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How To Piss On Mitch McConnell’s Grave: A Brief Explainer

WASHINGTON DC, UNITED STATES - MARCH 12: Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY) is seen during alongside other members of Senate Republican leadership during a press conference following weekly policy luncheons on March 12, 2024 in Washington, DC. (Photo by Nathan Posner/Anadolu via Getty Images)
Nathan Posner/Anadolu via Getty Images

Time for your weekly edition of the Defector Funbag. Got something on your mind? Email the Funbag. And buy Drew’s book, The Night The Lights Went Out, while you’re at it. Today, we're talking about lawyers, biopics, hype video inflation, Raisin Nut Bran, and more.

Before we get down to business, a quick announcement: I’m out next week on Spring Break with the family, so you’re getting a guest host for the bag. And guess what? It’s gonna be ROTH. That’s right, there will be a Rothbag one week hence, so email him all of your questions and then watch the man cook.

Your letters:


I'm a Kentuckian, and as such I have to live with knowing my beloved state is responsible for inflicting Mitch goddamn McConnell on this country for the better part of 40 years. I want to literally piss on his grave once he finally fucks off and dies, but I also suspect he'll be buried someplace where they'll know if graves are being pissed on. So my plan B is to piss in a receptacle of some sort, sneak it into the cemetery, and pour it on his grave much more discreetly. But what constitutes the oomph of pissing on a grave? Is it the piss itself, in which case my smuggling idea would have the desired effect? Or is it more about the piss happening while I'm waggling my dick at a dead old bastard?

The latter. It has to be a dick-to-ground serving of piss. You can’t just source the urine from your bathroom by pissing into a Snapple bottle and then pouring it out on Mitch’s tombstone like it’s Olde English and you’re paying tribute to Biggie. It’s not the same, and I think you know that. You gotta sneak into Arlington, find his plot, and take your dick out so that his ghost can see it. Or, if you’re a woman, you squat. Then you piss directly onto the ground—or, preferably, you dig up the corpse and piss directly onto it—so that, again, his ghost can witness it. As a deceased person, he won’t be able to appoint a federal judge that bars the piss from exiting your meatus, and he won’t be able to ask the Senate Parliamentarian to secretly veto the piss from passing through your body. He will be dead, rotting, and helpless. Just the way he should be.

To that end, I can’t WAIT for that man to die. You could make a case that no other politician in my lifetime has done more human damage than Mitch McConnell. A truly awful human who deserves to have the life-sucking machine jacked up to 50 on his jowly corpus. When he goes, joints like the New York Times will write pathetic obits that laud Mitch for his political shrewdness while only paying cursory attention to his weaponization of the Supreme Court. Some fuckhead Republican will demand to put his face on money. Meanwhile, I’m gonna find his surviving grandkids and spike a fucking football in front of them. Maybe even piss on their toys. They deserve it. Fuck them and fuck him.


Raisin. Nut. Bran. It’s EVERYTHING you love about Raisin Bran Crunch down to the lacquered, crunch-tastic flakes, but with almonds and raisins covered in a jacket of magical sugary nut dust. It’s absolute perfection. Maybe you already know, but if not it’s soooo worth a try. I like RBC, but I mostly only get it if the store is out of RNB.

Oh, I know of Raisin Nut Bran. That cereal and I go all the way to my tweenage years, when I’d loot the box for raisin nuts and then my mom would have to toss the rest of it out. I Lucky Charmed that shit on the reg.

Which brings me to a point I’m pretty sure I tweeted back in like 2009: they should sell boxes of raisin nuts. Raisin Nut Bran is an excellent cereal, but the raisin nuts are so good—especially if you unearth two or three that have been welded together—that they disrupt the balance between flakes and goodies. I just want the raisin nuts, and General Mills refuses to give them to me. Health-wise, this is for the best, because Trader Joe’s sells almond butter coated almonds and they taste like first love. They’re also like 590 calories apiece, and no mortal man can eat just one piddly-shit almond almond. So if they ever sold separate raisin nuts at the store, I would weigh 300 pounds by June. But I still want them, and I can’t have them. This is all the work of Creamy Joe Biden.

Anyway, Raisin Nut Bran is indeed very good. No argument here on that.


Just how famous was Michael Jackson at the height of his fame? I was born in 1988, so my perspective isn’t relevant here. 

It’s impossible to get anyone who grew up post-internet to understand how famous someone like Michael Jackson was back in the analog age. He was one of the most famous people to ever live. You could have walked into a fucking hut in the middle of the desert brandishing a picture of Michael Jackson, and the family dwelling within it would have busted out into “Billie Jean” in mere seconds. Not only was Michael Jackson the most popular musician of my lifetime, he was also the most intensely covered one. He was on the cover of every supermarket tabloid and every magazine, every week. Everyone loved his music, and everyone wanted to know why he was such a fucking weirdo.

And he operated in a much smaller pool of celebrity. Michael Jackson not only rose to prominence before the internet, but also before reality television, influencers, celebrity chefs, Sunday Ticket, YouTubers, and 500 other avenues to widespread notoriety. Print journalism and the evening news were gatekeepers of the zeitgeist during my childhood, and their taste in public figures was both limited and unimaginative. This meant that any famous person who appeared across those limited platforms got the kind of mass exposure that virtually no performer outside of Taylor Swift can receive anymore. If you made the cover of Time or Newsweek in the '80s and early '90s, everyone in America knew who you were. Eddie Vedder made the cover of Time in ’93 and suddenly your mom wanted to know what he was so angry about. That kind of thing will never happen again, which means I have no good context to put Michael Jackson in for anyone who wasn’t there. He was second to Jesus, and that’s not an overstatement.


No funbag question, I just want to thank you for recommending Top Boy. I binged the whole thing over about two weeks. I’ve always had the feeling that there’s a ton of stuff on Netflix that I’d really enjoy, but will never get recommended to me through their horseshit algorithm. 

I’m glad you brought that show up because I wrote about it before watching the series finale, and I now have a take that’s only controversial if you’ve never seen it. That was the best series finale I have ever seen, or ever will see. It’s perfect. It’s how The Sopranos should have ended, but didn’t. The very last shot of Top Boy will stick in my head until I’m ashes scattered in the ocean. It’s that good. You are not allowed to dislike it.


Seems pretty old-fashioned to keep putting one’s phone in your pocket or have it rest nearby on the table. Would you wear a gadget that housed your phone on the back of the forearm. When you wanted to look at your phone, it would go up, swivel around your wrist and go to your hand when you wanted. Do you think this would ever catch on?

This isn’t an exact correlation, but I’d like to thank Shane for reminding me of that brief period in action movie history where every good guy had a retractable handgun spring-loaded into his shirt sleeve. Thirteen-year-old me thought that was the coolest shit ever, and 47-year-old me still kinda thinks the same thing. I support any kind of technology that makes me feel like a killer cyborg. A retractable handgun can do this. A wearable selfie stick, less so.

In fact, let this be a valuable lesson to everyone in the tech sector. I know that VR and wearables are your holy grail, but you people will never crack that nut if you can’t make those products look cool as shit. I reviewed the Vision Pro for SFGate a few weeks ago and was predictably dazzled by its potential as a home entertainment device, but I would never wear that thing out in public. I’d look like a dipshit, same as I would wearing Google Glass, a Meta Quest, or any other product in the category. If the tech is going to be part of me, I need it to make me look like fucking RoboCop. I see no product like that on the horizon. All I see are dorky headsets and Elon Musk whipping out his phone and being like I know what I’ll do I’ll rename Twitter X because X is the edgy letter. Pathetic!


I'm a lifelong, multi-generational Broncos fan from deep in flyover country. The franchise has been absolute shit show since Super Bowl 50, and now they're owned by Wal-Mart and literal war criminals. My wife and I are moving to Virginia next week. I've always had a bit of a soft spot for the Ravens. Would it be fair to dump the Broncos and become a Ravens fan?

Absolutely not. I forbid it. Your current team already has three Super Bowl titles, which is one more than the Ravens possess. Your last title was less than a decade ago. And you want me to have sympathy for you? Not a chance. Broncos fans are, in general, more spoiled than other teams’ fans, and your dalliance with the Ravens proves it. That team is also mired in a relatively harmless championship rut, and it’s not like their owner is fucking Gandhi. I demand you stay with the Broncos and take your medicine. You guys weren’t even that bad by the end of last year! I’ve warned you. I’ll be forced to thrash you.


Would you like the chance to name three biopics that qualify as good (well cast, entertaining, plausibly nonfiction) as well as three that you would call failures (poorly cast, unentertaining and/or horseshit presented as nonfiction)?

I would not like that chance, Brian. Biopics have become a scourge, as my old friend Vince Mancini detailed over at The Ringer not too long ago. It’s nigh impossible to find one that wasn’t made without the consent, and often the participation, of its subject. Biopics are ads now, and musical biopics have essentially replaced terrestrial radio as a way of subjecting the masses to dad rock without their consent. As a result, I can barely name a biopic made in this century that’s stayed in my system long thereafter. I’d have to go back to, like, Goodfellas for that. And you don’t need me to recommend that movie to you. You already know it’s good, and you’ve already seen it five times.

Besides, a biopic is a fundamentally flawed thing. The best biopics don’t exist as life stories, but rather chronicle a compelling story within the subject’s life: The Insider, Amadeus, First Man, and others. I don’t need these movies to hew perfectly to real events, I just need them to be more interesting to me than to they are to the surviving members of Queen.



This past weekend, I was in a local, independent bookstore (remember those?), and I turned to my wife to ask her about a book, at a modest, conversational volume. I was shushed by a guy sitting at a table nearby. I apologized, but then I thought about it some more and can't get over it. When did bookstores become libraries?!

Decades ago. Once Barnes & Noble took over every mall and town center, their locations became de facto libraries for anyone who was working remotely, studying for an exam, or reading a book for free before sticking it back on the shelf. This happened so naturally that I never really questioned it, and I still don’t. Back when my children were small and feral, my wife and I would take them to the kiddie section of our local B&N to burn as much clock as we could. When the train table was free, that bought us an extra 20 minutes on top of it. And yeah, we’d shush our kids if they got a little too rowdy back there. We still had to respect the rest of the clientele.

I know it’s fundamentally unnatural to expect quiet in a place that’s not a library and is just a retail space. But that’s a consequence of living in a country like America, where public gathering spaces have been de-prioritized to the point of extinction. People need places to go, and what if your county is too cheap, or too conservative, to build any of them? Or what if they have those places but also have the cops that will shoo you away if you dare to loiter? Where the fuck do you go then? Well, bereft of options, you go to a bookstore and make it into an unofficial sanctuary. So I don’t blame people who expect a bit of peace and quiet in there. Their sanity might depend on it.

Also, loud people are fucking annoying. I know because I am one.

Kyle, who “may or may not be an attorney”:

What's your hypothesis as to why there seem to be so many lawyers who read/subscribe to Defector and who were into the OG Deadspin? Or do they only seem so abundant due to their activity in the comments and eagerness to share that they are attorneys?

Our data god Sean Kuhn actually ran the numbers on this and, to our surprise, only 10 percent of Defector subscribers are lawyers. Your objection to this finding has been overruled. The reason why so many lawyers read us (and Deadspin BCE) is because our audience tends towards being affluent. Many affluent people are lawyers, and many lawyers are bored while at the office, because legal work is boring. Bing bang boom. We’ve made concerted efforts to broaden our readership across tax brackets (and every other demo), some of which have already borne fruit, but this effort takes time. Meanwhile, all y’all are rich. Don’t act like you can’t spring for a round. We see you.

As for why lawyers seem so abundant in the comments, I can answer that as well. My grandfather was a lawyer. My mom is a lawyer. My brother is a lawyer. I know me some lawyers, and lawyers are always quite eager to offer up their services, even when unsolicited. It makes them feel like Really Useful Engines. This is especially true with regards to interesting subjects like sports, politics, and pop culture … all three of which we cover on a daily basis. So when we throw up a post about how the NCAA wants to forbid college football players from playing hip hop in the locker room, HEY PRESTO! That’s when our loyal cadre of attorney/reader/fighter/magic users comes in to parse the fine print of the issue. None of you will take down Mike Florio, who is the apex predator of armchair lawyers. But I applaud your attempts to not only displace him, but to improve upon his work.


Recently torrented Autumn Thunder: 40 Years Of NFL Films Music, and it is fantastic. Sam Spence (who basically *was* NFL Films Music for much of the 70s) did not make me a football fan, but the music made me feel like this was important. In an age in which pro sports leagues can't even produce feasible uniforms for their players, it seems amazing that fifty years ago the NFL paid musicians and composers and the Sabol family to make itself iconic, and that it worked. I guess that's not really a question; I just wanted to prompt you to hold forth on NFL music.

I’m always delighted to hold forth on NFL music, if only to scream, for the 500th time, that CBS desperately needs to replace their NFL jingle. It’s a piece of shit. I wouldn’t even use for a truck ad, it’s so basic. I need an opening theme that feels fucking enormous, as the original MNF theme and Fox's “Sleigh Ride” jingle do. CBS used to have a theme that gave me proper goosebumps, but they trashed it for the soundtrack of a Liver King promo instead. And the worst part is that they’ve stuck with it for over 20 years now, which offends me deeply. They must convene a focus group of 75-year-old paste eaters every offseason to rubber stamp it for the c-suite. Well now, Jethro and Billyjoejimbob still love the song! We’re keeping it! Come on, man. Make an effort here.

And while I’m boomering up the joint, let me expand on my complaint! Opening titles for every sporting event now are too overdone. Ever since Sunday Night Football sicced the chicken-fried steak platter of Faith Hill/Carrie Underwood on America, every other network, across every other sport, followed suit. Now every primetime game has roughly 13 different hype videos, usually sponsored by Progressive, running through the end of the pregame and into the opening sequence. There’s a hype video for the city where the game is being played, usually starring Matt Damon. There’s a hype video for the rivalry, even if it’s Pacers-Hornets. There’s a hype video for all of the games that led to THIS momentous battle of Game 4 of the opening round. There’s a hype video where the players stare directly into the camera and say, “We gotta have this one” while an orchestra conducted by Hans Zimmer plays in the background. There’s a tribute video to the quarterback’s dead parents. There’s hype video featuring old timey footage of Dr. J doing stuff, and then another hype video featuring Lizzo. And then there’s a hype video for the new Wagoneer. It’s all padding, and none of it fires me up. All I need to get a boner for the matchup ahead is:

1. A quick montage of both teams doing cool shit, with the play-by-play guy explaining the stakes, followed by…

2. An awesome jingle.

That’s it. Do that and you’ve got me. Indulge in hype video inflation and I’ll just watch an old episode of Curb until you’re finished dicking around.


Where are all the fat golfers? Fat athletes in general seem few and far between these days. Even our offensive tackles look more and more like just oversized linebackers. Side note to Drew, if in fact he actual screens these himself: I remember seeing David Dixon signing autographs after a Vikings game, and he casually ate an apple in TWO BITES. A ridiculously large man.

I read all of these emails myself, folks. We don’t have a peon do it, which frankly is gross negligence. I demand a toady whom I can push around like a shopping cart. But until that beautiful day comes to pass, I do all this shit manually. You are welcome.

As for fat golfers, they’ve been phased out thanks to the sports science revolution across all sports. If you’re aiming to become a pro, no parent or youth coach is gonna just let you sit around and eat Cheesy Poofs and drink Schlitz all day, à la John Daly. They’re gonna make you work, and you’re gonna do that work because you want the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Big Sports is optimizing our youth athletes to have both the physique and the mechanics of the pros they aspire to be. That means no more fat golfers, no more sluggers with odd batting stances, and no more two-guards who have a janky shooting motion. All of that gets coached out of athletes before they even hit college, and the result is a kind of aesthetic homogenization across them. Your Insta can have personality but your swing can’t. Sad.


My wife and I are in the process of buying our first home, and the school district we're buying in is solidly in the middle of the pack in terms of ranking (173 of 416 in the state, according to some website called Niche). We do not have immediate plans for kids, but it is something we'd want. My wife is already talking about moving to a better school district at some point, but I’m pushing back on that a bit. My thought is we should try to grow within the community we're joining instead of planning to leave before we even moved in. Here's the question: how? I'm not opposed to attending school board meetings, etc., but what exactly should I be advocating for to improve a school district?

You’re asking the wrong man, Max. My kids have gone to public school their whole lives, but we live in a district that’s already very good. Outside of voting for Democrats locally, I’ve done jack shit to make it better. I avoid PTA meetings like they’re court dates. Parents around here, as they are in nearly every school district, are EXTREMELY vocal. If you aim to help improve the district as a whole, you’re gonna have to get significant number of them on your side, and you’re gonna have to deal with a lot of opposition and even more bureaucratic logjams. It’s basically a full-time job, which again is why I avoid it.

Instead, I just focus on MY kids, because they’re really the only kids I give a shit about. If one of our kids is having an issue in class, we have them talk it out with the teacher. For example, the 11-year-old got got on a quiz that brought down his average for the quarter. So I told him to go to his teacher and ask her what he could do to get his average back up so that he would still have a good grade by the end of the quarter. He did just that, and the teacher gave him some advice (and also some reassurance), and within a few weeks his average was back up again. Another time, the 18-year-old broke down in tears after just one class in AP Chem. So then my wife and I were like, “You’re clearly doing too much and it’s not worth your emotional health just to polish your resume.” So she dropped that class for an easier one and is now happy.

You obviously want to live in a good school district, but every school is what you and your kids make of it. So focus on that first before going to a town hall and sticking your dick in the hornet’s nest, because a lot of other parents are out of their fucking minds.

Email of the week!


First time long time. A friend of mine was recently sitting in a physical therapist's waiting room with a recognizable, if not household-name, professional athlete, passing time until their appointments. After a period of prolonged silence, and with no prior discussion, the athlete asked my friend if he had any ChapStick, commenting on the dryness of the weather. My friend did not, and the conversation ended there. But our friend group found this to be an incredibly odd request from a complete stranger, with ChapStick seeming to be a rather personal and unhygienic thing to share. 

We naturally began to wonder how this would have played out if my friend had indeed had ChapStick, as whether the ChapStick was new or used, the request implies that both parties are comfortable sharing it, assuming the athlete would return it once he was done. Alternatively, he was making an assumption that whether new or used, he would keep the ChapStick after use, implying that he is either comfortable sharing it with my friend, or that my friend was willing to surrender his unused ChapStick to this athlete. So my question for you: would you ever share ChapStick with a complete stranger?

If they were famous and cool? Yes. Otherwise, piss off.

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