FunbagTime for your weekly edition of the Deadspin Funbag. Got something on your mind? [Email the Funbag](   

Time for your weekly edition of the Deadspin Funbag. Got something on your mind? Email the Funbag. Today, we’re covering scorpion stings, blimps, Band-Aids, and more.

Time for your letters.


What would be more earth shattering? One day Jesus just popping on Oprah saying, "Hey, I'm back" or aliens landing on earth? Let's assume these aliens are friendly. I say Jesus coming back would start the largest holy war ever, thereby destroying the earth.


I think it's aliens, and I say that with no disrespect to Jesus. I'm also not including the possibility of ALIEN JESUS here, which is a whole other shitstorm (not to mention a fine SyFy channel original film). The return of Jesus would offer "proof" not only of divinity, but of the existence of the supernatural as well—a resurrected man and full-fledged deity who transcends humanity and defies common scientific law. That's big shit, especially for the 2.2 billion Christians on the planet (somewhere out there, a hipster Buddhist would simply respond "meh" in the Gawker discussion section).

But aliens? Aliens that can talk and somehow developed technology that enabled them to travel lightyears through space in a short time, something that isn't supposed to be physically possible? TAKE A WALK, JESUS. I have a new God now. Jesus 2.0 would pale in comparison to aliens because the existence of Jesus would simply incite more war, prompt Jesus fans to buy cheap RETURN TO GLORY merchandise, and eventually lead to widespread contempt and/or indifference for the son of God. It would be like Joe Gibbs's second stint with the Redskins all over again. It's never as good as the first time.

The arrival of intelligent life from another planet would entirely reshape the mindset of all humanity. We are not alone. We can go far places. WE CAN BUILD SPACESHIPS AND FIND A NEW PLANET TO TRASH. I'm glad Jesus made a comeback, but I wanna go check out Rigel VII with Kang and Kodos.



I was on a pretty nice chartered bus and the following was posted on the wall of the onboard can.

Any reasonable explanation? The seated man does have good posture.


That sign is asking you to pee sitting down, which is a lot to ask (BRO IF I PEE SITTING DOWN I'LL BE A GIRL BRO), but understandable if you've ever tried to piss in a Greyhound bathroom. Seriously, the toilet is merely a suggestion. The bathroom itself is the toilet. How am I supposed to keep from pissing on the floor when I'm in a 50-year-old bus going over a 30-mile stretch of grooved pavement on I-95? You may as well ask a sniper to gun down a hummingbird on the opposite coast. Forget it. That's why they're asking you to sit, which is funny because I bet no man has obeyed that sign ever.


What is the percentage of adult Americans who are attractive?

The line from the old Seinfeld episode was that 95 percent of the population was undateable, which seems accurate if you've ever been to the airport. Sometimes you'll go to the airport and see ONE attractive person in the crowd of thousands and you'll be like, Wow, they're fucking hot! Seems like there should be more attractive people to compensate for the fat hicks zooming around on Rascal scooters.


Anyway, since attraction is in the eye of the beholder, I think the estimate should be higher. I don't know about you, but the No. 1 thing that makes people attractive, to me, is a willingness to have sex with me. Oh, you wanna have sex with me? THAT IS SO HOT. Younger guys love to flaunt their pickiness for women, but the average 19-year-old would be turned on by a birch tree with a pair of panties hanging from one of its branches if it hit on him. BRO THAT TREE WAS LIKE A NINE, BRO.

It's strange how unwilling people are to admit what they find attractive. You're not SUPPOSED to be turned on by that old French lady you saw at the coffee shop, but she's giving off vibes, man. She could teach you things. Given the advances in plastic surgery and push-up bra technology, I say 12 percent of adults you encounter are desirable.


I was drinking on my deck when I was bitten by a mosquito. After crushing the life out of the savage beast, I wondered if mosquitoes get drunk when they bite someone who has been drinking. Google tells me that "no major research has been done on this topic." Really?


False. A recent study from Oklahoma State University (T. BOONE!) showed that bees can get drunk if doused with ethanol. So it stands to reason that if a mosquito ingests alcohol from @Vodka_Samm during a RAGER, that mosquito will be affected in some way.

Let me just say here that I am not wild about slow-witted people from Oklahoma experimenting with drunken bees. What if those drunk bees get belligerent? What if they start stinging people and sleeping around with other bees and having unwanted teenage bee babies? I won't stand for this outbreak of bee alcoholism. It's a plague upon society.


What is Big Band Aid doing that has my kid addicted to band aids? We go through 3 - 4 band aids a day. She's not gushing blood. I'm putting them on regular, healthy skin. I've bought more boxes of band aids in the past month than I have in my entire life. What sort of adhesive are they using that has my kid addicted?


It's a placebo. When you put a Band-Aid on a kid, they think it's doing something, and so they feel better, even though the Band-Aid didn't do anything. That turns them into little Band-Aid junkies. Bump their arm? BAND-AID. Slight grazing of the knee? BAND-AID. Someone called them fat? BAND-AID. The problem is that Band-Aids cost a lot of money (especially designer ones; you pay a huge markup for Dora to appear on your Band-Aids and there are fewer of them in the box), and coddling your little one with a Band-Aid any time he drops his ice cream cone will make him into a SOFT, FINESSE PLAYER. That's no good. When my kids get booboos, I throw rocks at them now. Just to coarsen the kids up. YOU GOTTA PLAY HURT.

Seriously though, if you want to cure your kids of Band-Aid addiction, only buy the old school fabric bandages, the ones that adhere to your skin like duct tape. They're boring and they're murder to pull off. Your kid will begin airing out hatchet wounds in no time, especially if you threaten them with the BIG fabric bandage, the one the size of a granola bar. Those Band-Aids are awesome. I feel like an NBA player wearing SPEED PATCHES on his elbows.

By the way, they have to make Band-Aids with less flimsy waste. Whenever you use a Band-Aid, you end up with three pieces of garbage that weigh a collective .0005 ounces. They just flutter about in the air for hours at a time. Horrible.



Across the 4 major North American sports, what is the most common last name?

Williams. Williams is the third most common last name in America (trailing behind #1 Smith and #2 Johnson), and it's the #1 most common name among African-Americans, who make up the majority of players in the NFL and NBA. I think that both the NHL and MLB have too many international players to make a dent in the dominance of Williams. (FUN FACT: the top Hispanic last name is Garcia.) The Jacksonville Jaguars alone have employed roughly 5,000 Williamses over the years.


I keep waiting for white people from Utah to start ruining last names the way they have first names. Someone in a Johnson family in Utah will change their kid's last name to Jonnsyn, just to jazz things up a bit. You just watch.


What happens to the world if Beyonce is kidnapped?

But she's too FIERCE to be kidnapped! One hip shake and the kidnappers would be completely immobilized by her fabulousness. At least that is what my colleagues over at Gawker have said. I imagine that the ransom would be delivered in a tasteful, leather-bound Gucci suitcase. Once rescued, Beyonce would re-issue a deluxe version of "Survivor" with new lyrics that address her kidnapping directly. Your girlfriend would make you buy 70 copies of it.


By the way, I know I used up my one HateSong entry on "Paradise by the Dashboard Light," but "Survivor" also blows. It's just Beyonce singing as fast as she possibly can to disguise the fact that the song is so terrible. They couldn't find an actual keyboard to play that song on, instead of a Fisher Price cat piano? And lyrics are emo horseshit. So you got dumped. You weren't a P.O.W. GET OVER IT, MISSY.


Is there anything worse than the 15 character team-name limit that most fantasy football leagues have adopted? There is almost no worse feeling than spending an obscenely long time coming up with the perfect team name, then having said name pop into your head, spending the next few minutes smiling to yourself smugly about how witty and clever your team name is, imaging the look of defeat on your friends faces when they realize how fuckin' awesome your name is, and that their team name is shit in comparison, then to have the rug ripped from under your feet when the name comes up 1-2 letters too long.

Inevitably you always try deleting spaces or figuring out which letter or two can be eliminated while still packing the same punch, but it never sounds nearly as good. Ultimately you end up settling on some stupid pun nickname like 'Scobee Snacks'...those names are the worst.


I think that the bastards at Yahoo deliberately enforce character limits so that you don't go using a naughty team name, which is complete horseshit. Fantasy football is an annoying, time-consuming game that wastes your money and makes you angry. The LEAST you can do is let me name my team A KISS BEFORE DYING STARRING AARON HERNANDEZ. Don't deprive me of the one goddamn pleasure this game offers. I have so many lame, tired Hernandez puns that will just go to waste! That's bad for the environment. There are starving kids in India who don't have ANY bad Aaron Hernandez jokes of their own. Why are we needlessly throwing them away?



How much would people lose their shit if one of the major fantasy websites (yahoo, espn, etc.) completely shut down and/or wiped out all recorded stats for the season? For maximum backlash, it would have to be well enough into the season so people can't reasonably calculate all of the past stats or start fresh, but not so close to the end of the season that the league winner was already known.


I think people would lose their minds online and rant and rave to friends and write angry letters to Yahoo and all that. But I don't think people would take up arms and burn down Yahoo headquarters or anything (even though they should!). In general, all of my fantasy football emotions are internalized. I piss and moan about Chris Johnson IN MY HEAD, but I don't end up reacting in any kind of proactive manner, because I'm lazy and I don't want to give Chris Johnson the satisfaction of making me do MORE legwork. I just brood and stew and when my old lady asks what's wrong I scream YOU WOULDN'T GET IT IF I TOLD YOU, WOMAN. And then I have to go sleep on the lawn.

Deep down, I fear a complete shutdown and memory wipeout of many aspects of my digital life: my email, my Twitter feed, all my bookmarks for looking at naked people. Every time I sign in to Gmail, there's a little bit of me that fears that the Inbox will be GONE, that Russian hackers will finally have come to ruin our shit. It will happen one day. One day, this whole thing will get shut down and I will run around my street buck naked smearing peanut butter on my body because I don't know what else to do.


My wife and I end up watching a lot of HGTV - a bit more than I would like. And on nearly every one of those shows is some stupid discussion of how they need a big open kitchen because they "love to entertain." Who really loves to entertain?

I hate having people over at my house. Entertaining means buying an excessive amount of food and drink, cleaning and making sure the house looks nice. Then you have to spend the whole time catering to everyone else, making sure they've had enough to eat/drink and are having a good time, all the while worrying that they are going to spill or break something. Then when they leave, you have a huge mess to clean up. There is nothing fun about entertaining. (I do like going to other people's houses though.)


I used to agree with this. When I was a kid, my parents would throw dinner parties and I would LOATHE them. I would stay up in the TV room in a pair of khakis until my mom forced me to come down the stairs and limply shake hands with some old ladies. I hated every second of having company over and I promised myself I would never turn into some boring old person who spends four hours at a dinner table sipping coffee and talking about interest rates.

But then you get older and you have kids and your attitude changes. It's nice to have people over sometimes because a) Their kids can occupy your kids, and the kids can all piss off downstairs together and leave you alone, b) It's an easy way of getting people to compliment you ("Your house is so warm and inviting! This orzo salad is TERRIFIC!"), and c) It gives you someone new to look at. If you stay cooped up in your house with your wife and kids for an extended period of time, you become desperate to see new people. It's not that you grow to dislike your family, you just have to break up the routine a bit. And that's how you end up inviting the neighbors over to swill white wine and eat mixed nuts. I'm suddenly an old person who spends four hours at a dinner table and talking about interest rates and I'm somehow okay with it. IT'LL HAPPEN TO YOU.


In response to an old Funbag, a reader suggested that trains are the worst driving obstruction you can run into. False. It is drawbridges.


I can't argue with that. Sailboats can go to hell.


Why do bachelorette parties consist of so many penis-shaped objects? When you're dating a girl it is like pulling teeth to get her to play with your penis, but all of a sudden for her bachelorette party she wants every object around her to be penis shaped? It does not make sense to me.


It's strictly to embarrass the bride and force her to spend one night of the engagement process not being a tightass. Brides are extremely neurotic people. They have to plan the wedding and find a dress and piss off their bridesmaids and worry about everyone in the church staring at them and whispering mean shit when they walk down the aisle. They are a yearlong nervous breakdown. And that's why Tiffany, the maid of honor, will make the bride drink spiked Ecto-cooler from a plastic dong all night.

Grooms need no such loosening up, which is why you rarely see vagina-themed bachelor parties. BRO DRINK FROM THIS VULVA STRAW HAHAHAHAHA


What is the most satisfying item to sneak into a movie theater?

Liquor or drugs. I'm sure sneaking in a pizza would be fun, but then you have to worry about getting caught as you eat it. The smell gets everywhere. Slip some booze into your cup and the usher will be none the wiser! Until you piss 50 times and begin screaming epithets at Ryan Gosling up on the screen. YOU JUST GOTTA SHOW EVERYONE YOUR ABS, EH YOU FUCKER?



What song do you think the most people know the lyrics to by heart with 100% accuracy? And not like, "Happy Birthday To You," or "Rock and Roll Part 2," but an actual song released by a band with actual lyrics.

I was gonna say "Satisfaction," but then I sung it to myself and got tripped up on "When I'm drivin' in my car, and I'm blergh and blergh and radio and blerghing blergh da blergh... I can't get no! NONONO!" So even that song is too complicated lyrically to qualify. It has to be something with very, very basic lyrics. And few of them, all spoken relatively clearly. That's why I think it's "I Feel Good" by James Brown. It's like someone turned one page of a Dr. Seuss book into a full song. OWWWWWW!!



Whenever I'm throwing some stuff in the oven, and I rip off some aluminum foil to put on the pan so not everything sticks to it, I feel like every single time I rip the PERFECT amount. Do I have the world's most useless superpower or does this happen with everyone?

Most people pull out the foil and match it to the length of the pan before ripping. But I don't do that because measuring is for the weak. I go with my gut, which is how I end up with a sheet of foil that's three inches too short. CRIMINY!



What are the odds any given rental car was used in a drive by?

Much lower than the odds that someone got a blowjob in the front seat.


If every time you stood to take a piss there was a 1/1000 chance you would get a bumblebee sting on the tip of your penis, would you still stand up?


Of course not. I would pee INSIDE the toilet to prevent a penile bee sting (especially on a Greyhound bus!). Here is every man's priority list of things to protect:

1. Penis

2. Television

3. Family

You're not gonna pee standing up if you know it could lead to something so intensely traumatic and painful. Although I suppose your penis is always vulnerable when you stand up. A dog could come and just bite the thing off at any moment. Sleep well!



Solo at a bar, low key atmosphere, quiet music in the background, sun still up - headphones acceptable?

So long as you're not typing on a portable typewriter, that seems okay.

Every time I go on some trip by myself, I romanticize the idea of going to a bar and sitting alone and just being with my thoughts. REAL WRITER LIKE. I could even chat up the bartender and swap life philosophies! Then I sit down for 30 seconds and end up bored out of my skull. And the bartender is a dick. Even looking up at SportsCenter doesn't help because SportsCenter is awful now.



Are Tevas making a comeback? I'm at the braves-dbacks and everybody and their brother is wearing them.

They are? BURN THAT STADIUM. I won't allow Tevas to make a comeback. They are specifically designed to induce waves of nausea in other people. You may as well write I HAVE GIVEN UP across your chest when you wear them. They accentuate the most disgusting aspects of people's feet: hairy toes, crusty heel skin, etc. I grew up during the Tevas Boom of the 1990s and they were dark, horrible times. I refuse to let it happen again.


I think (hope, really) that your game is likely not a sign of a growing cultural trend because people dress horribly at baseball games.


Back in 1995, a woman named Michelle Hines was doing a study through the University of Michigan titled "Peristaltic Action." She worked with a few nutritionists and starting eating a high-fiber diet, in addition to taking metamucil. Flash forward to the day of poop—She goes to a local bowling alley, sets up her video camera, and proceeds to drop trou. She waddled and shat for 26 feet, the exact length of her colon.


Please note that Justin sent me photographic evidence of this study. You do not want to see it. Only Tevas are more disturbing to look at. (Ed. Note: Turns out it was a hoax/art project. Thank god.)


A few years ago I was driving down I-95 through South Carolina (shithole). It was early afternoon in the middle of the week, and then all of a sudden there is the Goodyear blimp floating along. So obviously we pulled over and just watched it go. I regret nothing.


It's like spotting a celebrity. OH MY GOD THERE IT IS! I yearn for a return to the days of luxury zeppelin travel, with Indiana Jones and I cruising above the Alps and foiling Nazis while soaking in first class blimp accommodations.

I am instantly drawn to blimps and/or spotlights whenever I'm driving along a road. Ever see spotlights at night and fight the urge to follow them? It's like a tractor beam. THERE ARE BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE WHERE THAT LIGHT IS, I KNOW IT.

Email of the week time.


One cool thing about the countryside in Texas is that fucking awesome mesquite trees just grow and drop their delicious-smoke creating wood all over the place. I grab a few logs for my barbecue and throw it in the smoker but then realize that I've packed it wrong. I start pulling out logs when I feel a prick on my finger. It was, at first, kinda like I had grabbed a thorn. I drop the log and say, "Fuck!" There's a fucking scorpion on it.

My finger starts to go numb. My friends tell me to go inside and call their friend because he got stung on the toe once, and he's still alive. So I call him and describe the scorpion to him, and he says that I should be fine. In fact, he said that the foot that got stung had terrible arthritis in it, but after getting stung, the pain went away. And you know what? After about fifteen minutes, my finger started to feel fine. In fact, it felt great. It was like my finger, and only my finger, was high. After drinking throughout the day and recounting my story, I started recommending getting stung to people, cause my finger felt so great. So, in the end I guess it worked out. Oh, and we killed the fuck out of that scorpion with a huge blow torch (cause that's what you use to start a smoker in Texas).


Can I get the scorpion sting high without the actual scorpion? What if I smoked the tail?

Drew Magary writes for Deadspin and Gawker. He's also a correspondent for GQ. Follow him on Twitter @drewmagary and email him at You can also buy Drew's book, Someone Could Get Hurt, through his homepage.

Image by Sam Woolley.