Time for your weekly edition of the Deadspin Funbag. Got something on your mind? Email the Funbag. Today, we’re covering M&Ms, Star Wars, baby-naming, and more.

Your letters:

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Mike:

Should the Cowboys have cut Greg Hardy?

Probably, and I say that strictly from a football standpoint. Even before we posted the assault pictures, I thought that Dallas should have cut Hardy when he went after the special teams coach on the sideline. Normally, I think chemistry is a load of overrated horseshit, but Hardy seems to be a legitimately unstable human being who adds a shitload of unnecessary stress and tension to the Dallas work environment. Like, if I worked next to Greg Hardy, I would have a hard time focusing on my shit, because there would be a loon next to me huffing smelling salts and polishing his couch rifles. It would affect my productivity! Also, the Cowboys are fucking terrible, and nothing they do matters so long as Tony Romo is on ice. They could start Godzilla at defensive end and still be 2-6.

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A lot of people would like to see Hardy run out of the league for obvious reasons, but calling for a lifetime ban and demanding he show public remorse is handing Roger Goodell a cudgel that he has always craved and has always misused. He wants every player to be suspended forever and forced to publicly grovel at his feet. The NFL can’t and shouldn’t try to make up for the inequities of the criminal justice system, because all cases are different, and you don’t want a pud like Goodell trying to seek nuance when he’ll just end up locking everyone inside a Turkish prison (without pizza!) instead. Hardy ought to be in jail, but he’s not, and the NFL shouldn’t be in charge of correcting that.

The way it stands now—with Hardy eligible to play after serving out a reduced suspension that his union HAD to bargain for (not unlike a public defender serving his client instead of saying to the judge, “Oh, he’s guilty. You should fry his ass”)—is a grotesque but correct outcome. You can think Hardy is a scumbag (true), but also grudgingly acknowledge that he’s free to ply his trade if someone will have him, and those two thoughts aren’t necessarily at odds.

With Hardy eligible, it leaves a franchise like the Cowboys free to decide if it’s worth paying a piece of shit $10 million a year to rush the passer, and it forces them to make clumsy non-comments and endure all the public scrutiny that decision entails if they choose to move forward. The Panthers decided they DIDN’T want that headache, so they turned Hardy loose and have been fine ever since. All of the invective and anger directed toward the Cowboys and NBC and the NFL is good. It’s the market speaking! That’s its own form of consequence, albeit not quite the one you or I may want. Peter King, of all people, was right when he said that there won’t always be an outcome to a situation like this that leaves you feeling good or satisfied. Not everything can be perfectly reconciled. Domestic violence is an ugly thing that only begets more ugliness.

For real, though, it makes no sense to keep his ass around. YOU GOTTA WIN WITH CHARACTER GUYS, JERRY. Like Michael Irvin! He may have stabbed a teammate in the neck with a pair of scissors, but he did it THE RIGHT WAY.

Mike:

When taking hamburger buns out of the package, do you take the top four or the front four first?

If you take the top four first, you can pull them out and then carefully separate them to prevent any rogue tearing, which can ruin one of the buns and leave you up Shit Creek. But then you’re left with a flat, floppy-ass pack of four flat buns to store, and they usually get all folded up in the breadbox and shit. But if you grab for the FRONT four, you risk more tearing, and you may even squish the buns at the back in your fevered attempt to get at the front buns. If only hamburger buns were made out of Kevlar. Then this would never be a problem.

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Anyway, here is what I usually do: I rip out two buns from the top and front of the pack, then I leave the buns in the breadbox, and then I open up the package eight weeks later to find a goddamn science fair inside, and then I throw that shit away. VERY EFFICIENT. If you have ever used all eight hamburger buns perfectly in one sitting, then you are Batman.

Devin:

Can you give me a breakdown on building pillow forts vs. blanket forts? We all know a hybrid is the best option, but let’s say you only get to choose one building material ... do you choose pillows or blankets?

How can you build a fort with just blankets? You’d need 50 folded, stacked blankets to pull that off. Not all of us are that rich in blankets, yo. Good blankets are pricey.

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If you’re building a fort, the best available building block will always be couch cushions, because they’re rectangular and keep their shape when you lean them against one another. I make a little U with three cushions, and then I drape a blanket over the top and front, to act as both a roof and a door. Then I crawl in with a flashlight, and it is PARTY TIME. We’re in a fort! No one will ever know! These rayon walls shall never be breached!

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I have a big cardboard box down in my basement that my kids turned into a fort. It’s a real solid hobo fort. Jim Tomsula could eat beans in it. Sometimes my 3-year-old and I huddle in there, and it’s more amusing than it has any right to be. LOL WE’RE IN A BOX! Let’s tell poop jokes. I could hang out in that box all day.

Garrett:

I’ve recently lobbied to have my fantasy league get rid of the kicker position. No scoring system for kickers makes even remote sense. Humanity will solve cold fusion before they come up with an agreed-upon scoring system for them. Is ending the kicker position in fantasy football a step forward or backwards?

There’s no kicker slot in daily fantasy football, and I assure you that I do not miss it. The only reason to have kickers in fantasy football is so you can beat the guy who forgot to replace his kicker during the bye week. That’s pretty much the only upside to it, especially now that PATs have been moved back. Imagine owning a kicker who doesn’t even make a PAT that week. I’d jump off a highway overpass.

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David:

Disney let a dying fan see an unedited version of The Force Awakens. I’m sure he and his family signed a mountain of paperwork saying they would talk about the movie with anyone, but what’s really stopping that fan from spoiling the plot? What if he was disappointed—would a lawsuit really stop him from telling everyone what happens? Could Disney really take his family to court?

Oh, I’m sure they could sue the guy’s family into the Stone Age if he gave anything away. I bet they’re even allowed to legally shoot them according to the non-disclosure form. When I went on Chopped, the NDA carried a fine of more than HALF A MILLION dollars for giving anything away. I’m terrified even now to tell you that, lest I somehow breached the agreement a year after the fact. And that’s just for a TV show. So imagine what precautions Disney is taking with all that revenue from box office receipts and toys and adult cosplay fetish outfits on the line.

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I know I’m a horrible person, because when I read about Disney holding a special screening for that fan (who has since passed away), my first thought was NOT, Oh, isn’t that nice? No, no. No, my first thought was, TELL IT, DANIEL. TELL US IT’S GOOD. Is Luke bad now? Did they just rehash the plot of the original movie, but with a new generation? I bet they did, and that’s okay. Are there blasters? WHERE IS THREEPIO?! Just tell me it’s everything I ever wanted since I was a little boy, and more. That’s all I want.

By the way, ever since the last trailer was released, the Deadspin staff has bent over backwards to pre-spoil it for themselves. “I bet Finn dies!” SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP STOP DOING THIS TO YOURSELVES. The less you know about a movie going in, the better off you are. I saw Eyes Wide Shut without knowing a goddamn thing, and let me tell you something: Any movie with a surprise orgy is a good movie. If this new Star Wars has a surprise orgy at the Mos Eisley cantina, I will give it a proud thumbs-up.

Also, let’s all agree right now to jail the first professional critic who gives this movie a MEH two days before it comes out. That means you, Leitch. Give that movie a B- before I see it and I shall await you with the manacles.

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Sam:

What is your internet homepage? Should it be a site that you go to basically every time you get on the net for convenience? Should it be a site that you SHOULD go to but rarely do? Should it be a news site so you can stay up to date every second of the day? For example, in college, I used our university email / class portal page, because I never checked it and needed that reminder literally every time I opened the internet.

I use Google, which is dumb, because you can already type shit into the address bar to do a proper search. But I can’t make my email the homepage, because what if someone else opens up the browser and sees 50 unread emails with the subject HUGE POOP STORY? I can’t have that. You’re better off having NO homepage or using some bullshit generic news site like Yahoo or MSN or whatever. I don’t know if it’s still true or not, but it used to be that any web page would see a HUGE spike in traffic if it got listed on the front page of Yahoo, because most people are too lazy to switch their homepages from the default Yahoo homepage that comes with your shitty Dell laptop.

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Most browsers—desktop or mobile—now have app menus for the homepage. So if I open up Safari on my phone, there are icons with quicklinks to the Apple homepage and whatnot. Do I ever use these icons? No, I do not. They are dumb. But I’m too lazy to change them, so there they remain, forever.

Kevin:

Have you ever approached a woman in a public space just to tell her that you think she’s gorgeous? If so, how did it go? Assuming you’re clean, acceptably dressed, and just generally don’t look like a pervert, is there any chance this could be received well, or am I about to get maced?

“When a man you’ve never met before suddenly gives you flowers … .” Anyway, I have never done this, and neither should you. Don’t be insane. You may as well paint I AM A PSYCHOPATH on your forehead if you do that. File a Missed Connection on Craigslist or something. “Hey, I saw you at the Safeway and you were, like, way hot.” You could maybe pull this off a century ago. A century ago, a guy walking down the street would see a girl and be like, “I shall marry that girl.” And then he would! That’s a historic fact. Give me a time machine and I can prove it to you.

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HALFTIME!

Phil:

Do you think there will ever be a U.S. president who has an identical twin? I could see that being a bit of a problem.

No. It’s in the Constitution. You have to be born here, and you can’t have a twin sibling. This helps prevent any kind of identity-swapping shenanigans. I can’t let Tarmack Obama have access to the button. He hasn’t been properly vetted. You stay the hell away from the White House, Tarry!

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In all seriousness, though, there ARE twin politicians out there, most notably the Castro brothers, who share both a bloodline and an affinity for terrible hairstyles. If one of them ever becomes president, maybe the other one will get a face tattoo, just as a courtesy to people like me who are too lazy to tell twins apart. It would be the moral thing to do.

Phil:

How was choosing a name for your second and third child different than your first? Did you just use the runners-up for the first child’s name, or did you start from square one?

I don’t know how it was for other parents, but I used backup names on the next go-around, and I’ll explain why. First of all, the whole naming process sounds like a lot of fun at first, but then it ends up being tedious and exhausting, because there are MANY names out there, even if you cross out dumb, made-up Utah baby names like Braydia or whatever. The “A” section of any baby-name book alone has thousands of options. By the time you get to the Bs, you’re spent. You get tired of ALL names. You get tired of the very concept of naming something. I was this close to naming my kid The Black Album for this reason.

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Anyway, we had our list of top five choices or whatever, and then the kid came, and we went with option no. 1 and kept the list for the next time around. And then my wife got pregnant again, and we took the list out and were like, “Pfft. These names are BORING.” So we went back to the baby-name books again, only to remember how debilitating and awful the process was. Also, no awesome names had appeared in the interim. It wasn’t like we had missed some epic name like GALACTUS the first time around. There was nothing new in the fridge. And that is why we decided to name our third child Duff McKagangary.

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Kris:

How long do you think the average president goes before masturbating in the White House? I’m putting the over/under at seven days. Also, do you think they go safe and do it in the private presidential bathroom, or go big and head for the Lincoln bedroom?

Screw that. The average president does it on the first day. He gets inaugurated, and then some aide shows him to his new quarters, and he gets the biggest POWER BONER ever. Just so much boner. You’re the leader of the free world now, and that is hot as shit. I’d go right to the Oval Office toilet to break the seal. I wouldn’t even close the door. EVERYONE MUST KNOW I HAVE THE POWER NOW. Frankly, I wouldn’t trust any president who waited. I expect my president to be a bloodthirsty power-broker who crushes all enemies at the first sign of dissent. You are masturbating for my FREEDOM, dammit. You should be whacking off onto a live bald eagle at least twice daily.

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Tim:

Could you provide the definitive list of M&M types, ranked? I think Pretzel M&M’s are far and away the best, but a friend of mine vehemently disagrees, stating Peanut M&M’s cannot be topped. Nearly all types of M&M’s are delicious, save for Peanut Butter M&M’s, but this debate needs to be settled.

See, that’s funny, because peanut butter M&M’s are my favorite. I saw them in my kid’s Halloween bag the other week and damn near shit myself with excitement. So creamy and nutty and good. I MUST HAVE THEM. Anyway, all M&Ms are tasty and delicious, and Deadspin’s own Will Gordon tackled this question in detail here, but here are my favorites in descending order. (NOTE: You may disagree, and then we can argue about it for no good reason):

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1. Peanut Butter

2. Dark Chocolate

3. Peanut

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4. Plain

5. Holiday mint chocolate

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6. Pretzel

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7. Crispy

There are a whole bunch of novelty flavors behind those main flavors, like White Chocolate Candy Corn (no, thank you) and Red Velvet, but why bother with any of those? You have everything you need from the above list. The law of diminishing returns sets in once you get to Chicken Tikka Masala M&Ms.

James:

What would happen if we lost everything anyone had ever written? Like, all of humanity still knew the stuff in our heads, and we still have the stuff we built, but one day we woke up and all of our books, websites, computer programs, etc. were just gone? We could re-create any of that stuff, but only if someone knew the information in their heads, and took the time to write it down. How screwed would we be?

The best thing about that scenario is that it would prove, once and for all, that no one has ever read all of Infinite Jest. No one would be able to rewrite it, or even remember the basic plot elements. “Like, I think there’s tennis?” It’s about time those poseurs got exposed.

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Apart from that, you would bear witness to the Wiki-ing of the human canon. People would attempt to rewrite vital documents like the Bible and the U.S. Constitution, only they would make mistakes and/or deliberately change things to suit their respective agendas (“Whoa! Since when did the First Amendment include language about upskirt photos?!”), and then other editors would leap in to make angry corrections, and then we would all fight in a big Super War. Only the war would be a dud, because no one would be able to remember the nuke instructions. Mass chaos would ensue. All citizenship and court records would vanish. You’d never know about me setting that insurance fire back in ’93, which is for the best.

Frankly, we ought to start over with some of these documents. Who’s REALLY going to miss the U.S. tax code if it vanishes? And what if we conveniently left Missouri out of the official list of states? OOPS. Why, that was just an accident!

K:

I’m 29 years old. I don’t play any musical instruments, nor do I intend to learn one. The chance of me ever joining a band is exactly 0 percent. Is it okay if I occasionally hear a word or phrase and think, “Whoa, that’d be a cool band name”? My latest one is ‘Promising Young Arms.’

Oh, hell yeah. Everyone should have an imaginary band name at the ready. My band was called F-BOMBS, and I had a whole discography of song titles ready to go: “Sick,” “Droppin’ F-Bombs,” and a bunch of others. I used to design cover art for the albums in class and everything. I put real detail into the metal fonts and stuff. Probably my finest work. LOOK!

AWWWW SHIT YEAH THAT IS METAL. I must have drawn that 7,000 times over the course of my middle school career.

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Also, I had an idea to name my band The Band That Can’t Be Killed, so that the announcer at our gigs would have to be like LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE BAND THAT CAN’T BE KILLED. And then we would play in bulletproof vests, which would be hot, but sweet. So don’t go naming your band that, because that’s MINE. We’ve played Wembley and everything. We’re huge in Japan. You cannot kill The Band That Can’t Be Killed. It’s right in the name!

Derek:

How much would you pay for a phone that had a battery that had an everlasting charge?

Five bucks extra, probably. You underestimate just how miserable I’m willing to be in the name of saving money. I had a charging cable crap out on me the other day, and Apple sells replacement cords for $29, which is insane, and Apple should be firebombed. So, instead of sucking it up and buying the cord right away, I bought one of the replica cords that Amazon sells for way less. But I had to wait for it to ship, so I went on a business trip WITHOUT a charging cord. Just two days trying to conserve the battery. SO MUCH DANGER. Every time the battery lost a percentage point, I felt like I was disappearing into space. But I made it back home just as the battery was dying. It was my Super Bowl. Eat shit, BIG LITHIUM BATTERY. I don’t need you.

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Dave:

My workplace is pretty cool about keeping every department well-stocked with candy, mostly Halloween fun-size chocolate stuff. Every time I have a Hershey’s kiss, the stupid paper ribbon that sticks out of the foil always gets in my way. Why does Hershey’s put that thing in there, anyway? It seems like a complete waste of paper, given the millions of kisses they make each year. Nobody on earth ever tears open the foil using the ribbon end. I just want my chocolate fix without any unnecessary delays.

The flag started off being a starter for people tearing away the foil, but Hershey’s kept it, because BRANDING. You’re right in saying that, functionally, the flag is fucking useless. In fact, it usually tears right off, and then I’m stick with a bunch of toilet-paper confetti on my floor. But Hershey’s will never get rid of it, because the flag is ICONIC. (Brand people will use the word “iconic” without a trace of irony.) Without the flag, that could be some generic Kiss made by hobos, so Hershey’s has kept it and even made it a labeling device for offshoot flavors like caramel-filled Kisses. That way, you know if your Kiss is filled with push pins. It says it right on the flag!

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Email of the week!

Matt:

I just started working for a startup with a small team, and a co-worker was having a Halloween party at his house that began around 8 p.m. Given that everyone else from the company was going, I felt like it was important to make an appearance. I told the host that I would come by after the kids went to bed.

Around 10 p.m, I decide to head over to the party. It’s in a neighboring town about 10 miles away. The party was one of these ones that require adults to wear costumes. I did not have a costume, so I borrowed a ski mask from my neighbor and jumped in the Uber.

The co-worker’s address was 5830 Whatever Road. I exited the Uber at 5630 Whatever Road thinking I had the correct address, threw the ski mask on, and walked unknowingly into the wrong house. Because I wasn’t going to know anyone other than my small group of co-workers anyway, I just kept walking around with the mask on. The next thing I know, a small woman is screaming at me to leave and holding up her phone indicating she had called the police. With that said, I don’t remember doing anything offensive other than maybe grabbing a slice of pizza. I did not take the mask off at any point, which in hindsight probably didn’t help things.

So I sprinted out the front door and started hauling ass up the block. When I saw a squad car coming down the block, I dove headfirst into a huge shrub and stayed there for 10 minutes while the cops drove around the block. Then, I found the right address and finally made it to the originally intended party. I am almost 40 years old.


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

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Photo by AP.