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Time for your weekly edition of the Deadspin Funbag. Got something on your mind? Email the Funbag. Today, we're covering mugs, Adrian Peterson, safety monsters, and more.

Your letters…


I was in the bread aisle the other day and overhead another parent say to a clerk, "Excuse me, do you sell crustless loaves of bread? My son won't even touch sandwiches with crusts." The clerk said no. On a scale of one to 10, one being "You gotta do what you gotta do to get the little fucker to eat" and 10 being "We are raising a nation of CRUSTLESS GLOREE BOYZZ," where does her search for crustless bread rank?


The way she phrased it? A 10. Who talks that way to a grocery-store clerk? All you have to do is ask for the bread. You don't have to give the clerk your son's life story. "My son simply won't tolerate cheese that hasn't been made with almond milk." Screw that lady. I would stuff a pile of bread crust into her handbag.

Besides, that mom is straight-up stupid, because crustless bread would go bad after five hours. You need the crust to protect the rest of the bread before you go building a PB&J for the kid's lunchbox. How long does it take to cut the crust off a sandwich? A minute? I know parents are jammed for time, but they aren't that jammed for time. Those two seconds will make all the difference, guys!

I have picky eaters. It sucks. Kids are picky eaters because it's their way of exercising control over shit. They can't choose the meal, but they can choose to throw it at your head. In general, if you indulge that pickiness, it only gets worse. One day the kid wants a crustless sandwich, the next they reject that and demand a lollipop wrapped in gold leaf. They'll push their demands as far as they can go. I have three different kinds of chicken nuggets in my freezer because I've done a shitty job resisting them. I even have sandwich cutters so that my kid can take a heart-shaped ham-and-cheese sandwich to school. That's how far I've fallen. We gotta leave the crust on the bread. It's the only way to prevent society from descending into chaos.


(By the way, half the time, I will make a sandwich, and the kid won't eat it, and then I will open their lunchbox and stand there for a good minute, trying to decide if I should eat the old sandwich or not. That ham was sitting in a lunchbox for eight hours. But it's still ham! I have a hard time throwing it away.)


Would you cut Adrian Peterson if you were the Vikings?

At this point, they may have to. It's getting worse and worse, and the season is marred whether they keep him around or set him adrift. I'm the worst person to ask, because I am a Vikings fan, and Adrian Peterson is (was?) my favorite player on the Vikings. That's how sports fucks your head. All that affection I built up from watching Peterson run the ball over the past decade … that doesn't just vanish right away. It lingers, to an uncomfortable degree. I know Peterson probably belongs in jail (the "leaves in the mouth" part is almost the worst thing about the first incident), and yet I still enjoy his work. I can't really reconcile the two. It's the sociopathic side of fandom, where you cheer for your players no matter what, and you can shadily justify it because you chose the team but not the players on it.


When the news broke on Friday night, I was like any other deranged fan hoping he was just being cited for leaving the kid in the car while going to get a Coke or something. And then it turned out to be much worse, and yet a little part of me was still thinking, "Well shit, now he's not gonna play," which is the absolute grossest thing to think at a time like that. I was one of the people who thought Ray Rice got off light with two games after that first video went public, and now I get to take a long, hard look at my own glaring hypocrisy.

Outside of cutting a player, teams can only suspend players for four games on their own. Any longer suspension has to come from the NFL league office, which is currently a complete shitshow. Roger Goodell took it upon himself to institute a stupid and inconsistent personal-conduct policy that punished players for virtually anything he personally deemed inappropriate. But now he's fucked because of the Ray Rice thing, so the league has gone into a shell, and left every franchise adrift when it comes to disciplining players who are currently in legal turnaround with horrific public charges of violence levied against them. And none of these teams want to take action, because it's a conflict of interest. The Vikings don't want to discipline Peterson because he helps them win and makes them money, but they'll never just SAY that. That's how you end up with Rick Spielman showing his ass to the media yesterday:


This team seems more afraid of making Peterson mad than making everyone else mad. Maybe Peterson beats them. The Vikings should probably cut ties with Peterson, and yet they can't bring themselves to do it. Many fans are in the same boat. Not the sex boat, but a different, less sexy boat.


I watched you on FS1 once, and you messed up on an embarrassing level. You got a mug in front of you, I'm assuming full of water, for an occasional drink. But, you're grabbing the CUP portion of the mug, not the handle. Why? It's not designed to be used liked that. Unless you want some ceramic knuckles, you've completely defeated the purpose of a mug.


I did do that. That's absolutely true, because the mug was filled with cold water, which made grabbing the handle optional. That's why the mug has a handle, right? So you don't burn your fingers on some hot-ass coffee. But if there's cold water in there, ALL THE RULES GO OUT THE WINDOW. I get to grope that mug however I see fit. I think I put my full hand around the body of the mug strictly for ease of use. Holding up a full mug just by the handle causes me great strain. Takes real effort. The mug really weighs your hand down. I could get carpal tunnel.

Frankly, I shouldn't have been drinking water out of a mug anyway. Drinking anything out of a mug that isn't tea or coffee or soup or hot chocolate is stupid. Like Coke. Imagine drinking Coke out of a goddamn mug. I've done this with no other clean glasses around and I feel like a moron. My mug game is all fucked up.


So I left my desk at work to take a phone call, which lasted approximately three minutes. Returned and this (photo attached) was on my computer screen, and my computer had been locked. I've spent the last five minutes paranoid, looking over my shoulder, feeling like I'm being watched. Would it be inappropriate to set a trap by leaving my desk, keeping my computer unlocked, and hiding in a corner to catch whoever is doing this?


Didn't your IT department do this? Aren't they the safety monster? God, fuck that safety monster. The safety monster looks like a complete asshole. I hate any corporate order that is communicated via mascot or passive-aggressively friendly email. HEY TEAM LET'S MAKE SURE WE DON'T FUCK EACH OTHER IN JENNY'S OFFICE ANYMORE!


I haven't seen anyone rollerblading in at least 10 years. Is rollerblading dead? Is it just an activity that nobody does anymore? Or is it the exclusive domain of weird perverts of some kind?


Rollerblading is all but dead relative to its '90s heyday; sales of rollerblading equipment have been in decline for a while. I assume this is because no one ever figured out how to fucking stop while wearing Rollerblades. Back in the 1990s, people were skating around and doing all sorts of KEWL tricks on park railings, and so other people were like, "Oh shit! That looks fun!" And then they bought all the equipment, only to realize there's no way to stop. You have to have skillz to rollerblade well, and people with those skillz would probably rather go skateboarding or snowboarding instead, because Rollerblades make you look like a fucking dork.

Rollerblading was also a general fitness craze, and fitness crazes flame up and flame out all the time. You can throw rollerblading right into the fitness-craze dustbin with strippercizing and zebra-rustling. You know what's a big fitness thing right now? Ballet. They've got fitness videos with ladies contorting themselves around chairs and ballet barres, and it'll all be dead within a week.


My wife is quite a bargain-shopper, which I appreciate. We've got three kids, and her savvy with coupons, rebates, and clearance shopping really helps to keep them from bankrupting us entirely.

That said, a few weeks ago, she got a killer deal on socks for our sons. The only problem is that the socks have a large "Tapout" logo on them. My question is this: Do these socks represent a gateway garment? Are they the first step toward my children becoming meatheads with awful tattoos and worse jobs?


How old are the kids? If we're talking about a three-year-old, it's not a big deal. They could give half a shit. They can't read. Small children are so fickle about clothing that I would gladly let my kid wear an Alpha Male Shit T-shirt if it meant no fussing in the morning. I will accept any and all hand-me-downs from neighbors and relatives, regardless of quality. I think my two-year-old wore a sleeveless sweatshirt once. Looked like he was about to go jogging eight miles wearing a trash bag. Anything that saves me a trip to Old Navy is welcomed with open arms. The only reason to keep your small kid from wearing Tapout socks is simply because you're embarrassed by it and don't want people thinking you're raising a shithead, which is actually a pretty good reason.

Once elementary school starts, kids become a lot more fashion-conscious, especially around first and second grade. That's when you gotta get rid of all the trashy shit from their drawer, or else your kid will see the Tapout socks and think, "I look GOOD in these!" And then that kid will demand more Tapout gear, and then start telling you how awesome Joe Rogan is. My oldest kid likes clothes from Justice now, and hoo boy, does she think she looks like hot shit in a sparkly shirt that says GYMNAST. You gotta let them find their own bad taste. Don't give it to them in advance.

By the way, if you're one of those people who tries to buy a cool band shirt for your kid, that kid will NEVER end up liking that band. Your attempt to get them to love Animal Collective will go wildly astray.




This week in one of my classes, a girl wore an NFL jersey of the local team that had just won their prime-time game the night before. Though I'm a neutral third party, I couldn't help but despise her for wearing the jersey around campus until after her team had won. Is my scorn for her justified? Or, when is it acceptable for you to wear a jersey the day after?


I think the only time you can get away with it is right after your team has won a title. If you team just won the Super Bowl and you show up in a jersey the next day in class, I can't blame you. You just won. You should be able to rock a jersey with pride while I sit in the back of the class, seething with hatred. That's only fair.

But after a regular-season win? No. That's fucking stupid. You haven't won jack shit. You're getting ahead of yourself, glory boy! YOU NEED TO TAKE IT ONE GAME AT A TIME.


Celebs spend their money on weird things, but is there anything more out of place than Phil Collins owning the largest private collection of Texas Revolution artifacts?


Does he really?

[Looks it up.]

He does! That's fucking weird! Only Texans should like Texas. They force Texas kids to take Texas history specifically to indoctrinate them like that. Phil Collins has no such excuse.



How easy would it be for an average person, with nothing but youth soccer experience, to score a penalty kick against a professional goalie? I know it has to be harder than it looks, but it still seems feasible. Certainly easier than hitting off a major-league pitcher or scoring a point off a professional tennis player, no?

It's probably a little bit easier than both of those things, since you get to strike the ball instead of having to react to it. But I imagine a pro goalie would stone you virtually every time. Those guys know all of your tells. They're not gonna be tricked by the whole "I'm looking right but kicking left!" trick (which totally works on eight-year-olds, FYI). You've got a shit poker face, and they can exploit that fact. My guess is that you would make maybe one in 100 goals. If that. Although maybe BIG SOCCER has forced that viewpoint on me.



When do we see a coach on a tablet (iPad for you Apple junkies) getting real-time updates and making his selection with his mobile device?

That should have happened already. It's fucking stupid for Andy Reid to stand there with the Denny's menu when there's probably a more efficient digital play-calling system to be had.


Also, the Apple Watch is coming, and the first thing they should do is give one to every player out on the field, so that plays can be called in that way. No more huddling up and trying to hear what Peyton is saying while the PA system is blasting "Fancy." Just text that shit out to the offense, and then they can adjust on the fly. Most mistakes in the NFL are made because players don't know what the fuck they're doing. If everyone had their marching orders ready to go on a small screen, you could reduce a lot of sloppiness and improve the quality of play 100 percent. Also, I'd like to see how long it would take the Raiders to adopt the technology. Probably by 2409.


I stopped at a McDonald's drive-thru for breakfast on my way into work this morning. I ordered a #3 (egg-white McMuffin meal) which came out to about $6, got my coffee and food at the next window, and was on my way.

About a mile down the road, I realized that they had given me the wrong bag, containing two sausage biscuits (no eggs or cheese) and a hash brown. I quickly did the math, realizing that this was about $4 worth of food including the coffee. I was mildly annoyed (why me!?), but mainly interested in the coffee and hash brown anyway, so I ate the wrong bag of food and went about my day. Was that the best/right move?


That was the right move. Going back is a whole thing. You gotta turn the car around. You gotta get out of the car. You gotta wait in line. You gotta explain the mixup to a 15-year-old clerk who will have NO IDEA what to do and will have to alert "Jim" to fix it. And you will stand there for five minutes while the rest of the line eye-murders you for holding them up. Is that worth two bucks? FUCK AND NO. I would much prefer to seethe about my plight and do absolutely nothing about it. That's the American way.


Is it ever acceptable to introduce yourself to strangers by a nickname? I realize that adopting your own nickname should be punishable by no less than 10 years in a Guatemalan prison, but what if you're almost exclusively called by your nickname? I've been called "Cowboy" by almost everyone I've gotten to know since I was a freshman, but I generally refuse to introduce myself as such.


I think it depends on if the nickname is some basic nickname like "Bobby" or a nickname like yours that is clearly NOT a variation on your given name. When your nickname is Cowboy, and you tell people, "Hi, I'm Cowboy!" you sound like a moron. You have to cushion it and say, "Hi, I'm Doug, but my friends call me Cowboy." This still sounds dumb (it sounds like you're in the world's lamest biker gang), but at least you've given them the option. Or you can give them your Christian name and let them discover your alter ego on their own. Why is everyone calling Doug "Cowboy"? Is he a real cowboy? HE'S SO MYSTERIOUS I SHOULD PROBABLY DATE HIM.

(By the way, the most famous example of this was in Ferris Bueller's Day Off, when Jeanie tells Charlie Sheen that everyone calls her Shauna, and NO ONE in the movie had called her Shauna before she mentions it. Where the fuck did Shauna come from?)


Do you think it would be possible to watch all the porn that has ever been made in the world? I'm not talking dodgy homemade porn or anything like that, just the "professionally" made porn movies. For the purpose of this exercise, we assumed you'd be able to have 12 screens going at once.


I don't think it would be possible, especially since the line between professional porn and amateur porn is getting blurrier and blurrier. If some stranger offers you $100 to star in a video, is that professionally made? Or is there some kind of minimum budget required? What about some porn star's webcam that's up and running 24 hours a day for months on end? Does that shit count?

This article says that 90 percent of the all the data ever produced by mankind has been produced within the past two years, which means that we are producing porn faster than you can possibly consume it. Back in 1994, I went to a Times Square video booth and threw down a few bucks to look at porn for half a minute and do my business. When I put my money in, four different porn movies started playing on the screen in quadrants. And it was all really shitty porn. I couldn't even tell if it was straight porn or gay porn or animal porn. And they had hours and hours of this shit ready to throw down for tourists like me. That was 20 years ago. You wouldn't even make a dent in the pile. You would go insane after two days of looking at it.


It has come to my knowledge that my recent ex-girlfriend had sex with Johnny Football a few weeks back, and I can't decide whether to be ecstatic or angry about it. Should I be cool with this?


You should be way cool with that. I'd name-drop that every place I could. "You know, I had sex with someone Johnny Football then had sex with. I have sex with people. You should find me sexy from all that sex." I'd exploit the hell out of it. "She wasn't my type, but if Johnny likes her, hey more power to him … ."


What type of career do you think finds the most dead bodies? If you rule out doctors and cops and nurses working in hospitals and old folks' homes, what profession is most likely to stumble upon a surprise corpse?


Hotel maid? Hotel maid. If you die of autoerotic asphyxiation at the Motel 6, it's the poor maid who's gonna have to make that discovery. It's not right. You should really call your parents before choking yourself to death mid-orgasm. That's the right thing to do.

Also: Mt. Everest tour guides. They see so many bodies, they don't even blink. If I were a sherpa, I'd point out every corpse on the way up. "That corpse over there … we call that corpse Cowboy. Ain't he funny-lookin'?"


If pigs just all disappeared Leftovers-style one day, AND that same day it was discovered that human meat now tasted identical to bacon, what percentage of the bacon-eating humans would say fuck it, and start eating human bacon?


Zero. There's still duck bacon and turkey bacon and other forms of bacon to try out that don't make you a cannibal. Turkey bacon is ass, but it beats devolving into a man-eating demon beast. I used to eat a lot of turkey bacon back in the day. If you try, you can convince yourself it kinda tastes like real bacon, until you have the real thing and realize you are history's worst liar.


I've wondered for a long time how coaches put out information like canceling practice. It can't be that different from your Little League phone tree right? If so, which athletes most regularly ignore the messages and show up to the arena/stadium just to turn around and go back home?


When I was in college, you got all that information at the practice the day before. This always happened at the end of practice, and coach would make you take a knee (so painful) and explain the next day's practice schedule and bus times for traveling to road games and shit. Practice was never cancelled. It was only moved indoors if there was inclement weather, and you would know by showing up the next day and asking around. Oh, we're inside today? Oh God, that'll suck. Almost every last bit of information you got was gleaned in person. I think one guy missed the bus once. It was very exciting. OH SHIT! DAN'S NOT ON THE BUS.

I assume big-time pro and college teams now have text alerts and mass voicemail dumps to handle any changes in scheduling. I bet that's the hardest part of the job. I have a hard time keeping a bachelor party intact. Men just wander around like cows. Corralling 100 mouth-breathing frat boys for a trip to Blacksburg must be fucking anguish. WHERE IS DAN? HAS ANYONE SEEN DAN?

Email of the week!


I live in Australia now and have for about five years. Here, Kyle is an uncommon first name for dudes (and yet I work with guys named Barnabie, Valentyne, and THREE fuckers named Hugo). On the other hand, Kylie is the fucking Australian version of Michelle for female names. There are Kylie's fucking everywhere, and I can only assume it's because of Kylie Minogue. Australians are bound by law to fucking cream themselves for anything and everything she does. Failure to do so is considered an act of treason and offenders are banished to the bowels of Middle Earth (New Zealand).

Nine times out of 10 in the course of my work and then day-to-day adult bullshit, I get referred to as Kylie. Banks, utilities companies, clients, customers, random people … fucking telemarketers! I get referred to as Kylie verbally and in writing on a daily basis. Being Canadian, I usually either just outwardly ignore it, or politely correct them with a laugh.

HOWEVER … every time this happens, a fucking bomb goes off in my brain, and I have a vivid fantasy whereby I go full Simon Phoenix and murder-death-kill the person. Real overkill maniacal-type shit, complete with witty catchphrases and my finishing move: The Kyledriver. I then do push-ups and drink whiskey until my manliness is publicly acknowledged.

I'm ok, right?

You're just fine, Kylie.

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


Image by Jim Cooke, source photo via Shutterstock.

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