Anonymous Mailbag

Charlotte McKinney, Kliff Kingsbury

It’s Tuesday, welcome back in to a groggy work week for many of you. 

But what better way to shake off the hangover than with the anonymous mailbag. 

So here we go. 

“So my wife and I found out last week that we are pregnant with our first kid. I am obviously new to this and none of my super close guy friends have had kids yet so it’s all a little new and terrifying. One of the many things I don’t quite understand is that we have to keep it completely secret from all friends and family until she is over 3 months along. I understand the theory, but in the next three months we have a number of occasions where we will be with a ton of friends and family in drinking settings.

Starting next week we will be at a beach house rented by my family for an entire week. My mother has been asking about when we will get pregnant since we started dating (this could be an entire new mailbag entry), and I have to think she will notice when my wife doesn’t want to share a bottle of red wine a night during the trip. Any ideas on how we can keep this all secret? I am all for just telling the parents so we don’t have to spend half our trip pouring out beers to fill with water or “making” me chug her drinks when nobody is looking. I need advice and/or ideas.”

First, congrats, second, your mom is going to notice your wife’s not drinking.

Women, particularly moms hoping for grandkids, notice changes like this. My mom noticed my wife not getting into the hot tub when we were pregnant with our third kid. I didn’t even notice my wife not getting into the hot tub. (Of course that was because I was trying to keep our two oldest kids from drowning at the pool, but I digress.)

So I think you have three options here:

1. Tell your mom and swear her to secrecy.

I understand the three month rule, but do you really think your mom won’t find out if you have a miscarriage between now and then? So what are you protecting her from? You don’t want the masses to know about the pregnancy yet, but why not tell your mom in a situation like this when she’s going to notice that you aren’t drinking anyway? Especially because if you did have a miscarriage in the first three months you’d be obligated to tell your mom anyway so she didn’t keep bringing up when you guys were going to get pregnant and finally have a baby. She’d look like a total asshole talking about when you were going to have a baby right after a miscarriage. So either way she finds out about this pregnancy eventually.

That’s why personally I’m in favor of breaking the three month rule in situations where it’s going to be obvious to people based on your behavior that you’re pregnant.

This is assuming, by the way, that your wife normally drinks a decent amount and her lack of drinking will be noted. If she isn’t a big drinker then this isn’t as big of a deal.  

2. Fake drink

Get a glass of wine — or two — and pretend to sip it. (Honestly, you could also just have a single glass of wine even while you’re pregnant. The French keep drinking throughout their pregnancies and have better results than we do. Blanket pregnancy prohibitions are dumb and designed for people with single digit IQs. If you were going to kill your baby with alcohol you would have already done it when you got drunk and conceived.)

But if you absolutely refuse to drink, take a couple of trips to the bathroom and pour out most of the wine on these trips. 

Sure, you waste the wine, but how much money is that really worth?

It does, however, become tiresome to do it all week. 

3. Claim your wife got upset with you because you said she couldn’t go a month without alcohol.  

And there’s $1k on the line if she can go a month fully sober. 

Say that you don’t think she can’t do it, but that so far she’s lasted a week. 

You can also have her say she’s in the middle of a cleanse, but people who do cleanses on vacation are assholes.

I like this option the least of all.  

That’s why I’d just go ahead and tell your mom and swear her to secrecy. 

“As a poop-phobia sufferer myself I can relate to the girl who is afraid to poop at work. I am 37 and I can say that I have only shit at work once. It was a def-con 5 emergency and I immediately left work and showered, returning to my office a hair over an hour after I ran full speed to the bathroom. If I feel the urge to go at work, I either go at lunch or just hold it until I get home. I also never shit at school K-12.

During college I found what we poop-phobics like to call “safe havens,” the cleanest bathrooms on campus. My 3 go-to places were the rare book room of the library, the basement of the chemistry building and the basement of the English building. These 3 were rarely used, super clean and open 24/7. I used these at all times and even hit up the chemistry building this past fall before a football game for old times sake.

I’ve trained my body to go at 6am every day. Thankfully, most days I am as regular as humanly possible; I wake up, shit then shower and shave. My fear of public pooping is 3 fold. First I am terrified of people knowing I have just pooped. Can’t explain why, but I see a guy in my office every day walking into bathroom with a newspaper and think “Man, to have that confidence.” Second, I am a bit of a germaphobe. I mean, dudes are kind of foul and the thought of sitting on someone’s pee drops or even worse makes me dry heave. Third and most important – I like to take my time. I want to make sure I get it all out so I just have 1 a day.

My friends make fun of me and rightfully so. When we go on trips I bring disinfectant wipes to make sure the seat is clean, even if we’re going to someone’s house. Glad to hear you get lots of emails from guys like me.”

“I also never shit at school K-12.”


How is this possible? You must have a tighter ass clench than Andy Dufresne. 

I used to think people with perfect attendance K-12 were incredible, but this is even more remarkable. 

The only place I won’t poop is at a football game — in a public restroom, suites are fine — at a late night bar, or a concert. And while I think you’re anti-public poop hysteria is insane, everyone has favorite public places to use the bathroom.

I can still name my favorite places in high school, college, and law school. 

“I’ve always heard about older people scrolling through other people’s phone pictures with no thought as to what may be waiting. Never have I experienced it. Recently, I showed my boss an innocuous picture. That led to scrolling. Heavy scrolling. Of course, earlier that day I scored some nudes from the gal and they were prominently featured at the end of the photo book. As he was nearing the end I panicked and grabbed the phone. I’m sure I blew my cover. I stammered and stuttered. What an idiot. I told this to the gf and she has experienced the same thing recently with family members. I assume this issue is widespread. What’s the play here?”

If someone under forty hands me their phone to look at pictures, I say, “Let me know before I get to the naked pictures.”

Now that’s easier to do with friends than it is co-workers, but I think you have to assume old people have no idea what they’re getting into when they dive into a cell phone. They have no concept of how common naked pictures are now or how easy it is to go from junior smiling on a horseback to mom riding reverse cowgirl.

I honestly think every single person reading the mailbag right now under the age of 25 is naked in a picture somewhere in the iCloud. 

That’s why I don’t think you can save naked — or incriminating — photos on your regular phone photo scroll. You have to save those to email and delete them off your regular phone.

By the way, if you had told 14 year old me that one day I’d be giving 20 year olds advice to keep from having too many pictures of naked chicks on their phones I would have lost my mind. Do you know how hard 14 year olds had to work for porn back in 1993? It was porn Vietnam out there, you’re jerking off to sideways purple boobs on Playboy TV, smuggling thirty year old nudie mags where the women had full bushes like you were in a prison yard, stealing your mom’s Sears catalog to look at lingerie photos, scanning the SI swimsuit issue for wet tshirt boobs, hell, if someone got a nipple on a Polaroid it was like cracking Hammurabi’s code.

I honestly can’t even imagine what it’s like to be in high school today when cheerleaders have nudes circulating around on iPhones. I feel like I was born in the 19th century, we used to get turned on by cheerleader bloomers back in my day.

Just a whole different world out there.

By the way, read this article by a woman who argues that men did great things when they had to work harder to see boobs. I think she may be on to something.

Men are total fuckups now because sex — and nudity — has become too easy. 

“Like many SEC couples, my wife and I enjoy reading the mailbag together. We laugh at the poop stories. We Monday Morning Quarterback the tips for getting lucky at Disney World — my wife’s take, “That shit ain’t happening after a full day with a toddler at Disney World.” That said, I’m running into a metaphysical question about the mailbag. Like many SEC husbands, I value the mailbag’s insightful tips on how to score with your wife. The grandpa who wrote about giving your wife long, no-agenda, warm hugs as a foolproof method for a later reward was particularly useful.

Trouble is, because we share the mailbag, my wife has access to the same intelligence the mailbag provides. It’s gotten to the point where when I give her long, no-agenda hugs, she smirks at me and says “Your’re trying to Clay Travis me.” What should I do? Would you consider creating some sort of secret mailbag, maybe as a dead drop like in “The Americans,” where all of us SEC husbands could covertly get our score-with-our-wives tips for the week? By reading the mailbag with my wife, am I also destroying its knowledge? I realize these are deep philosophical questions related to an online space devoted to poop stories, but you must address this.”

The number of men who email about the anonymous mailbag now saying, “Don’t tell her this shit, Clay,” is at epidemic levels. 

Do I need to set up a special email listserv designed just for women and just for men? I can see how you feel like someone is sneaking a peak at your Tecmo Super Bowl controller. 

Also, I hope “You’re not trying to Clay Travis,” your wife, because as my wife can readily attest, that basically means you beg for sex, last three minutes and then check Twitter while you’re both naked in bed.


I’m hoping you can explain to me the male thought process a bit. I’m a young college grad and to be honest, I know I’m attractive. 5’6″ brunette with great boobs and I’m very fit. I’m starting med school in the fall so I’m obviously not a moron. Now that you have a decent picture, my boyfriend of 2 years recently broke up with me for basically no reason. He is now dating a 5’10” red head with Dora the Explorer bangs and no boobs. She’s younger than him (he’s 24, I’m 22, she’s 20) & extremely immature. She wants to be a fashion designer.

Sex was definitely not a problem in the relationship considering we had sex almost every other day per my request most of the time.

I’m not a crazy girlfriend (and believe me, I know girls that are). All of his friends think he’s lost his mind because she and I are so completely different. So I’m just looking for some insight into what’s going through his head. At this point, I’m not interested in getting back together with him at all. Just more curious about why you think he’s with her.”

He’s with her because she’s 20 and he doesn’t want to be in an adult relationship with a girlfriend outside of college. You’re going to med school, that’s a serious life choice. At some point if he stays with you he has to make decisions about your future and life beyond dating college aged girls. 

And I’m going to be honest with y’all — there is literally no point in a guy’s life that is more fun than when he’s in his 20’s and dating college aged girls. Now, there are certainly points in his life where he’ll be more satisfied with where he is than in his 20’s dating college girls — as you age your satisfaction level overtakes your fun level — but there will never be a period of time in any guy’s life that is more fun than when he is single and in his 20’s.

That’s the honest truth. Your husband may lie to you and say, “Boy, taking these kids to Disney World is just as much fun as Spring Break in college,” but he’s totally lying. It’s more satisfying, but it most assuredly isn’t more fun. 

In general, no man should get married before he’s thirty. And I say that as a guy who got married at 25. We’re just not ready for marriage before thirty. If all men unilaterally couldn’t marry before thirty, I think women would be so much happier with our sex. Because you wouldn’t be stuck dating some 25 year old expecting him to get married to you in the near future. You’d know the time frame.  

So his decision is not really about you and it’s not really about her either, it’s about what you both represent. Sure, you may be better looking and you’re a better catch and you’re probably smarter, but you’re real life and he’s not ready for real life right now. Better you find that out now — just as you’re starting med school — than have to deal with his bullshit while you’re fighting your way through med school. 

The positive for you is this — if you’re hot and smart and a doctor, you’re not going to have a hard time finding a guy. In fact, you’re probably going to marry another doctor who you meet in med school and end up dominating life. 


“I had a girl that I used to be coworkers with that I always had a huge crush on. Given that I have a personal rule of not dating coworkers and that I was actually her boss, I decided not to ask her out until I had moved on to a different job (which just recently happened). I ask her out with a text saying, “Do you want to get drinks on Wednesday?” She accepts, and we go out on that Wednesday.

The date goes very well. So well so that after we’re done with dinner and drinks, she suggests we go to a second bar to continue the date. I of course take her there, and about an hour into our time there (3.5 hours into the date overall), she casually brings up that she has a boyfriend.

There’s no way she doesn’t know this seems like a date. Did I just get George Costanza’d What’s my play here? Do I text her and call her out about it? Do I try to steal her away from her boyfriend? Or do I just wallow in self-pity like Derek on the Bachelorette? I’d love to hear your advice about this.”

I honestly would have said this: “Wait, you have a boyfriend? Isn’t he going to be pissed when you bang me?”

That’s the perfect line because it points out — HELLO, YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND! — while also letting her know that it’s clear to her that the time you’ve been spending together isn’t about you being friends. (Even better, you’re also subtly making it seem like she wants to bang you here. We already know you want to bang her because you’re a guy and she’s attractive. But this puts the ball in her court.) 

Now she has to explain her actions. Yours are straightforward, you took her out for dinner and drinks because you like her. Presumably she knows this. So why did she go? If she just thinks you’re friends and that this was some kind of goodbye dinner, she is obligated to say it once you confront her with your life.

If she waited four hours to mention her boyfriend then my guess is she expected you to reference it. The fact that you didn’t immediately call her on the boyfriend has led to you having to email a guy who writes on the Internet to figure out what she meant.

The best way to figure out what anyone means is to just straight up ask them.  

In the meantime, let this be a lesson to all women — and men — if you go out drinking alone with a member of the opposite sex who isn’t married, that’s a date. 


You can say it isn’t, but you’re lying. 

“It all started with a college spring break of mine down in Florida. I got into a drunken argument at dinner with one of my buddies and it got pretty heated. After it was over an older couple –early 40s or so– sitting across from us called me over and told me I was right (of course I was). Naturally they became my new best friends. Several shots later, they start to talk about strip clubs and if any of us had been while on SB. No, but I’m intrigued. They tell me of this great place a few miles down and says I should come with them, invite whoever I want. My friends are losers so I go with them alone (Mistake #1?).”

At this point am I the only person who sees this ending in a strange threesome? I read this first paragraph and I couldn’t wait to continue.

Also, what the fuck do you get into a fight with your buddy about on spring break? I’m not kidding about this — I can’t remember ever getting in a serious argument with any guy friend of mine from the ages of 16 to the present. It’s possible I’m wrong and I’ve pissed off my guy friends somehow and they still hate me for it, but I honestly don’t remember any legit disagreements that could have led to us splitting up.

Certainly not on spring break.  

If this happens then you need new guy friends. 

“We pull up to the strip club and it can’t be any later than about 7pm so it’s not very crowded. I to this day have no idea who the two people are that brought me here, but I’m partly convinced they owned the place. Free drinks, lap dances whatever I want. It was heaven. But eventually they decided to leave and I was left to fend for myself.”


What were the married couple thinking? Did you not live up their strange college kid in a threesome standards? The only thing weirder than bringing a random college kid to a strip club at 7 PM is leaving him there drunk off his ass by himself. 

“As I’m about to walk out and catch a cab, one of the strippers I had grown fond of comes up and grabs my hand. Not really sure what to think I follow her back behind the roped area into a booth and get some one-on-one time with what may soon be my new girlfriend. She keeps referring to me as “Tony’s brother” (who the fuck is tony?). I go along with it. Next thing I know she rips down my pants and gives me one of the more aggressive blow jobs I’ve had to this day. I’m not sure how I got to this point but I’m also not going to stop it. Once it’s over I’m not sure what to do so I half way pull up my pants and run as fast as I can out the door without looking back.”


Does he run the place? Was Tony the old married dude there with you? If I had to guess I would say that Tony paid the stripper to blow you before he left. 

What a guy, that Tony.  

“So let me first clarify that during this whole ordeal I was 10/10 wasted. Entire night is blurry. But after telling one of my buddies about it the next morning he said something I will never forget: “You know strip clubs have an extremely large percentage of trannys that work there? There’s a 50/50 chance you got blown by a dude.”

It has haunted me to this day. Is this true? Should I be concerned? Am I gay now? Any input is appreciated.”

Strip clubs do not have a high percentage of dudes that masquerade as women working there. 

Come on, has you friend never been to a strip club? 

There’s like a ten percent chance you got blown by a dude. 

At best. 

So, rest easy, you’re probably straight.


Send your anonymous mailbag questions to

As always, full anonymity assured. 

Written by Clay Travis

OutKick founder, host and author. He's presently banned from appearing on both CNN and ESPN because he’s too honest for both.