My birthday is tomorrow. I turn 33. WOOOHOOOOO NAIL ME TO A CROSS! I've said this before: At this point in life, birthdays are a lose-lose situation. If you don't tell people in the office that you have a birthday, you're the antisocial dick who caused everyone to miss out on cake. But if you're the sort of person who happily announces to everyone within earshot that it's your birthday, just know I hope you go to Hell. Especially if you throw a birthday party for yourself. There's a special place reserved in the netherworld for people over the age of 21 who throw birthday parties for themselves. You ladies out there are particularly awful about this. It's YOUR birthday. Only YOU give a shit. Only YOU are gonna get a free drink or two out of it. Don't think I can't see past your ruse. Don't think I don't know that your little birthday party gambit is merely an attempt to Hoover up undeserved attention. You don't deserve a birthday party. You deserve to sit at home with your cat, watching bad romcoms and weeping over your now inevitable old maidenhood. ACCEPT YOUR CRUEL FATE AND DON'T MAKE ME BUY YOU AN APPLETINI.
As always, my birthday gift list remains the same this year:
-No disapproving looks when I eat pepperoni right out of the bag
-Someone else empties the fucking dishwasher, including drying the bottom of the bowls when they still have a little bit of water pooled in the rim, which is annoying as fuck
Let's hit the questions.
Bobby Big Wheel:
So, your challenge reminded me of a similar bet two of my friends had in college. I asked one of them if he remembered it and here's our conversation:
Me: I was wondering if you remembered the story of when [redacted] bet you that you couldn't whack off in a minute.
Friend: Oh yeah... that's not really how it went down... It was a challenge to see how fast I could do it. It was like 3 minutes from standing in the hall outside my dorm room to outside with a paper towel with jiz on it.
Me: Haha. I thought of it when I saw this.
Friend: I've kicked this dude's ass.
Me: Less than 59 seconds?
Friend: I can beat that, and I hit 18x in one day.
18 times! He must have access to some type of super-lube.
Indeed. And that superlube is called GROSS LIES. Come on. Eighteen times? You could light a bonfire with that much friction. I could see a dozen, maybe. But even with lotion, that's gonna strip the skin right off your dong. Not that it would stop you from continuing. I've played hurt. That's how horny men are. We'll happily keep going at it even when skin is visibly tearing. But eighteen times? Sooner or later, you gotta eat.
At first, I thought that you had omitted the year 2000 from your Favorite Albums of the Last Decade list. Sure, since there was no year zero and all, the Millennium officially started in 2001, not 2000. But nope. You clearly said "five favorite albums from the past ten years" which would most definitely include said year. Well, prepare for your "[Delightful!] little music exchange" to get two tons of shit poured on its face.
How, how, HOW do you put any Radiohead album NOT named Kid A in your Top 5??
Because I didn't like it as much as five other albums?
Kid A was released in Oct. of 2000, putting it most definitely in the time frame suggested. This is akin to total lunacy on your part. Don't tell me you picked Radiohead and The Hold Steady because Rolling Stone said they were cool.
I know you disclaimered your picks by saying it was "favorite," not "best," but c'mon man. Don't put the band who made the most outstanding album of the past 25 years on your list, and leave off the most outstanding album of the past 25 years. See?? You've made me sound like Jack Black's character in High Fidelity, and I fucking hate sounding like that.
This is why I said favorite. Those were the albums I liked. Why did I like "In Rainbows" more than "Kid A"? I have no fucking clue. I have control over what I like and what I don't. If I did, I'd like mayonnaise, because everyone puts it on sandwiches without my permission and that makes my life a living Hell. A LIVING HELL. So quit bossing me around, Mr. Music Hitler. I'm free to think Kid A makes me want to fucking kill myself.
Andy (who enclosed this photo):
I'm proud of you. You've come a long way.
Oh, you fucker. AND ON MY BIRTHDAY EVE, YOU MONSTER?!
No idea if you can use this or not, but CNN ran a story about a 911 operator from Quincy, Mass. who responded to his own house fire.
One of the first firefighters on the scene was his brother, Tom.
You have to read the story to really wrap your head around it. The guy is at work handling 911 calls. Then he gets a call reporting a fire. And when he takes down the address, he realizes, HOLY FUCK, THAT'S MY HOUSE. That is heartbreaking and brilliant all at once. It would have even FUNNIER if his own dad was calling to report that he was being murdered.
Is there anything that makes a baseball player look more like a pussy than when they show him wearing goggles during the champagne celebration? I mean, come on, could you imagine Pete Rose, Mickey Mantle, or Ty Cobb wearing those things?
Agreed. But, in the interest of fairness and balance, I consulted with our in-house baseball cum dumpster, Will Leitch, to defend his cherished little Ecksteins over the practice:
I'm no expert on what makes someone a "pussy," (Ed. Note: Because he is one! TEE HEE HEE!) but I'd have to think protecting your eyes for a sport so reliant on them that Rogers Hornsby, one of the greatest hitters of all time, refused to even watch movies lest they mess up his vision, is simply being smart. (You see, baseball players work for contracts that teams actually honor the length of. It's worth remaining healthy for.) And if you can imagine Pete Rose wearing this, you can certainly imagine him wearing goggles.
That said, the important issue of concussion safety aside — because, hey, let's just toss terrifying brain injuries aside! — there's not a lot of excuse for this.
See, I think the Gazoo helmet on David Wright is less of a pussy move than the champagne goggles. At least he wears it for something that happens on the field. Also, people are throwing projectiles at his head at 90 mph. I'd wear a fucking iron lung at the plate if I played baseball. I've never heard of any player being blinded permanently by champagne. It's crap. Buy a science class eyewash station for the clubhouse and suck it the fuck up. And Leitch, the next time you call me a Matthew Berry guy will be your last.
Also, Roger Hornsby never went to movies? I know those old timey Nickelodeon movies are like staring at a strobe light. But still, what a gash.
Ever since MJD went to Yahoo, I miss the Sunday Smorgasbord. Is there any way you could just rip that off? You could call it the "Sunday Buffet" or something equally lazy.
You overestimate my work ethic. I wouldn't even change the name.
I have a friend that doesn't read Deadspin or KSK. I had him read your book (he borrowed it from me after I borrowed it from someone that actually purchased it). He claimed that he probably wouldn't like you. He said you sounded like an asshole that was probably way too into himself.
Then I showed him the picture of you holding the plane in your living room/batcave. He said that you looked more like a "doughy goober" than an egotistical jackass. Just thought you'd like to know, should your paths cross some day.
That sounds accurate. True story: in college, one of my teammates on the football team demanded my nickname be Doughboy.
Teammate: You're Doughboy.
Me: But I don't like that nickname.
Teammate: Tough shit.
Me: Come on. Pick something else. Anything's better than Doughboy.
Teammate: Fine. From now on, your nickname is Loaf.
Me: Wait, that's even worse.
And that's what he called me for the next three years. College is overrated.
Just wanted to point out that there's a name for shitting and vomiting at the same time, as depicted in J Dugan's story: Gargoyling.
Urban Dictionary begs to differ, Kevin.
1. The act of painting one's body silver, then at night turning on a light and commencing to jerk in front of a window. When people pass by they will see the image of a gargoyle.
2. It's when you go to the toilet in some ramdom bathroom and you need to drop a deuce but the toilet is so gross that you perch yourself on it while your taking a dump.
Acceptable terms for simultaneous vomiting and shitting appear to be Fire Hydranting and Seesawing.
I usually like to jerk off while in the shower, don't judge, I shit naked too. Anywho I was whacking it in the shower when I was rudely interrupted by my wife, not once, not twice, but three times. So my balls are look like a couple of smurfs doing MMA and 30 minutes have passed and I like myself a hot shower. I decide to finish the mission, and give myself a little help in the prostate area to speed it along. Just as I start to spat and wash my latest shower vixen down the drain, I fucking black out fall out of the shower onto the tile like a ton a bricks. My wife comes rushing in and there I lay, my asshole throbbing like nobody's business, my cocknballs swollen and me coming too. I had to lie to her, I had to make some lame shit up and she bought it. I laid there for nearly 15 minutes until my asshole stopped hurting. You're goddam right I do it again! DAMN RIGHT!
30 minutes? Self-fingering? Blackouts? Who taught you how to masturbate? A woman?
AD writes in about Alice in Chains:
True story: William DuVall was passed out on Jerry Cantrell's tour bus. Jerry poked him in the throat with one of Layne's used needles at 4:05 am, April 15th, 2002.
The rest is science. FUCKING ROCK SCIENCE!
If I had a nickel for every time a friend of mine stabbed me in the throat with an infected needle from a junkie who died ten days earlier…
If you secretly watched 100 people open a cup of pudding, how many do you think would lick the little foil lid? Is it part of human DNA to do this because I've never seen anyone not do it, myself included?
I not only lick the pudding cup lid, I do it with yogurt, cream cheese, hummus, AND my kid's baby food so long as it's mashed fruit and not mashed vegetables. How can you resist? That's bonus food right there. Like money lying on the sidewalk.
I hope some other degenerate reader of yours wrote this to you. If not I am the only person fucked up enough to both read your column and see the movie Kinsey. Kinsey was the duded who invented the idea of studying sex. Anyways he goes around and interviews all these weirdo sex fiends. One of the guys (after bragging about how he has banged like 14 of his cousins and 75 children) says "watch this" and whips out his flaccid dick and jerks off in like 12 seconds. You gotta see it, it is very impressive.
No, I do not have to see that. I really don't. By the way, Laura Linney is teh sexy. Ever see You Can Count On Me? There's this scene where she's banging Matthew Broderick, and all you see is her naked back, and even her naked back is pretty hot. Gotta like a chick with a hot back.
Chief's season ticket holder here. I've had the same family of meat gazers behind me for 15 years. If actually paying to watch the Chiefs wasn't bad enough, this year one of the college aged kids behind me has decided that he is going to try his hand at Berman's shtick, ALL FUCKING GAME. I'm talking all the "whoops" the "tic tic tic tic tics" the never funny nicknames. Any advice on dealing with this? Arrowhead does have one of those anonymous fan narc lines.
Jesus, that's awful. I'd sell my tickets. You're not gonna miss anything the next three years anyway. Go home. Listen to Kid A. Fingerbang your own butt in the shower. Anything else is an improvement.