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What It Really Means To Be Pussywhipped

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

Your letters:


I was tossing around the idea of a Vegas trip next spring with some of my friends. One of my friends declined immediately saying he would rather go on a vacation with his girlfriend. I was prepared for this to happen at some point, but I'm still only 23 years old. What should I do about this? Because it's only going to get worse.


There isn't anything you can do about it. I guess you could call him a pussy or something, but he's just telling you the truth. I assume he'd do both vacations if he had the scratch for it. Every guy who has a girlfriend and a surplus of unmarried friends will always end up being accused by those same friends of being pussywhipped. But he'll eventually have his revenge a decade later, because EVERY guy ends up pussywhipped to varying degrees. When you're young, you don't really understand that. You're just like, "Hey! Steve wants to stay home and fuck his girlfriend tonight! HE'S PUSSYWHIPPED!" You have no gauge of what constitutes an uneven relationship with a woman and what doesn't. You just know you feel rejected by your friend, because he's made it clear he'd rather fuck his girlfriend than hang out with you. But OF COURSE he wants to do that. That's why you get a girlfriend to begin with.

Once everyone around you gets married (and you do as well), you get a much clearer picture of what it means to be truly pussywhipped. For example, I knew a guy once who cooked every meal for his wife, and he had to cook a new meal every night because she didn't like eating leftovers. THAT is being pussywhipped.


Why is it after a long night of drinking there are a TON of boogers in my nose? Was I afraid to pick them at the bar, in the cab, or at home last night? Did I just not think of it? Is there excess booger creation when consuming alcohol? All I know is I went out last night, got after it, and woke up this morning as if my nose relocated to 1849 in Northern California.

Because drinking makes you dehydrated, which turn makes your snot dehydrated, which creates the treasure trove of magic nose goblins housed inside your sinuses when you wake up in the morning. This is why, if I'm shitfaced, I make a point of drinking as much water as humanly possible before I go to sleep. Helps prevent most hangovers and unwanted booger surpluses. Sometimes, when I'm at the bar and I've hit the drinking wall, I have to argue with myself about whether or not I should ask the bartender for a glass of water. I feel like a complete pussy asking a bartender for a glass of water. Yet that's completely irrational. If I want water, what the fuck do I care what the bartender thinks of my tolerance? OH BUT IT MATTERS. I also still get mad at myself if I leave any bar or restaurant with a drink unfinished. I don't really want the last half of that beer. But if I don't down it? GASH.

You may also want to invest in a humidifier for your place. Dry air makes lots of boogers and can also make your skin dry and cracked, which could then cause to you to waste precious jerking lotion on actual skin care. DON'T LET THAT HAPPEN. That would be horrible. Make sure your air is properly moist, particularly in the winter months. Sometimes, we'll open the windows at night during the winter and I'll wake up with a goddamn geology class inside my nostril.



Why is it I can watch repeats of King of the Hill, Family Guy and American Dad on a half dozen cable channels like FX, Cartoon Network, and TBS but the Simpsons only airs in local syndication at a time when I'm not home from work? With over 400 episodes you could have an entire network that shows nothing BUT Simpsons repeats, instead the few times I get to see it on my local channel its something from the past 2-3 years instead of something from the Golden Age 15 years ago.


I searched around for an answer to this but came away empty-handed. I assume the main reason The Simpsons aren't on cable is because it would be too expensive for a lot of networks. The show may also have exclusive deals with syndicators to keep the program off of cable networks. It almost certainly has a better chance of reaching cable once they stop making new episodes for good in 3041. For now, you'll just have to spring for the DVD's or a DVR.


A car blew up in front of my office in Boston today. It was awesome.

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Fucking A!


Have you ever noticed how racist the Rebel Alliance was in Star Wars? Chewbacca takes part in the rescue of the Princess right along with Han Solo and Luke, successfully pilots the ship while those two man the guns against the tie fighters, co-pilots the ship during the dramatic battle to destroy the Death Star-and yet has to sit there like a fool and watch while Luke and Han get medals. Where the hell is Chewie's medal?!


Chewie turned the medal down in favor of a fresh Bantha carcass because he is a BEASTLY SAVAGE OF LOW INTELLECT.


I have a Cadbury Orange Cream Egg in my desk drawer. It's been there since Easter. Is it safe to eat?


A life without risk is no life at all, friend.


So my in-laws went to Switzerland and brought us some dark chocolate as a souvenir. We have three kids - my wife a) tells the kids about it and b) gives them each a huge piece, which they proceed to inhale. Totally undiscriminating. A delicacy wasted on barbarians. Don't you hate to see kids eat quality foods?


I do. Your wife was way out of line doing that, because the kids will obviously fail to appreciate it on the level that you will. Even worse, the child may grow accustomed to such fancy pants items and demand only that version of the food.

For example, my kids both eat Kraft macaroni and cheese. Only one time, my wife bought the Annie's organic brand, which I bet totally isn't organic but looks organic so that you'll feel a better about being some asshole who eats shells and cheese for dinner. Anyway, this shit is easily double the price of the Kraft stuff, if not more. So I give this stuff to the kids one night, then the next week I give them Kraft and they won't touch it. They'll only eat Annie's now. WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU LITTLE SHITS TO TURN DOWN LOWER QUALITY FOODSTUFFS? YOU KNOW HOW LUCKY YOU ARE I EVEN DEIGN TO GIVE YOU FOOD? I SHOULD FUCKING LOCK YOU UP IN THE ATTIC AND GIVE YOU HARDTACK.


So never give children quality food. Give them crap.


So I was just about to head back to work from my apartment where I had spent my lunch break. Two guys knocked on my door, and told me they were FBI. Apparently, there was a fire last night at the Islamic center right across the street from my apartment building.

They asked me if I had heard or seen anything. I explained that I watched the Saints and '9ers game last night while pounding beers. And that I passed out after the game was over, into a deep drunken sleep. They said the incident occurred around 1am, well after I had turned in.

And when I got back home from work for the day, some guys were still outside and going door-to-door looking for people to question. I'm feeling a little paranoid now, even though I told these guys the complete truth. Did I come off as suspicious? Did they believe me?

They took down my name and address. I hope my cell phone isn't tapped now.

I know a bunch of people who have worked in government and had to petition for government security clearances, and so the FBI (or NSA or whatever) once came to our door to interview my wife about a friend of hers applying for a job. And that would freak me out, to think there are people out there, doing a thorough background check on me, or checking on me because they're checking on someone else. I mean, JESUS. You could find skeletons in anyone's closet. Would they interview prep school people? Would they know I skeeted on one of the teacher's doorknobs? Would they arrest me and throw my ass in jail? They could totally fuck me if they wanted to. Skeeting on doorknobs IS illegal. I can't go to jail. I HAVE A FAMILY. I begin envisioning an entire command center in Langley watching security footage of me masturbating on some airplane somewhere, reading every blog post I've written and taking it literally, and plotting the exact way to come to my home in seven armored SUV's to arrest me. Scary shit.


/perspires madly

I also freak out any time I think about my credit history. I imagine a cabal of shady bank assholes gathering together in Alabama, calling me and telling me they know about that time I subscribed to Savanna Samson's website and demanding 40% interest to keep that shit quiet. That call is coming one day. I can feel it.




What is your position on eating while taking a dump? I have a friend whose teenage son combines his breakfast with taking his morning shit. When you use the kid's john, you see Pop-Tart wrappers, yogurt containers, and juice boxes.

While I salute his multi-tasking, the thought of eating while taking a dump seems very wrong.


I was eating a banana once and I had to urgently shit, so I brought the banana with me into the shitter at home because I didn't want to put that shit down on the counter. There are certain foods I can't put down until I've consumed them entirely, like bananas and slices of pizza. I will burn in Hell before I relinquish my grip on an unfinished piece of pizza.

Anyway, I take this banana into the shitter and keep eating while I'm pushing out a big brown steam engine, and my wife walks in to grab some Q-Tips or something. She sees me with the banana, and I guess that triggered some kind of blumpkin reflex because she was fucking horrified.


HER: That's disgusting.

ME: What? I had to finish the banana.

HER: Don't eat while you're taking a shit.


I don't like it when my shits are interrupted. I don't think I'm being unreasonable. Anyway, I think it's mildly acceptable to FINISH eating something if you have to run to the can. But if you're actively combining snacking and shitting… that's fucked up. Like if you have to get utensils involved? Yogurt with a spoon? Yeah, that's disgusting. I have to agree. There's a difference between eating a granola bar on the can and bringing in a plate of eggs benedict with you.



Took this picture at Union Station in Chicago during morning rush hour. I'd like to think this man invented a time machine at work and today is the day he tries to go back to medieval England, but he could also be insane.

Illustration for article titled What It Really Means To Be Pussywhipped

Why can't he be both? I've always wanted to buy one of those swords, but when you see one in some dipshit gift shop, they're always far too expensive. I can't justify paying $700 for a bastard sword. The sword market really needs to come down to reality.



Some friends and I were chatting about what the best pound per pound human vs. animal fight would be. No weapons. Just bare hands. And in an octagon. I think a human vs. 3 deer would be a great fight, some others were: 100 humans vs. an elephant, 5 humans vs. a moose, 180 rats vs. a human. Thoughts?


I think the human versus the three deer would be a dud, because the deer would just constantly run away from the human, because deer are fucking cowards. I'd like to see two guys take on a giraffe, only because I think there's real fun to be had in seeing a really tall animal get dragged to the ground and punched and stuff. But I think the ideal man vs. beast MMA match would have to be a one-on-one affair. I was thinking of one man versus an adolescent bear, or whatever age a bear is when it's not quite old enough to weigh two tons and tear you limb from limb. Because bears can stand on their hind legs and shit, making the matchup feel more equal. But I think the ultimate match would probably be man vs. young orangutan. Fully grown orangutans are four to seven times stronger than humans. So you'd have to get a young orangutan who hasn't done any weightlifting or P90X crosstraining yet, so he'd be just about equal strength with his opponent. I still think the monkey would win, because it wouldn't be afraid to bite and smear shit over the man and what not. Also, I think I'd privately get a sadistic kick out of seeing an animal beat the shit out of guy. Seems like needed vengeance.


I wish "Speed Weed" would co-produce my life.

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I think it co-produces the life of pretty much anyone who reads this site.

Brian H.:

I found my old Nike Shark cleats while cleaning up the garage this weekend. They were from a time three knee surgeries ago when I still played manly sports.

Any sport without cleats is for pussies. It got me thinking, combat boots kick ass but what if our soldiers and Marines wore cleats?


Why not have combat boots with optional screw-in cleats? Best of both worlds.

I loved putting on cleats when I was a kid. Totally made me feel like I was in a Nike ad. LOOK AT ME! I HAVE CLEATS ON. I AM A FUCKING ATHLETE. Then I'd try walking in them out in the gym hallways and fall on my ass six times. Not an athlete.


I also was a big proponent of taping up before football games (Even though I rarely saw the field). Really made me feel like a gladiator, though I dunno why. It's just fucking tape. It's stupid.


So I've come to the conclusion that the most important aspect of a good porn scene, for me, is the presence of a penis that most resembles my own. I'm well aware that statement sounds very gay. But I just can't get down with uncircumsised porno. This is why I can't watch black porn. It's not because I'm racist. There's just no way I can pretend that that's my penis this beautiful woman is allowing into her anal cavity.


Oh, so ALL black penises look alike to you, do they? THASS RAYCESS AND GAYCESS!!!!

I'd just like to know why the cameraman always feels compelled to go tight on the genitals for ten minutes at the end of ANY porn scene. I don't even know what the fuck I'm looking at. It's just meat. That could be two horses fucking for all I can tell. Pull back, for God's sake. It's a camera, not a goddamn microscope. It's like I'm doing labwork.


When I was in my youth, I also got very mad at any porno that skipped the undressing part before the sex. Like, the couple starts kissing, then BOOM! He's licking her pussy. Bastards! The removal of the skirt and panties is a vital part of foreplay in self-gratification. You can't just edit it out. Where did the panties go? Who took them off? WHY MUST I SUFFER SUCH ERRORS IN CONTINUITY? Hire a goddamn script supervisor!


Are there any enhancements to products you wish you had thought of before they became reality? As a life-long lover and user of ketchup, I wish I had invented the upside-down ketchup bottle. It kind of pisses me off whenever I use it.


Probably the FoxBox. I remember the days before the FoxBox, when they only showed you the score of a football game every ten minutes or so. I don't know how I tolerated that. I see an old game on ESPN Classic with no score graphic and I immediately want to kick the TV over.

I once worked on the Hershey advertising account, and one of the products they had was Hershey's Syrup. As you know, Hershey's Syrup is fucking awesome. But for years and years, the bottle always had that pull-up stopper that everyone hated. You'd pour out the syrup, then a little bit of it would seep through the stopper, and then the spout would be all sticky for the rest of the goddamn year. So I went into a meeting once and they showed us the prototype for a new flip-up spout that got rid of the stopper (that new top is now standard on all bottles of Hershey's Syrup). And I remember seeing it and feeling like a fucking idiot. How could I have not thought of that before? All this time, I've been bitching about the spout, yet the obvious solution never occurred to me. Horrible.


Time for your email of the week. Ethan, hit up the tips line for your prize. It's another GREAT MOMENT IN FART HISTORY.


I was 11 years old during the first World Baseball Classic, and being a huge baseball fan, my dad decided to try the whole father-son baseball trip thing out. Being ten, I was ecstatic, ready to soak up whatever I could from my dad while taking in some of my favorite players at the International Level (turns out the whole WBC was complete shit). We flew to Arizona, and upon arriving, my dad, who went to Arizona State decided to show me some of the stuff we couldn't do back in New York City. The first of these things was In N Out Burger, something that, as a fat kid, was revelatory.

Following that, he decided we could try Horseback Riding through the desert (totally gay I know). The morning of the ride, we piled in our Best Western buffet breakfasts and set out to go riding, which was pretty awesome for the first half hour or so. It was a tour guide, my dad and I, roaming around the desert, I felt like a total badass. We were onto the Home Stretch, and I felt like I was on top of the world, until, all of a sudden, my dad who was in front of me got raised way up in the air by his horse in a violent motion, making an absolutely horrible noise, I'm talking audible genocide, and in turn, my horse went up on it's two hind legs, replicated my dad's horses roar and went shooting off into the Arizona desert, leaving me on the ground after a violent fall, gashed and bleeding. I was completely shaken, but upon counseling from our guide and my dad, I begrudgingly got back on and finished the ride. Naturally, my dad gave the shaken tour guide who thought she had done something wrong a generous tip, and me and my dad got back into the rental car, eager to go to town on some more Double Double's.

We were pulling out of the parking lot when my dad said "Hey, Ethan, I've got to tell you something... uh, that whole thing was my fault." I assumed this was some kind of joke he was making to cheer me up, but he continued. "So, you know how we had that breakfast? I got a little gassy and just had to let one go out there. I farted." My dad had almost paralyzed me with a fart.


That's good parentin'.