990, because 20-year-olds from California are likely to be more attractive than 60-year-olds from Montana. UPDATE: 22-year-olds. I am so SMRT. Here's the top 5:
I did a cross-reference with Texas for the same year, and the only different name in the Top 5 there is Brittany. So I think that your chances of encountering a smoking hot gal with the name Ashley are much higher than trying to find a Bertha with similar qualities.
I think every man also has names that he personally finds hot, for random reasons. For example, a long time ago I saw Cadillac Man, and the hot chick in that movie was named Donna (played by Annabella Sciorra). So now anytime I think of the name Donna, I think of trashy hot Italian women. Given the existence of Donna Shalala, I can't begin to tell you how misguided this is.
I was excited to find this Siamese twin Frosted Mini Wheat in my breakfast bowl & thought I was in for a frostingasm ... until I tried to bite into it. I'm lucky I didn't break a tooth, it was hard as concrete.
Yeah, you have to be careful with those. That mini wheat frosting is actually made from moon rocks and whale tusk enamel, so it's not the softest stuff on Earth. My wife swears by Frosted Mini Wheats, but I've never had a more consistently disappointing cereal in my life. I mean, it LOOKS good. And I usually like shredded foods: shredded lettuce, shredded bubble gum, shredded pork, etc. The first bite of Mini Wheats is usually pretty good, but then comes the chewing. Hours and hours of chewing.
Do pro athletes ever wish for injuries? Not serious ones of course, no one wants to blow an ACL or anything. But if you're an NFL player, relatively secure in your spot on a team, is getting an run of the mill ankle sprain in Week Six the worst thing in the world? You still get paid, you get to travel, but it's pretty much a nice day off right? Especially if you playing like a Road game in Chicago or something. You get to stand on the field in some cool team apparel, and cheer on everyone else actually working.
I think it depends on the sport. In football, I don't think any player wishes for an injury because A.) pretty much no spot on the team (except for franchise QB) is ever truly secure; and B.) you don't want other players and coaches giving you that "you're a pussy" look. You know the one I mean. Ever have an injury that really hurt, but your coach thought you were milking it? Like, he'll walk by and see you and be like, "That hamstring still bothering you?" And you say "Yes," and he gives you that nod/grimace that lets you know that he thinks you're a complete GASH. Which is totally unfair if your injury is legit, but here we are.
Now, baseball and basketball? Totally different story. Both those sports have guaranteed contracts, and both those sports have travel schedules that are a grind compared to the relatively sparse NFL schedule. If it's the middle of August and you've got a road trip to some shithole like Cincinnati on the docket, why NOT tweak an ankle? I'm sure injuries have been milked, nursed, and wholly concocted to get out of pesky road trips. Sometimes, you just don't wanna bother. Speaking personally, I'll do pretty much ANYTHING to avoid going places to do stuff. You should hear me sigh when my old lady tells me I need to hit the drugstore to pick up some medicine or something. What's that? You want me to drive ONE WHOLE MILE? And stand in a line for three minutes? UGH. Piss off. I ain't goin' nowhere.
Thus far, nobody has been able to explain properly to me why pharmaceutical companies insist on stuffing their pill bottles with a huge swab of cotton before they get topped. I see no purpose here other than to frustrate the shit out of someone who, presumably, is already sick and irritiated. We have the cap, that foil cover plus the cotton now. Seems like another example of "Big Painkiller" trying to screw over the little man.
TRYING TO GET IT OUT ONLY PUSHES IT DOWN DEEPER!
By the way, screw any company that makes a foil seal that doesn't have a pull tab. I should be able to grab the tab and pull that seal off with minimal effort. Instead, these companies seal the bottle with a double-reinforced layer of Kevlar and no pull tab. You know how pathetic you feel when you can't bust open a foil seal with your finger? You feel like the weakest man on Earth. Bullshit.
What if, a couple weeks before the draft, Andrew Luck just beat the shit out of some random pedophile? Would he still go number 1? It's not like he beat up just any person. It was a child rapist. Or would he drop because he's a QB and you can't have that kind of unpredictable shit out of your Quarterback?
Luck is white, so that would only get him extra grit points with both fans and analysts. You mean to tell me that this kid wants to be an architect AND he's also an effective vigilante? SWOON. Now if it's Robert Griffin curb-stomping that guy? CHARACTER ISSUES.
How frequently do you think truck drivers jerk off? Having said that, what do you think is the most common masturbation venue? In their truck, rest stop bathroom, or some place else?
I assume they do their business just as often as you or I. As someone who has slept in the cab of a semi, I can tell you that it's quite a cozy little place to sleep and would make an excellent spot for fapping. There's a little bed, and a little TV with a DVD player. You could fap for hours back there. I'm sure I was napping on about a gallon of dried trucker skeet when I was back there. I'd just like Jethro to know that I didn't contribute to the effort.
There's no need for them to use the rest stop bathroom for that when they've got the truck so close by. Unless they see a particularly fetching 17-year-old walking around near the Sbarro's and they have to get it done before they lose the mental image. I guess that probably happens a lot.
I was watching late night TV the other night and a commercial from UNICEF came on and started talking about how $0.50 a day ($15-$15.50 a month) could save a child, feed them, give them clean water and malaria shots, and all that. Immediately following that was a commercial for the ASPCA asking me to save an animal for.....$18 a month. How the hell is it more expensive to save an animal than a person? Are these people really treating animals better than humans?
Probably not. You're probably paying for their inefficient bureaucracy. Only three cents of your $18 a month will go to save a doggie. The rest will be expended on salaries, advertising, kennel lease fees, and Cosi sandwiches for lunch.
This is not to say that UNICEF is more efficient, mind you. They're probably just much better at lying to your face. "Say, what would be a good figure to use for helping an AIDS baby? Fifty cents? Let's go with fifty cents. Now, back to our multi-million dollar Upper East Side townhomes, fellow UN diplomats. PARK ANYWHERE YOU WANT." I fucking hate diplomats.
In the pantheon of great TV lawyers, who's your pick for best all time? So far we've narrowed it down to the following:
2) Lionel Hutz
3) Saul Goodman from Breaking Bad
4) Bob Loblaw
5) The Chicken Lawyer from Futurama
Are we saying that "best" means "most effective"? Because then Matlock and Perry Mason are probably tied at No. 1 with a 100% win percentage. But if we're just talking about best lawyer characters, then I'd put Hutz at No. 1, with Maurice Levy a close second, followed by Loblaw and Dan Fielding.
You know who wouldn't make either list? The lawyers from The Practice. Everyone has a show that they watched for years for reasons that escape them, and that show is one of mine. Those people were HORRIBLE lawyers. I'm not even sure they had proper degrees.
I just returned home from speaking to a class at my alma mater, and I have to say it was FUCKING EXHILARATING. I don't have a job that merits or requires presentations or lectures, but holy shit was it great. I was told to keep it informal, but I over-prepared and totally hammed it up. The attention they gave me was amazing and probably the highlight of my professional life.
I still have daydreams of being invited to my old high school to speak at assembly. We had to go to assembly two or three times a week (attendance was mandatory), and every speaker they brought in was boring and shitty and horrible. So I always fantasize about going back and being THE GREATEST ASSEMBLY SPEAKER EVER, tossing out pithy bon mots and telling the kids "Assembly sucks, AMIRITE?" to rapturous applause while the teachers who invited me hang their heads in collective regret. I'd really like to have that happen. "I'll win the crowd. I'll give them something they've never seen before."
If you had to come up with a number to sell your kid, what would it be? No judging, just an honest answer. For started here are some ground rules:
1) The kid will be taken care of, far away from Sandusky and other veritable dangers. Imagine it just like any adoption, but you cannot ever try to reconnect with it on your deathbed or any crap like that.
2) You can use the money for whatever you want. Set it on fire, use it to donate and take care of 400 starving fly children, use it to donate to cancer research... or buy tons of blow and hookers, whatever.
3) You can still have other kids certainly.
4) Be realistic. You can't say like "Oh, well I'd take $60 billion dollars."
So what's your price? I understand, "No, I'd never sell my child" but at some point there has to be a line where you can do so much good it can't be that immoral. You could keep your kid, or feed an educate 10,000 third world kids.
Nah, I still wouldn't do it. Even if someone literally offered me $60 billion, I wouldn't. No reasonable parent would. There's a reason you get that stock answer from parents. It's not because they want to sound like good people and not greedy assholes. It's because it's true. If I sold one of my kids for $60 billion, I'd have all this money, but I'd still spend every day feeling like a dickhead for selling my own child. And imagine if it became public. "Local Asshat Sells Baby." People would egg my mansion and shit. The whole thing would turn into a living hell within a matter of minutes. Oh, and I'd miss the kid and stuff. So no, don't sell your kids. Unless they're defective.
Biggest Jeremy Lin story: A) Jeremy Lin is gay, B) Jeremy Lin is assassinated while playing in a live game, C) Jeremy Lin is not Taiwanese American but is in fact a Chinese sleeper agent who knows eight different forms of martial arts and kills another player on the court as a message to all Americans that China is not to be fucked with?
Probably the last one. Anything that involves one player murdering another on the court will probably win out in the ratings department.
By the way, if Lin and the Knicks knock LeBron out of the playoffs, then Lin will become the single most popular athlete in the universe. I'd become an evangelical Christian if that happened.
Amazon has an 11 lb tub of Nutella. How long would it take you to devour the whole thing? I'm thinking a three-day weekend.
Jesus, look at that. It has a HANDLE. It's like a paint bucket. I want to hold a Nutella wrestling pay-per-view with it.
Let's say you're at home one evening, and the Millenium Falcon lands outside of your house, and Luke and Han hop out and explain they desperately need you to join them to train as a Jedi, to help in their ongoing war with the Sith. Luke explains that unbeknownst to you for all your life, you happened to possess an ability to use the force unseen since his father was alive. They found a means to travel to our planet and return to their galaxy for one time only—so the catch is you cannot return to Earth ever again if you choose to leave. Your family cannot come with you. Luke fears that without your help, they'll be unable to defeat the new Sith menace that has arisen. Your current physical condition doesn't matter, as you'll be trained by the best Jedi Masters and given a steady diet that would make Calvin Johnson envious.
Do you go with them? Would your answer change if this happened before you met your wife and had kids?
Obviously, if you don't have a wife and kids, you go. Anyone who wouldn't go under those circumstances is an idiot. I knew a girl once who wouldn't go abroad in college because it conflicted with the NHL season. What a fucking moron (NOTE: This girl, shockingly, was not Katie Baker).
Anyway, the family thing complicates matters. If I were guaranteed to return home after defeating the Emperor (let's say it's a one-year tour of space duty), I'm probably gonna go. I know the wife would object, but I'd explain to her that it was for a really good cause, and that she wouldn't want me resenting her all these years for not letting me chase my space dream. And then she'd have to reluctantly accept, on the condition that I pick up milk on the way home.
If I could NEVER return home, then I guess I'd have to decline. But I'd be really, really pissed about it. For the record, when it comes to breaking up families, an eternity of Jedi apprenticeship is far more tempting than $60 billion.
Say you have a wide receiver who is playing with a huge erection. He dives low for a ball on the sidelines, and all he manages to get in bounds is the tip of his penis. Do you think 1 penis equals two feet?
According to Wikipedia (which was easier to navigate than the NFL's own rules section):
A player carrying the ball (the runner) is downed when... Any part of the runner other than his hands or feet touches the ground. Ankles and wrists count as downed.
So if an ankle or a wrist or a butt counts (and butts do count), then I have to think a penis counts as well.
What the parameters on how long you keep casual work friends after you quit that job? My wife goes to a happy hour with ex-co workers, she is never to thrilled about going but feels obligated. How long does this charade go on?
For women, it can continue on through death. Women are very polite about that sort of thing. For men, it ends the day you pack up your shit and leave. In fact, if you get laid off, it happens before you even step foot out the door, because your co-worker friends feel so awkward saying goodbye to you while they get to keep their jobs. I have a couple of friends I made over the years from working in offices. But if those people don't live within a mile of my house, I'm probably not gonna make much of an effort to see them. This is what Facebook is so useful for. You can friend those people on Facebook and then NEVER talk to them again.
If you were sentenced to prison and you had a choice, would you choose the top bunk or the bottom bunk? Since all of my knowledge of the prison system is based on Oz, I would think that you are more likely to be shived if you sleep on the top bunk, but I have to imagine that you are more likely to be raped by someone like Adebisi or Sandusky on the bottom bunk since you would be boxed in.
No one wants to be a bottom in prison, regardless of the circumstances.
Do you think there has ever been a blowjob to completion in the non-human animal kingdom? If so, which animal? Dog auto-fellatio doesn't count.
Say hello to the Bonobo:
Bonobos are the only non-human animal to have been observed engaging in all of the following sexual activities: face-to-face genital sex (although a pair of Western Gorillas has been photographed performing face-to-face genital sex), tongue kissing, and oral sex.
Also, apparently male gorillas have been known to eat out female gorillas. And now I'm going to have to explain to Mrs. Drew why "gorilla oral sex" is in the Chrome autofill. Anyway, be sure to note the miracle of blowjobs to your next sexual partner. "You know, dear, cats can't do this. We should take advantage of this gift."
I just walked to the bathroom at work and a co-worker was already peeing in one of the urinals. I asked him if he ever has the urge to push someone in the back while they are peeing like we did in elementary school. He laughed and said that our Managing Director does it every time he walks into the bathroom. Seconds later, our Managing Director walked in and pushed him in the back.
At what age is it not OK to do this?
How old is your managing director? THAT AGE. Any grown man who does that to another grown man should be force-fed a gallon of tacks.
Time for a GREAT MOMENT IN BAT-KILLING HISTORY.
I was at my wife's cabin in Nisswa MN - which happens to be a beautiful, but very old log cabin. We were there with some friends, and after a long day of getting drunk on the lake, we decided to turn in.
About 3:30 in the morning my wife wakes me up screaming - There was something flying around our room and her panic created much more panic in me. I jump up, flip on the lights and there is a bat swirling all around like a maniac. I'm drunk, basically naked, and completely horrified as to how to proceed. So I fling open the door, and miraculously the bat flies right out to the main part of the cabin. I slammed our door shut, and proud of my quick thinking I figure I'll just deal with it in the morning.
I turn and tell my wife I'll figure it out tomorrow when I can come up with a plan. Literally as I'm explaining this, this bat comes crawling UNDER the crack in the door (less than half an inch of room) like some kind of horrifying rabid shape shifting monster. It's tiny face (complete with fangs and all) is staring at me as it slowly and deliberately shimmies through the crack.
At this point I'm convinced it's coming to kill me, and my family, so I freak out. I scream at my wife to take cover, and run to the other room to wake up my friend. He is of course confused and unaware as to why I'm so hysterical. At this point the bat flies into his room and he drops to the ground as if he'd been shot and starts screaming like a girl.
Finally we gather our wits, formulate a plan, and grab a fishing net (Great Outdoors style) and after about 10 minutes we net it and get it out of the cabin (actually not as difficult as you may think for future bat fighters). We're very proud of ourselves now and bragging mightily about our overall badassedry, and finally get ready to go back to bed - when all of a sudden that bat CAME BACK INTO OUR ROOM.
We left the cabin immediately and slept in our cars. We called an exterminator the next day to deal with it. Upon his examination of the cabin it turns out there were "Up to 500 bats nesting in the roof of the cabin" and that we were fortunate that we woke up and weren't in direct contact with the bats because the ones our cabin were most likely sick or dying. He said we had a hole in the back of the closet that he closed up and closed the other entrances to the roof and assured us we were good to go the next night.
Ever since that day, I am physically incapable of sleeping in that place because all I can think about is the flock of bats waiting to feed on my flesh while I sleep. Even in the heat of July in Minnesota I sleep fully dressed, with one eye open.