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How To Dump A Friend

Illustration for article titled How To Dump A Friend
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 talking Jayson Williams, Kanye, holiday sex, and more.


Your letters:


Is there a way to appropriately dump a former best friend? I moved back to my hometown for work and moved in with my best friend from high school. Problem is, he has become a self-absorbed cock, and it's a chore to talk to him about all the girls he's totally gonna bang and how much money he's going to make once he graduates school. Everyone I know assumes we are still really good friends, but deep down, I hate him. What's the best way to kick this shitbag down the road and out of my life?

Well, you could get married. That works wonders for ending friendships. ZING!

Seriously though, there's no need to formally "dump" a friend. I don't think you could do that to someone without either hurting their feelings or coming across like a complete shitbag, or both. I remember reading a story once about Jeff Tweedy, the notoriously prickly lead singer of Wilco. And he was on the phone with someone he had had a falling out with, and he basically said to the guy, "You know, I don't think I ever want to talk to you again," and hung up. That's a pretty rough way to ditch a friend.

Instead, I would just let the friendship die naturally. Be a flake. Be unreliable. Don't return phone calls in time. Say you have other plans. At some point, your friend will be like BRO WHAT THE FUCK YOU'VE CHANGED BRO, and then you can just explain that you're older now, and you've grown apart, and you guys will never again have the good times you once had, because youth is fleeting, and we're all going to collapse in a black hole one day. That's the proper way to sever ties.

I think I've told this story before, but back in 1997, I struck up a friendship with another dude while I was abroad. We hung out all the time, and I figured we would keep hanging out once we both returned to the States. But it never happened. Once home, he wouldn't give me the time of day. And I was mad for being kicked to the curb, and even more mad that he had made me mad for being distraught about losing a man-friend and being a drama queen about it. And to this day, I don't really know why it fell apart. Maybe it's because I'm shitty to hang out with. Anyway, that guy dumped my ass the RIGHT way. Just total, inconsiderate radio silence. I admire him for that. I'm gonna break into his house and poop in his hamper.



What holidays have the least/most people having sex? My vote for least would be Thanksgiving—everyone is full and tired. And for most, the Fourth of July. Summertime + day drinking + fireworks = sex (boom!).


What about Halloween? Everyone dresses up on Halloween specifically to get other people horny. If lots of people aren't fucking on Halloween, then the whole enterprise is a sham and a letdown. I say Halloween gets the most action, and then New Year's, and then St. Patrick's Day. Last place is Thanksgiving, obviously. Hard to stuff yourself with mashed potatoes and then go bone in your childhood bedroom.

Anyway, I'm the worst guy to ask about this, because on virtually any holiday, I fill up way too quickly on beer and grilled sausage, and then I'm a sweaty, hickory-reeking mess by the time night falls. No woman will touch me. I guess I'd have the best luck on Valentine's Day, even now. But it's different for young single people. On any summer holiday, young single people can hit the beach and bring some coolers and play volleyball and get all sexy-sweaty and then retire to a house party and grind against each other before going to fuck in a broom closet … God, being young is awesome. I bet you guys can drink as many Bud Light Lime-A-Ritas as you please with NO hangover.



Let's say you were invited to spend the night in the Lincoln Bedroom. This has nothing to do with politics or partisanship or your current opinion of whomever is in the White House at any given point—you're a guest of the President, and you're staying in the Lincoln Bedroom. You are solo.

Do you jack it?

My wife says no, but if you're with your significant other, you totally bone. I say you have to. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.


I jack it. No question. The Secret Service probably throws all the sheets away after your stay anyway, right? I'd cream all over the place … UNLESS … unless Lincoln's ghost appeared and tried to watch. Then it goes right back in my pants. I wouldn't be able to get it up with Lincoln watching. Way too scary.

I would try to do everything possible in the White House, just to say I did all kinds of crazy shit in the White House. Look at Willie Nelson, man. How much mileage has that old burnout gotten out of telling people he smoked weed on the White House roof? You get lifetime street cred for that shit. So if they invite me to the Lincoln Bedroom, I'm smoking weed and having sex and taking a dump right on the pillow. "Did you know Drew took a shit on the Lincoln Bedroom pillow once? That's some real-ass shit!"



At what age do kids get less disgusting? My son is 8, and I'm tired of the first three months of school being a non-stop transfer of sickness.


You have a boy? You're just getting started. I mean, once they discover self-gratification, it's all over for you. It'll be everywhere. You'll have to scan the house with a black light twice a week to figure out what needs to be steam-cleaned. That boy will be a filthy animal until the day he meets a nice gal and she demands he start clipping his toe fungus.

Girls are different. They can become fastidious at a fairly early age. My oldest kid is really good about washing her hands—she still uses her shirt as a napkin, even when a napkin is right there, but she's got the hand-washing down. It took years of drilling it into her, to the point where we probably violated the Geneva Conventions with all of our demands, but still. Little girls can be moody and pouty and manipulative and scheming, but they do keep clean once in a while!



How different would football be if it didn't matter how much a player went out of bounds—it only mattered if the ball went out of bounds? So you can run up the sidelines all you want, you don't have to get your feet in bounds on catches, etc. All you have to do is keep the ball in bounds. Assume we have the technology where anytime the ball passes out of bounds, there's like a horn or something, so we have no problems enforcing it.


I do believe that's a soccer rule, and it's a good rule for soccer, because it means fewer stoppages and better game flow. But that wouldn't be the case in football. In football, the rule would lead to more scoring and more turnovers (if a guy tries to keep the ball in bounds as he's running out, defenders will smack that shit away from him), and it would mean the end of the foot-drag. I don't wanna lose the foot-drag, because that remains the coolest routine play in football: I will never get tired of seeing a wideout catch the ball and have the coordination to deftly keep his feet in bounds at the same time. I don't know how they do that once, much less do it every game. You don't want that display of athleticism to be taken out of the sport. It's one of its saving graces.


Which will happen first: the Jaguars moving to London or the Marlins to Havana?


I would love to send Jeffrey Loria to Havana as a rogue capitalistic saboteur. All this time we've tried to bring Castro down by imposing sanctions and poisoning his beard, when all we needed to do to bring down Cuba was introduce the destructive force of pro-sports ownership.

Anyway, the Marlins have their billion-dollar fruit basket now. They're not going anywhere, and it will still take years—if not decades—for capitalistic forces to invade Cuba, strip it of its proud heritage, and turn the island into one big Orlando strip mall. The Rays would be a far better candidate to relocate there, but it'll be decades before something that like is even considered, much less implemented.


I still say that the NFL only talks about having a team in London so that more Europeans check out football. I don't think they're as serious as they claim to be about earning a permanent foothold in the U.K., which is too bad, because I still think a London NFL team would be the coolest shit ever. The London Mayo Boys, on every Sunday at 930 a.m. I'd be all for that. I say that team becomes a reality first, but not for a long, long time.


I work at a university student-life department. It is not against department policy for me to date students, but it is frowned upon, and I need to alert my supervisor if it happens. What positions are the most inappropriate in which to engage in a relationship with someone? I would say therapist/patient would have to be at the top, followed by NFL coach/player.


They just banned student/teacher affairs at Harvard, which threw me for a loop, because I assumed that those were against the rules to begin with. You can't have teachers going around boning students and handing out A's for handjobs. That should only happen in porn.

In general, it's always a bad idea to have two relationships within one relationship. He's my boyfriend, but also my CEO! We're opposing counsel, but we're also fuck buddies! A relationship is already a complicated thing. No need to make it even more confusing by adding a coach/player dynamic to it. Plenty of people meet at work or at school but don't take their relationships public until the non-romantic part of the relationship has run its course due to someone getting a new job, or Brandy graduating from middle school, etc. That kind of enforced discretion is probably for the best.


Anyway, these relationships get more inappropriate depending upon the gap in age and status. Like, if a 22-year-old senior is banging a 23-year-old TA, I think we're all fine with that. But if an 18-year-old frosh is sucking some crusty old dean's dick, then it's weird and gross. Once you're beyond one layer of authority and five years in age difference, then we're in Cosbytown.


How long until we see a comedian do the Super Bowl halftime show? It could potentially be the most watched halftime show and cost absolutely nothing in comparison.


I'd enjoy a standup halftime show with Louis CK, but that will never happen, because a) the NFL wants complete control over anything a halftime performer says or does while onstage, to the point where they won't even let you play live instruments because that guitar of yours could, like, curse or something; and, b) they want the halftime show to be a spectacle. They're willing to foot the tab for a halftime show that is a hybrid of the Beijing Olympics Opening Ceremonies and the Broadway production of The Lion King, because then they can include at least one element to appeals to every possible demographic. Left Shark was for the kids, man. Left Shark will have a show on Disney Jr. by week's end.




So Kanye's antics at the Grammy's (again) Sunday made me wonder if this dude has a thing for Beyoncé. Which then got me thinking: Ehat do you think would be the national reaction if it turned out that Beyoncé was on the sly with Yeezy? White girls everywhere would implode, right? Would this be the start of the next rap war? Is there any way it wouldn't result in the cultural apocalypse of America?


It is kinda weird that Kanye has bum-rushed an award-show stage twice on behalf of Beyoncé when she's not even his girlfriend. Technically, that should be Jay Z's job. If I did that twice for Beyoncé, my wife would be livid.

Anyway, I think this has essentially become an orchestrated act. I don't believe any of this shit is spontaneous. Kanye goes to award shows and makes an ass of himself because that's his thing now. Beyoncé gets to sit there and look stunned and above all of it. Kim gets another five seconds of camera time. And Jay Z gets to sit there and look indifferent and somehow bring up his drug-dealing days yet again so that people don't focus on the fact that he's just a rich old Samsung brand-manager now. All four of them are in cahoots, dammit. It's like a four-headed branding cabal.


Even if turned out that Kanye was banging Beyoncé, I would just assume that the public revelation of the affair (or "launch") had been in the works for three years. Beyoncé used a goddamn award show to tell people she was pregnant. No sane person does that. Those four have so much fame and money that they are incapable of spontaneous emotion now. So any re-shuffling of their sexual arrangements would just generate another helping of thinkpiece horseshit.

Honestly, Kanye should just start his own award show—the Yeezies—so that he can win every award and interrupt every musical act.



There is an ANGRY tiger outside of the locked bathroom stall that you're in (standard stall). You need to survive for just 10 minutes before help arrives. Are you surviving? I say yes: I think the correct play is to stand on the toilet and hold the door shut, while getting ready to hop from stall to stall. Ten minutes is rough, but I think you can do it.


So the tiger knows that you're in there and is constantly trying to attack? Supposedly, you can get a tiger to back down by looking it in the eye, but I don't really believe that I have the presence to earn the tiger's respect and/or fear. I think the tiger would look me in the eyes and KNOW that I'm a chump, and then he would attack anyway. Tigers can weigh up to 700 pounds, and I read here that "a tiger's legs are so powerful that they can remain standing even while dead." That does not strike me as the kind of beast that you can hold back simply by leaning against a two-pound shitter door. The tiger gets you. And then it smokes a cigarette and poops you out.


If you had to wear one of the pieces of roller-derby equipment (skates, helmet, elbow pads, knee pads, or wrist braces) at all times, which would you choose? And which would be the worst?


Elbow pads! I could turn them into a fashion statement. Besides, when you have kids, you spend so much time on your hands and knees that the skin on those areas begins to wither and die, so I could use the protection. I'd also consider the wrist braces. Might help with typing. When I played football, they made ankle leathers mandatory for all players, and those things were miraculous. You legitimately cannot roll your ankle while wearing them. I don't know why I don't wear them all the time as an adult. Rolling your ankle is hell on Earth.

The worst would be either the skates or the helmet. Probably the skates. I don't wanna shower with roller skates on.



Let's say that you have to run a mile in order to drink an alcoholic beverage. You can save up as many miles as you want and cash them in for drinks later. How would you go about this dilemma? Would you become a marathon runner? Or drastically reduce your beer intake?


Before I hurt my back, I used to run five miles five days a week. So that's 25 drinks a week on a normal exercise schedule, giving me plenty of alcohol for the crucial THU-FRI-SAT drinking corridor. I would get shitfaced on Thursday, do some light drinking on Friday, get shitfaced again on Saturday, and then have a couple of drinks saved for the lighter parts of the week, or for future weddings, when human drinking capacity triples. Sounds like a reasonable plan. That's not really all that different from my current booze-and-fitness regimen. Let's all ration one shot per mile. It would be a revolution in self-defeating health maintenance.


What is the most selfish superpower? If you were given a choice of any, what would be the power that would only benefit you? I'm thinking the ability to make insane one-handed catches like ODB, or something along those lines.


All superpowers are inherently selfish, and most beneficial to the hero in question. That's the dirty little secret of all superhero movies. Spiderman saves people from falling off of buildings and shit not because he's a good person, but because he's a GLORY BOY who wants credit for being a web-slinging badass. If I had the power of, say, flight, I'm only using it for selfish ends. I'm not gonna deliver packages for anyone or anything. Fuck that. I'm joyflying all day long.

Anyway, out of all the selfish superpowers, invisibility is the most self-serving, because everyone would use it to go look at naked people. It's a fact. Invisible people are never up to any good.



What's the average age of a quarterback when a center first uncorks a fart on his knuckles?


Fourteen? I never played center, but if I had, I would have farted on the QB's hands the moment it presented itself. I was an offensive lineman, which means that I secretly resented all of the skill-position guys who got to do cool shit with the ball. Farting on the QB's hands is just about the only tangible revenge at a lineman's disposal. Young guys are gross. They'll pull any fart prank they can.


I'm a radio broadcaster in college athletics. Sometimes doing a one-man broadcast for a small Division 1 school can get a little boring, because who doesn't love an 11 a.m. women's basketball game on a Tuesday? Anyway, some of my fellow coworkers have gone about adding some spice to my broadcast by giving me "challenge words" to incorporate as seamlessly as possible into the game. So far, the best words I have been given have been: "wildebeest," "ants," "bubbles," and "dumplings." I have been successful with every word they've thrown my way so far, and was wondering if you could provide your best list of "challenge words" for me to use. They have to be everyday words, and they must be appropriate, because you never know when BIG RADIO is listening.


* Spork

* Runt

* Cloaca

* Dingo

* Measles

* Pus


* Knockwurst

* Moist

* Nipple

* Doily

* Genderqueer

* Unctuous

* Rococo

* Discharge

* ChooChoo

* Hippodrome

* Galoot

[Looks up Spelling Bee words.]

* Logorrhea

* Appoggiatura

* Succedaneum

* Horny


Assume you group all Americans by first name into fighting bands. Take the top 64 most popular names and face them against each other in a March Madness style WAR for supremacy. What name do you bet on to stand atop all others? (I'd put my money on my name.)


I actually can't find a list of the most popular active names for all Americans, because the Social Security Administration only groups them by year or decade. So while there may be a shitload of Jaydens NOW (because Americans have awful taste), the number of living Jaydens still pales in comparison to the number of Michaels out there. Also, Jayden is a dipshit name, and any Michael could kick the crap out of a Jayden baby. According to this site, here are the most popular names from back in 1980 and 1990:

1980: Michael, Jason, Christopher, David, James, Matthew, John, Joshua, Robert, Daniel.


1990: Michael, Christopher, Joshua, Matthew, David, Daniel, Andrew, Joseph, Justin, James.

These are all men who are in the twenties or thirties: prime fighting age. (For the sake of this exercise, I'm only using male names, even if all the collective Emilys out there might put up a good fight.) There's overlap with Michael, David, Christopher, James, Joshua, James, and Daniel, with Michael winning both decades.


So I'm picking Michael. An army of Michaels would include Tyson, Jordan, Vick, Strahan, Sam, Shannon, Fassbender, Rooker, Crabtree, etc. You also get Michael Cera, but the other Michaels could probably just put him on the front lines as a blood sacrifice.


What type of season would Adrian Peterson have to have next year to win the MVP? You have to assume that people would feel weird voting for him right? Plus Roger wouldn't want to hand off the trophy to a guy he suspended in such a bizarre fashion.


I think if he ran for 2,500 yards and scored 20 touchdowns and helped the Vikings land a playoff spot, he'd probably get lots of votes, especially if he gets formally reinstated and people think he's "paid his debt" for his crime, so to speak. When Michael Vick came back and had that one dazzling game against Washington, a lot of people were able to admire the feat while still condemning all the dog-anus-electrocuting he did:

That's how sports work. Athletes always get a second chance, so long as they are awesome. It's kinda fucked up, but that's how it goes. The more joy you give people, the more they'll let you get away with.



Due to losing my fantasy league, I am going to have to perform standup comedy for five minutes at an open-mic night. Do you have any tips?


Oh, man, that's a brutal punishment. The good news is that the time goes by faster than you think. The bad news is that you will suck and feel ashamed about it until the day you die. But hey, this will be your first and last open mic, so you may as well bomb ALL THE WAY. Strip down naked. Douse yourself in cranberry juice. Scream out SOMEONE'S GOT A GUN! It's not like you have a career to ruin. Entertain your friends, and don't worry about the strangers in attendance.

Email of the week time!


When I was 16, my mother took me to get my hair cut. While we were there, a few people were there filming a short scene in a movie that was supposedly going to be the first movie ever made with only digital recording. So I'm getting my hair cut in the background as two guys acting as detectives have a very short talk with the woman acting as a stylist.

Fast forward to this past Thanksgiving. We see a bit on the news about a movie with Kevin Sorbo being filmed near us. It brings up some memories, so I mention to my mom that I remember being an extra in the film that was recorded 15 years ago. It turns out that she knew people who knew the guys making the film, and it was actually a detective-themed porno. At 16 years old, I was an extra in a porno.

That is one of the weirder stories in my life.

And here is a bonus email of the week!


So I was living in NYC the summer before my senior year of college for an internship (summer 2013), and one weeknight I decided I needed to run to the grocery store to pick up some stuff. As I'm leaving the store with my groceries in hand, I notice a small crowd of people around a tall black guy taking pictures and stuff. He's easily 6'10". I'm not really a celebrity gawker and I didn't immediately recognize the guy, so I kept going on my way. As I pass, the tall black man and his short, fat white friend start walking the same direction as me behind me. We stop at a crosswalk, and he looks over and sees my high school basketball shirt and asks me, "You play basketball?" I'm 6'4", decent-sized and athletic, plus I played college lacrosse. So I replied, "Yeah, used too." He says that's cool, and says he used to play basketball and likes basketball players. We walk and talk, and we walk by a bar, and he says, "Let me buy you a drink." I accepted.

I was pretty sure this guy was famous and played in the NBA, and I thought this would maybe be a good story to take back home, so I stick around. We start to talk basketball: He says he played at St. Johns and then the New Jersey Nets. Then he starts to tell me about jail and his time there, and I start freaking out a little thinking this guy is gonna kill me in this bar, and BOOM, it hits me, and I choke on my drink. All of a sudden I know who this is. JAYSON WILLIAMS: The guy who blew his limo driver's head off. I try to continue to play it cool, and he asks me if I want to play basketball sometime. So I give him my phone number. He leaves and pays for the four rum-and-cokes we each had.

As I'm sitting at the bar wondering if this all really happened, I get a text from him: You good?

ME: Ya man. I'm good. Thanks for the drinks.

Him: Text me tom

I never texted him.

Now that's how you dump a friend.

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 Sam Woolley.

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