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Is Mike Pence Packin’?

US Vice President Mike Pence delivers an update on "Operation Warp Speed" in the Rose Garden of the White House in Washington, DC on November 13, 2020. (Photo by MANDEL NGAN / AFP) (Photo by
Mandel Ngan/AFP via Getty Images

Drew Magary’s Thursday Afternoon NFL Dick Joke Jamboroo runs every Thursday at Defector during the NFL season. Got something you wanna contribute? Email the Roo. Buy Drew’s new novel, “Point B,” here. Drew is off this week.

When Drew asked me if I would do this week’s Jamboroo, I decided that, after years of pretending to know what “Jamboroo” is, I should perhaps take some steps to actually find out. After spending dozens of seconds carefully studying the most recent entries, I was able to determine that, at the very least, it has something to do with football. I asked Drew if it would be a problem that I’ve never watched an entire football game in my life. He said that it would not, and that I could write about whatever I wanted. Which is why, today, we are going to talk about Mike Pence’s dick.

As the Trump presidency has been winding down, one previously overlooked member of the administration has suddenly found himself catching a number of eyes and at least two hearts:

But does Mike Pence’s hog actually resonate with these white lady voters? According to a Politico piece from last year, the vice president’s “folksy Midwestern charm disarmed suburban women.” And if we make the reasonable assumption that “Midwestern Charm” is what Mike Pence calls his penis, it would seem that, at least this time, Kurt Schlichter was right. What’s worse, Mike Pence seems to know it. 

Less than a week ago, as he received the long-awaited coronavirus vaccine on live television, Mike Pence boldly put his Midwestern Charm on display for an entire nation to behold. 

 Doug Mills-Pool/Getty

At a time when people should have been focused exclusively on the miraculous, life-saving concoction being injected into our vice president’s beefy arms, viewers were instead assaulted with this.

While some might argue that what we’re seeing here is merely an odd fold of fabric, or perhaps a bit of testicle and no hog at all, a close viewing of the footage makes clear that what we’re seeing here is almost certainly a dick. 

The way the fabric shifts, the clear glide into the pant leg—all of it the unmistakable result of a Mike Pence member on display.

OK, you might be thinking to yourself, why does any of this matter and can you please talk about something else? Chill, I’m getting to that, and also no.

No one who so confidently thrusts their dick into the eyes of the viewing public is doing so for the first time, especially not Mike Pence, a man who takes great pains to present himself as a wholesome man of God. None of it made sense. Surely this must have happened before. And as I scrolled through hundreds of Getty photos of Mike Pence over the years, I discovered the alarming truth.

Here’s then–U.S. Representative Mike Pence on a stroll with Paul Ryan in 2011.

Chip Somodevilla/Getty

And here’s the faintest of outlines of Mike’s little Pence.

Here’s Mike Pence in 2018 alongside Mother.

Kat Wade/Getty

And here we have the faint dimpling of what is almost certainly Mike Pence’s dick.

Here we have a screenshot of Mike Pence from the virtual RNC this past summer.

And here’s what was also being beamed into our nation’s living rooms.

Finally, here’s Mike Pence on a trip to Vermont just last year.


And here’s that famous Midwestern Charm.

Any one of these images alone might seem harmless, a careless miscalculation of the thickness of his fabric or the positioning of his junk. But taken together, a much more insidious pattern begins to take shape. Has Mike Pence embarked on a nearly decade-long campaign to desensitize the nation to the vague outline of his penis? Is this all a play to subliminally ensnare the millions of suburban women who go weak at the sight of an oddly bulging, poorly tailored pair of pants? And is Mike Pence counting on his raw sexual energy to fuel his own presidential aspirations? It’s impossible to say for sure, but on the other hand: absolutely, yes. 

Of course, what you do with this information is up to you, but I urge everyone to stay vigilant. Stay safe. And now, the other stuff. 

The Games

All games in the Jamboroo are evaluated for sheer watchability on a scale of 1 to 5 Throwgasms.

Five Throwgasms

Titans at Packers: I want to be clear that I did not choose the ratings for any of these. Drew pre-rated the games, and allowed me no input whatsoever. All of which is to say, it appears that the esteemed Jamboroo rating system has been rigged for years. I don’t know how deep the conspiracy goes, nor do I know what a throwgasm is, but I do know a dirty system when I see it. And this reeks of corruption. I take no responsibility for these ratings and can only hope that, in the future, radical transparency reigns.

Rams at Seahawks

Colts at Steelers

Four Throwgasms

Dolphins at Raiders: Here’s a little story about me. Every time I see a tweet or photo that contains two even mildly funny people in it, my immediate instinct is to reply with “they’re fucking.” Ninety-nine percent of the time I have to refrain, because while I find this joke consistently hilarious, I’m able to recognize it is not actually even a little bit clever and the number of people who would get mad at me is almost never worth it. This is especially true as it relates to the Instagram account of one Callista Gingrich, wife of Newt Gingrich and current U.S. Ambassador to the Holy See. As our country’s foremost Pope respecter, Cally has been in a number of photos with the man himself. Why just a few days ago, she posted a lovely photo of her and the Pope viciously fighting over a piece of paper.

It took all of my self-control not to tweet this out with the previously mentioned caption, and I think I deserve some recognition for that. Thank you.

Three Throwgasms

Niners at Cardinals: Here’s a picture of Donald Trump after Mike Pence showed him his dick.

Alex Wong/Gettty

This is what’s called a “callback” (comedy term).

Bills at Patriots

Vikings at Saints

Two Throwgasms

Eagles at Cowboys: I grew up in Dallas, Texas, which meant that for my entire adolescent life, I pretended to be a huge Cowboys fan. This was difficult for me for a number of reasons, not least of which was because of the story I will tell you now. 

The year is 1995-ish. I’m in preschool, and Deion Sanders’s daughter, Deiondra, is in my class. One day at recess, Deiondra and I were both sitting on a relatively new addition to our school’s playground: a big, creaky bench swing. What a delight. The sun on my face, the wind in my hair, friends gathered all around. Surely this is how life was supposed to be. But suddenly, I notice we seemed to be picking up speed and, even more alarming, height. Our teacher had expressly forbidden us from swinging above a certain marker, and we were easily surpassing what was allowed. Yet Deiondra continued to pump. In my terror, I called out that we were not supposed to go this high. Perhaps she’d simply forgotten.

Deiondra had not forgotten. Instead, she turned to me and said, “What are you going to do, tell the teacher?” Absolutely humiliating. With no feasible way of recovering from this kind of devastation, I shouted “no” and waited desperately for our ride of terror to end. I would continue to be owned regularly for the rest of my life. 

Bucs at Lions

Panthers at WFT

Giants at Ravens

One Throwgasm

Browns at Jets: I’m going to be perfectly honest, I kind of thought the Super Bowl had already happened. Also, Browns is a terrible name for a team. Disgusting. 

Falcons at Chiefs

Bears at Jaguars

Bengals at Texans

Broncos at Chargers

Pregame Song That Makes Me Wanna Run Through A Goddamn Brick Wall

For those who don’t know, the guy from Eve 6 has been on a tweeting rampage recently and it’s been incredible. It’s genuinely alarming how good he is at posting.

One of the things he’s been doing is revealing little tidbits about '90s bands and absolutely railing on the Third Eye Blind guy. Anyway, one of their tweets was about the Spin Doctors, and you know what? "Two Princes" still slaps. 

Perfect song.

Gregg Easterbrook Memorial Haughty Dipshit Of The Week

Whether due to genetics or internet poisoning or my years on Wellbutrin, I have an astoundingly bad memory. I can barely remember what I did this morning, much less what anyone else did earlier in the week. I decided that, for this particular semi-inscrutable entry, I’d seek assistance from my friends. 

The Haughty Dipshit of the Week is Emma Carmichael.

Cryptkeeper Al’s Lock Of The Week:

Not sure what this one’s all about, but I did lose the key to the lock on this mirror thing roughly eight years ago.

If anyone knows of a way to open it that doesn’t involve learning to pick locks, please let me know. 

Bad Local Commercial Of The Week!

Anyone else remember this?

Fire This Asshole!

Is there anything more exciting than a coach losing his job? All year long, we’ll keep track of which coaches will almost certainly get fired at year’s end or sooner. And now, your potential 2020 chopping block:

Bill O’Brien—FIRED!
Dan Quinn—FIRED!
Matt Patricia—FIRED!
Matt Nagy
Zac Taylor
Anthony Lynn******************
Adam Gase*
Vic Fangio
Doug Marrone
Doug Pederson*
Mike Zimmer
Jon Gruden
Matt Rhule
(* - potential midseason firing)

Drew did this one too. The whole system is rigged. 

Great Moments In Poop History

God, I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Maybe it’s because I haven’t blogged in a while and I’ve forgotten how to restrain myself. Whatever. This was going to happen eventually, it might as well be now.

My junior year of high school, shortly after I’d turned 17, I was delighted to see that it was blood donation day. Since you had to be 17 to give blood, this was the first year I was able to participate. It felt like a rite of passage, and I was ecstatic. I hadn’t eaten breakfast that day, but I didn’t really think too much of it.

During an off-period, I settled in at the blood donation station, laughing with my fellow 17- and 18-year-olds as I looked pityingly on the foolish infants who were not yet able to give away their blood. Once I got hooked up, the phlebotomist noticed that my blood was coming out a little slow and gave me a ball to squeeze to speed things along. I’m not sure if it was that I was squeezing too hard, or if the anxiety of failing at my sacred task caused my blood pressure to spike, but for whatever reason, my blood started coming out much too fast, to the point that I was on the verge of passing out on the table. Before I could ask them to stop stealing my blood, though, they’d gotten what they needed, and I was ready to put the whole experience behind me.

Half an hour later, though, I noticed that I was feeling semi-awful and figured I should go back to let the blood thieves know. I had to pass through an outdoor hallway to get back to the blood donation station, but as I was walking, my vision started to cloud and I could see the ground coming up to greet me. It was at this point that I promptly passed out. I don’t think I was out for more than a few seconds, but when I came to, I discovered that a few seconds is apparently all one needs to have aggressively shit one’s pants. Still on the ground, I saw the doors burst open in both directions. It was a passing period. 

I must have decided that the best course of action was to continue lying on the ground and pretend that everything was fine, because the next thing I remember, a kid in the grade above me was standing above me and saying, “Uhh, Ashley, are you okay?” I assured him that, yes, everything was great, haha! When everyone seemed to have finally reached their respective classrooms, I decided it was time to make my shit-laden trip to the nurse’s office. A friend drove me home, and I spent the entire ride praying that she would somehow not realize I shit my pants.

The next day at school, that same friend came up to me and asked somewhat bashfully if I had in fact shit myself the previous day. I very coolly replied, “Haha what?? Not that I’m aware of! Haha!!” She never spoke of it again, and except for one person, I have never told anyone I went to high school with about any of this. I feel positive I am going to immediately regret this.

Gametime Snack Of The Week

Frankly, I’m still too anxious over finally telling the poop story to think clearly. Eat whatever you want, I don’t care.

Gametime Cheap Beer Of The Week

 I got this recently, it’s great. 

Alex Guerrero’s Lifehack Of The Week!

Not sure what this one is about either, but just as a reminder, I really would like someone to tell me how to open that lock. 

Sunday Afternoon Movie Of The Week For Jets Fans

Drew had that Youtube link in the rubric he gave me already. [Ed note: It was in last week's Jamboroo.] I have no intention of looking up what it’s actually about but Youtube user M Harris says, “Watch this in religious education class, helpful!” While user Josh says, “Is this that film where the insects eat the dead bird and the naked couple die in hot water?” I don’t know, Josh, but that sounds great!

Gratuitous Simpsons Quote

Milhouse: We got to spread this stuff around. Let’s put it on the internet!

Bart: No, we have to reach people whose opinions actually matter. 

Enjoy the games, everyone.

(The above signoff is also from Drew. To be clear, if you don’t want to enjoy the games, you do NOT have to enjoy the games. Whatever your feelings about the games are, they are valid. You matter.)

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