Time for your weekly edition of the Deadspin Funbag. Got something on your mind? Email the Funbag. Today, we're covering LeBron, eating your own cum, and more.
Time for your letters:
Let's say that LeBron signed with the Thunder after this season. Would they have to fold the NBA? How many consecutive titles could LeBron and Durant reel off?
I'll preface this by saying don't think that LeBron will sign with the Thunder, only because they're in Oklahoma City, and LeBron James would rather win titles AND live in an awesome city instead of winning titles and pretending he likes living in the middle of nowhere. Given how good he is at basketball, those are two legitimate choices for him.
Also, Oklahoma City probably has a handful of stupid people who will probably say DURRR WE DON'T NEED THAT KINDA CIRCUS IN OUR NICE TOWN DURRRRR CHEMISTRY DURRRRR. And I think the NBA will secretly do everything in its power to keep LeBron in the Eastern Conference, in order to keep the entire conference from sinking into a tar pit. LeBron is the only thing keeping that half of the NBA solvent, really.
All that said, I personally would pay at least four dollars to see LeBron sign with the Thunder. Why not? Even if LeBron and Kevin Durant technically play the same position, they can clearly work out an arrangement where both men are satisfied with where they're playing and how many touches they're getting. LeBron has already done the whole "figure out how to co-exist with/outshine other star teammates" thing in Miami, so I don't see him and Durant feuding for the ball or macking on each other's road beefs or anything like that. LeBron could bully to the hoop and then kick it out to Durant to score 78 points a game, then share style tips with Westbrook once the game is over. And then Clay Bennett could surround them with two popsicle sticks to avoid paying the luxury tax. HOORAY!
They could win five or six titles together before getting sick of each other, cryptically insulting each other on Twitter, and eventually engineering a divorce. That would allow LeBron to pass Jordan's title mark, which means your nephew will have a legit argument when he says LeBron is better than Jordan and OH MY GOD WE CAN'T LET THAT HAPPEN I CAN'T LET MY CHILDHOOD SPORTS HEROES BE SURPASSED BY SOME COCKY NEW DICKHEAD GENERATION.
I would like to see LeBron join the Thunder because I am the kind of insufferable casual sports fan who pays lip service to parity but enjoys living through historic sports dynasties so I can brag about being there. Besides, nothing would be more fun than to watch LeBron leave Miami fans on the curb like old furniture. I'd laugh for days. Five hundred people will be trampled to death in the bandwagon exodus. Heat games next year will have an average attendance of four. NO ONE would feel sorry for those shitty fans. It would be a delight.
Outside of my own favorite teams, it is ALWAYS more interesting when a potential kickass free agent switches teams. Re-signing is always a letdown, and I realize I'm a disgusting hypocrite for saying that with regard to James, but it's true. Changing teams means I can spend hours cooking up all kinds of idiotic speculation. Will he like the new team? Will he like his new teammates? How quickly will Phil Jackson break his Knicks contract to coach the new team? Shit like that. I'm a sports fan, which means I am always in need of fresh bullshit fuel. So yes: LeBron to the Thunder all day. Here are my half-assed rankings for most enjoyable potential LeBron destinations. Not realistic destinations, just the most enjoyable landing spots:
2. Wizards (NOTE: Regionally biased ranking inflation!)
30. Celtics. Fuck the Celtics.
I was just reading an article about LeBron passing Jordan for the most games with something like 25 points, five rebounds, five assists, and a steal. Why do ESPN and other media outlets keep adding meaningless stats on until he passes Jordan? I mean do people even care about that?
Of course they care. Ever since Jordan retired, people have been simultaneously searching for the next Jordan (because watching Jordan was fun) and bragging about how there will never be another Jordan. Hell, they were looking for the next Jordan while Jordan was still playing:
I think Harold Miner died at some point. Anyway, Jordan is a benchmark for people like me who are just entering middle age. He is the impossible bar I've set for the next generation of sports stars, and even if they do manage to surpass Jordan, I'll probably never give them proper credit, because everything is better when you're a kid, and nothing will ever feel quite as monumental again. Getting old is horrible. I don't recommend it. You kids out there weren't alive to appreciate Jordan the way I did! My memories are more significant than your memories!
Say you're riding the subway and you lick the pole. I don't mean a dainty tongue-poke, I mean full-on tongue-to-pole make-out action, the kind of licking that can bump a G movie to PG-13 or preemptively abort a promising date. How long would it take for you to get sick?
I think it's the luck of the draw. If you lick the pole during flu season, you're probably gonna get sick the next day. But if you lick it now, you might walk away unscathed.
I was with my kid at the shoe store the other day, and he skinned his thumb on the door in the entryway. I didn't have any bandages on me, and he was screaming in agony, so I instinctively (and stupidly) licked the blood off his thumb. So I ingested both his blood AND the dirt from the side of the door. It did not taste good. But here I am, a day later, feeling fine. No Hep J for me! If you've got powerful antibodies like me, you are UNBREAKABLE. A few months ago, everyone in the family except me got the stomach flu, and I felt like a superhero.
Do you think it's better (or more prevalent) for one hot woman to hang out with uglier women, thus making herself more attractive to potential suitors? Or is it better and more common for one hot woman to hang out with other hot women in order to attract a larger throng of personality-seeking men?
I honestly don't think it matters at all. Because men are trained to be drawn to ANY large group of women, regardless of attractiveness distribution. You see a large group of women and you think, Holy shit, that's a lot of women! One of them MUST be willing to sleep with me! I like these odds! And then you go introduce yourself. It could be Laetitia Casta surrounded by eight sea lions and you'd still try to go home with at least one of the sea lions if Casta turns you down first. Fucking a sea lion isn't a bad consolation prize!
When I was single and I saw an attractive group of women, I always made a point of saying hello to the SECOND most attractive girl in the group first (at least by my internal rankings). My thinking was that the most attractive girl in the group was tired of being the focal point of all advances and was pre-programmed to tell any man approaching to fuck off. The second-most attractive girl would be OVERJOYED by my courtship, and then the most attractive girl would get jealous, and then BOOM! Threesome. I should note that this plan never actually came to fruition. Turns out the second-most attractive girl in the group isn't willing to settle for the sixth-most attractive guy in the group.
When two bonafide celebrities meet one another for the first time, do you think they bother to introduce themselves?
I think they do. First name only. "Hey, I'm George." The last name is implied. Clooney knows that you know who he is, but he's not gonna make a big THING about it. I assume that celebrities introduce themselves as a way of saying, "Hello! I'm still normal and humble and not a dick," even if that's a complete lie.
What are the worst things to not recycle? I mean, I'm pretty sure a pizza box will eventually just be lit on fire, while a jar of pickles might sit in a dump forever.
I think plastic is probably the worst thing to not recycle, because it'll never decompose. I'm more conscientious about that now. We have a bunch of plastic shit in our house, and it'll be here FOREVER, which I regret. There are four million factories out there churning out four billion plastic birthday-party-favor-bag kazoos every day, and those kazoos will never leave the Earth's surface. We should probably stop making them. So recycle your water bottle and leave the pizza box to compost if you have to. Pizza boxes never fit cleanly into the recycling bin anyway. It is pizza's only design flaw.
In general, there are too many objects in the world. I know that sounds like OLD MAN SHAKES FIST AT CLOUD, but it's true! All of the objects that humanity could ever possibly need—save for the hoverboard, of course—have been made. You can probably survive with all of the existing clothes and cars and gadgets and baby toys that we've already produced. Christmas is basically Americans handing out future garbage to one another. From now on, I'm spending my money strictly on food and booze and services that are gone the moment they're consumed. That's me feeling like I'm making a difference, even if 600,000 pounds of coal are burned to deliver that package of bacon to my store.
If everyone were to find out all the things their friends say about them when they're not around, society would immediately collapse, right?
Yes, because then you couldn't say anything about your friends behind their backs, and you would become so tightly wound that you would eventually snap.
We always look down on talking about people when they aren't around, but it's actually an important facet of human relationships. It's not always a two-faced move if you're trying to avoid big fights and hurt feelings. If I need to let off some steam about Jeremy not evenly splitting the bar tab, I need to be able to do that. Otherwise, I'm just gonna stew about it every time he comes around. Fucking cheapskate. He ordered the fancy whiskey!
Say the average human lives 78 years, and we sleep 30 percent of that, so roughly 23 years. If possible, considering you could still have an education and friends and all that, would you choose to sleep those 23 years in one big chunk (then spend the next few months catching up on all that's happened—deaths, births, new presidents, horrible new bands and clothing styles) and never have to sleep again the remainder of your life?
No, because it sucks to be awake when everyone else is asleep. I hate it. I may as well be dead. Everyone else is asleep having sexy dreams, and here I am, awake and alone. I can't even find anyone to chat with on the Internet at 3 a.m., and that's the Internet! So lonely. I'd kill myself after a year of being awake 100 percent of the time.
Do you think Babies R Us is actually laughing in their cost determination meetings? "$39.99 for a carseat protector? Aw hell, make it $49.99! Some fool will pay it."
They just jack up the price by 20 dollars every year, I swear. When I first had a kid, you could buy a decent stroller for under $100. Now? $250. Anything less and you get a pile of matchsticks. Strollers and carseats and carriers… all that shit has inflated like college tuition. And you don't have to buy any of it! Someone out there has a stroller you can probably use! But then you have to buy it off of Craigslist and worry about some unclean baby smearing boogers all over it, so your old lady makes you buy it new, and now you're broke. It's a damned racket.
All my life, I've spent an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom. The minimum trip is 15 minutes. Average is about 30 minutes. 45 minutes to an hour is not uncommon. This is not by choice. It's just the way I am, and I've tried just about everything to improve it.
Here's my question: My goal is a career in politics. How far can I go without fixing this problem? How much will it hamper my ability to participate in a major campaign? How much will it compromise my effectiveness while in office? How much respect will my staff lose for me? What's the highest office I can run for and effectively hold without solving this problem?
Is this peeing or pooping or both? If it's peeing, you may have 50 tumors inside your prostate blocking the way. If we're talking about just straight pooping, it could be a matter of diet and personal health. You sure you've done everything? Sometimes people are like "I've tried everything!" and they actually haven't tried much at all, like going to the doctor. That would probably be a good first step.
I have an embarrassingly weak bladder. One time I was out to dinner with my uncle and got up to pee so many times that my uncle finally grabbed me and said WILL YOU SIT THE HELL DOWN?! I'll pee eight times before falling asleep. It's terrible. I once got biofeedback therapy for my problem. They hook up electrodes to your butthole and have you contract your pelvic-floor muscles (this helps make the muscles stronger and reduces the urge to urinate). And for a while, I got much better. But then the therapy stopped, and now I pee 20 times a day again. I was too lazy to fix the problem permanently (again, electrodes up your butt), which probably would speak to my ability as a public servant. I would fix the schools for a year, and then let them fall apart again.
Anyway, I don't think your weak bladder/rectum would prevent you from assuming the highest offices in the land. There is no personal shortcoming that can doom you with voters. They'll vote for criminals, philanderers, crooks, liars, addicts, sexual predators, you name it. The bar is that low. So I wouldn't worry too much about the bathroom thing. Just tell voters that you need to scrub away their disease-ridden germs after shaking their hands.
If you're looking for a cab on an avenue that's going uptown (say, 3rd Ave. or Madison) and there are no taxis, doesn't it make sense to walk downtown, rather than keep going in the direction of the already-in-use cabs?
Actually, I would say no. That means you're walking in the opposite direction of your intended destination, which means you're getting farther away from it. And yet, people will walk downtown because they don't want to fall behind other people on the corner, who are also trying to hail a cab. So they walk in the opposite direction of their intended destination to out-muscle the competition. Of course, the next corner has even more people vying for cabs, so you end up walking all the way into the Atlantic Ocean to hail a cab to bring you triple the original distance.
I lived in New York for six years, and the worst feeling on earth is when you're trying to hail a cab for an hour, only to fail. Sometimes, you will walk over to a street where the cabs are going in the wrong direction, just so you can beat out fresh competition. Sometimes, you'll give up and use the subway. Sometimes, you'll just walk the 800 blocks. And many other times, you will just go the fuck back home. There are no good outcomes except for buying a 40 and getting drunk on the bus.
Wired headphones suck. These things are literally the worst. I am sitting here trying to watch some TV show on my laptop, and they are constantly getting stuck under the covers, it's pissing me off. Not to mention, have you ever tried going for a run with these things? You end up walking half the time trying to fix the damn things. Don't these billion dollar companies have an affordable solution for this? Of course they don't... Who wants to buy $200 wireless headphones, let's be real here.
I tried, for a moment, to get on board with the "overpaying for headphones" phenomenon. I walked into a store and tried out some pair of Skullcandy cans, and I was like, "I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna buy these headphones, because I like the way they sound." I was even ready to ignore the online reviews saying they sucked and trust my GUT. And then I saw the price and my inner dad wouldn't allow it. No fucking way. I bought some other pair for $30 and I hate them. GARBAGE FOREVER.
These weren't even wireless baller headphones I wanted to buy. I think a decent pair of Bose wireless headphones will cost you, oh, call it $950,000. It's not right. I want to feel as cool as someone rocking a pair of wireless Beats cans without going into hock for the next eight years. All I ask is that everything in the world cost less than five dollars. Perfectly reasonable request.
I'm in the middle of class right now, and I really have to do a number two. Like really bad, post-Taco Bell hungover poop. This one will take some time to get through. I have about 30 minutes left in class. What do I do? Do I live on the edge and hold it out and try my best to focus on partial derivatives, or do I leave class and do my business? And if I do leave, should I take my stuff with me, or should I leave my stuff at my seat and risk pooping too long and awkwardly getting my things after everyone leaves? Please help, this could be a matter of life and death.
No one has ever regretted making the trip to the john in the middle of class. Ever. It takes some courage to get up in front of everyone and hustle out of there to do what everyone now knows you need to do. But once you're on the toilet, shitting your brains out, that moment of tension is far off in the distance. You are safe and happy. Shit away. You won't be productive in class if the only thing on your mind is the 50-pound pile of taco lava trying to exit your body.
In the near future, evidence is revealed proving that there was no such thing as dinosaurs—they never existed. The facts are airtight; the world's foremost scientific minds are left speechless. Carl Everett gloats. Would this start a holy war? Could you call it a holy war? In this (fictional) situation, who do you think planted all those bones?
Obviously, Kimmel planted the bones. And then we would all declare war on Kimmel. If dinosaurs were proven to be a hoax, I would just go right ahead and kill myself to prevent the ensuing, reinvigorated debates over evolution, geocentrism, and everything else. I don't wanna be around for that. I would rather declare my own existence a hoax and jump into a volcano. That's how stubborn my progressiveism is, dammit!
I played basketball in college. I also sat the bench. While picking the splinters out of our asses, my teammates and I would contemplate ways to get on SportsCenter (especially if we were playing a big conference team) without ever playing in the actual game.
Someone tossed out the idea of running out on the court pantsless (balls exposed) right in the middle of a final possession. The question is, however, would this "blooper" be shunned by ESPN?
It would. ESPN would deem it "classless" and destroy the tape so that the CHILDREN wouldn't emulate your abominable behavior. Instead, you'll have to follow my alma mater (GO MULES!) and think of a crazy white-boy dance routine that goes viral. Or, if one of your more capable teammates hits a buzzer beater, turn around and propose to your girlfriend right on the spot. Keep a ring tucked inside your warm-ups, whip it out, and pop the question during the celebration. Sure, you're probably both too young to get married, and then you'll have kids early, and money will be a problem, and then she'll have an affair with a handsome pediatrician next door and you'll spend your forties as a lonely, broken man. But you did get on SportsCenter, and that makes it all worth it.
One other idea: get Bill Murray to sit on the bench with you.
Email of the week!
I am a straight man, in college, in a great relationship with girlfriend, and I eat my own cum when I masturbate. When I was younger, I learned on the Internet that it was OK to eat your own cum, have done it since and did not realize that it was very uncommon until I was in high school.
Obviously I have been accustomed to the taste, but I will give a description for you. It usually tastes pretty bland, however occasionally the consistency is different. The more you jerk it, the more 'watery' it gets. Alright, now here is the question: Should I tell me girlfriend about this, because she refuses to eat my cum when she gives blowjob/handjob, and then we have to go wash it off and all, I feel as though it was be easier that maybe if I told her I did, she would be more willing to do so.
Here is my best guess: If your girlfriend is repulsed by the idea of eating semen, she probably won't be swayed by the revelation that you eat it yourself. If you finish up and try to get her to swallow and she says no and you say, "But baby, tastes great! WATCH THIS!", it will not have the desired effect. She will not say, "Wow, your open-mindedness and love for BOLD CUM FLAVOR has caused me to re-think my whole philosophy on this." She will instead run away screaming and then tell everyone on Facebook about it.
In general, I think it's hard to convert any spitter to a swallower. And vice versa, apparently! I would just keep you fapping habits to yourself, which is your God-given right. Eat all the cum you like in private. You are your own buffet.
I did not need to know about the watery part.
Drew Magary writes for Deadspin. He's also a correspondent for GQ. Follow him on Twitter @drewmagary and email him at email@example.com. You can also order Drew's book, Someone Could Get Hurt, through his homepage.
Image by Jim Cooke, original photos via Getty.
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