Anonymous Mailbag

Charlotte McKinney, Kliff Kingsbury

It’s Tuesday, time for the anonymous mailbag, the greatest thing on the Internet today. 

As always, these are your questions and stories, sent directly to me at 

Here we go:


We are approaching the 10 year anniversary of what we refer to as “Cairo.” Ten years ago, as college kids at an ACC school that I’d rather not name, about 9 of us went to see our boys play FSU. Being the broke college students we were, we stayed at a sketchy Best Western a little ways out of Tallahassee in Cairo, GA. This is your typically shitty, one red light Georgia town. To our surprise, the hotel had a Mexican restaurant/bar attached that didn’t care if we were 21 or not. It was all middle-aged locals and then 9 college guys. At some point in the night, 3 of the guys in our group ventured off to a room with one of these middle-aged locals. Upon arriving in the room, they realized her husband was in the room and prepared to watch. Regardless of how creepy this is, they said “Fuck It” and all got blowjobs.

Although it’s been ten years, we still have questions from that night and I thought a gay Muslim could help sort things out. Question 1- should the husband in the corner have been a deal breaker? Question 2- what are the chances this was filmed and they are on some creepy porn site?”

I have so many questions about this before we get to answering your questions. First, “Cairo,” is the perfect name for a short story that someone should write about this night. Second, how were the three guys selected? Did she proposition all nine of you and only three were willing to accept? Or did she pick those three and reject the other six of you? If six of you got rejected, how bad does it feel to be rejected by a middle-aged group sex aficionado in Cairo, Georgia? I’m not sure how you recover from that going forward.  

Third, do the other two dudes stand and watch or do they hang out in the bath room? I mean, that situation has to be so awkward, right? You’re in a scummy motel in middle of nowhere Georgia with some lady’s husband in the corner of the hotel room, your buddy is getting blown and you just stand there and wait your turn? I’d be so tempted to make small talk with the husband just to cover the awkwardness. (Sidenote, odds this husband is an FSU fan on Twitter and has called me gay? 100%. Either that or he’s a Georgia fan and regularly calls in to local sports radio to question Mark Richt’s decisionmaking.)

Now to answer your questions:

1. Probably, yes. Unless the wife was incredibly hot. 

2. He had to film it somehow, right? Your buddies are probably on MILFHUNTER 743: College boys edition. 

My own question, what’s the protocol on finding someone else’s significant other on a porn website? Given how prevalent taping sex acts is now, there has to a ton of normal amateurs — that is, non-professionals — who are online naked. What do you do if you see your friend’s wife, girlfriend, husband or boyfriend in one of these videos?

I mean, you don’t know for sure it’s them, right? It might be them from ten years ago and it could just be someone who really looks like them. But at the same time, wouldn’t you want to know if you or your significant other were somewhere on the Internet naked? This is such an ethical dilemma. What do you do?

Sidenote: will every Presidential candidate, male or female, for the rest of recorded history be naked somewhere? Will we start to have a standard for what’s acceptable presidential sex? Like America’s totally fine with missionary sex with one person, but we’re drawing the line at participating in a gang bang? What if Bill Clinton and John F. Kennedy were 25 today?

Hell, are you really telling me Donald Trump doesn’t have a sex tape? Or twenty of them? 

“Since you’re a gay Muslim terrorist, I feel you’re probably the most-qualified person to answer this question: how much money would it cost to buy a nuke? Not to steal a nuke, not to build one myself, but to legitimately purchase a nuclear warhead from the government of one of the world’s nuclear powers, USA, China, India, Pakistan, UK, France, North Korea, and Russia (maaaybe Israel and Iran, but not Iraq). I know what you’re thinking- no one would never sell me a nuke- but if you offered the USA $1 quadrillion (that’s a thousand trillions), you bet your ass they’d pony up. Anyone can be bought.

Now, I have neither the cash nor the motivation to purchase a nuke, but if I did, this would be my strategy. Countries that have high GDP and a commitment to international/ethical law will probably be overpriced. Furthermore, I’d have to expect that the amount I’m paying would totally counterbalance the emotional and economic goodwill felt towards that country, as all that will be lost, in addition to any international trade. That lands us with North Korea, who has (probably) the shoddiest of nukes, but no moral backbone, and no money. The nominal GDP of North Korea in 2014 was $15.4 billion, or roughly half that of the state of Vermont. I think Kim Jong Un would gladly fork over a nuke for 100x his GDP, bringing us to a final number of $1.5 trillion.”

Great, now the anonymous mailbag is on the NSA’s radar.


I think you’d only be able to buy a nuke from a rogue state. Like, I don’t think there’s any amount of money that America would sell a nuke for. I’d say the same is true for the UK, France, and Israel. But I’m more nervous about the third world. I’m 100% certain North Korea would sell you a nuke, but it would explode before you could take it anywhere. (Also, where do you take a nuke? You can’t just keep it in your barn.) 

This is like every plot for every James Bond-esque movies for the last twenty years — really rich dude buys illegal weapons of mass destruction and uses them for terrorist reasons. (Or just to destroy the world for no reason. Because, evidently, there are tons of really rich people who dream of destroying the world).

I think Kim Jong Un would sell a nuke for much less than a trillion dollars, let’s say a hundred billion. But you’d have to make contact with North Korea and somehow get your money into the country. I think the difficulty of moving a hundreds billion dollars around is underrated. You can’t wire transfer that much, which means you might have to physically move it. If you’ve seen “Breaking Bad” you know that a few million dollars is a massive amount of money to move. So I have no idea what you would do when it came to moving that much money.  

“Long story short, I have an amazing husband whom I love very much. But he is beyond vanilla in the bedroom. I have offered everything… every orifice, offered every combination of threesome, everything. He’s just not interested.

It’s not that sex is bad with him, far from it, but I’ve been in enough relationships to know that it’ll get boring. I’ve tried to dominate him, and he giggles. I want to have sex outside, he lectures me about the law. It’s not good.

So my question is this. 1- is he lying about having a kink ? Everyone has a kink… right? If so, how can I make him open up? I’ve literally told him I’ll try anything once. 2- if he’s not lying, what are other ways to not get bored?

Thanks you big sexy gay man.”

This reminds me of the “Curb Your Enthusiasm” where Larry says he has no kinky sexual desires because when he and his wife get divorced he doesn’t want her to have any embarrassing sex stories about him.

I think you just take control of the sex. Instead of asking him what he wants, you lead him where you want to go. My guess is he’ll follow and you’ll find something he really likes that he may not even know he really likes.

Put it this way, your husband says he doesn’t want to have sex outside, but if you tell him you’re only having sex outside tonight, put on heels and nothing else, open the door and walk outside, how many husbands do you know who aren’t going outside with their wives? (By the way, from a husband’s perspective, putting on heels and getting naked solves like 99.9% of all our marital issues.)

Good luck.

“I work at a large firm, but also within a small, decently close-knit group; half of us are mid-to-late 20-somethings. As you can imagine, this leads to the types of relationships where outside-work socializing is very common and really nothing is off limits during lunch conversations at the office.

There’s a girl in the group that’s notorious for her crude humor, and eventually most conversations with her end up in the gutter. Today she told us that they used to pee on each other in the shower on occasion.

She insists that this was not a usual thing, and that it was never a fetish-type deal, it was just something she did one day spontaneously – pissed on his leg – because it would be funny. Now, I’m all for relieving myself in the shower when alone… but I’m not down to be peed on.

Since it’s become a debate among us, we need your opinion. This isn’t nearly the weirdest shit I could imagine doing, but do you consider this normal? How long would you have to be dating someone before urinating on them without warning is funny, and not disgusting?” 

I think a very small percentage of couples would pee on each other in the shower because they thought it was funny. Primarily because I don’t think it’s that funny. 

I think a much larger percentage of men could pee on each other because they thought it was funny. For instance, I would bet that every week in a college or pro locker room, someone is peeing on someone else in the shower. And they’re doing it because they think it’s funny. I mean, it’s the shower and pee is sterile and mostly water. I know this thanks to Bear Grylls. Having said that, I would bet that 95% of men and women, conservatively, have never peed on each other.   

“A few years ago I went to enjoy a nice, Sunday afternoon lunch and then thought I’d go for a walk in a popular spot in my then-hometown’s Civil War park, Chickamauga. Evidently, going to walk immediately after consuming the fine Southern meal of meatloaf, green beans, turnip greens and squash casserole is a bad idea. It’s a very bad idea.

My walk was scheduled to be around 2.5 miles. I walked from my parking spot, up to a famous hill in the battlefield, turned around and walked back. I’d made this walk many, many times without incident. It’s important to point out that there are no restrooms along the walk. The national park service is attempting to restore the park to its condition as it was in 1863, so there’s not a lot of forest either. Essentially, as the Dixie Chicks sang, there are a lot of “Wide Open Spaces” in the area.

The walk was perfect for the first mile or so. When I got to the top of the hill, the official halfway point and, somewhat obviously, the furthest point from my car, things changed. Quickly. I felt the familiar gurgle in my stomach. You know the exact one I’m talking about. However, while this was unsettling given my distance to any restroom, and the fact that there was literally no place to hide should an emergency shit need to occur…and the park was REALLY crowded…I wasn’t alarmed. That is until I got to the bottom of the hill and things really started to get uncomfortable. It was at this point that I had to alter my normal stride to the clinch walk. You know the one. Of course, the downside to this is that you generally walk slower that way and it was becoming increasingly obvious that I needed to walk faster. So, I tried speeding up. This was a horrible idea. The gurgle had now changed to an angry churning and my moving faster only made it worse. It was a this point that panic began to set in.

My head was on a swivel as I looked for someplace to get at least a little relief. There was no place to be found. People were walking everywhere. They were cheerful as it was a beautiful day. I was less than friendly. I was on a mission. Then…it happened. I tried to get some measure of relief of the pressure by squeezing one off. Alas, it wasn’t just gas. That’s right…there was debris. And not just a little. So, as I stood in the middle of the park thinking, “I’ve just shit myself”, my body was excited that the urge to shit was satisfied and, evidently, fooled into thinking that I was on the toilet. So, waves after waves of shit started. It oozed down my legs (thank God I was wearing pants) and out my pants leg. I’m not joking. I’ve never shit like this in my whole life.

I was still about half a mile away from my car and the shit wouldn’t stop. I mean, it was literally uncontrollable. Once I finally made it to my car, I had no idea what I was supposed to do then. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I was just trying to get to the car. That’s when I spotted the Sunday paper in the back seat. That glorious Sunday paper…with all of its ads and extra stuff. So, I put it in the driver’s seat and plopped my shit stained ass on it. I broke every speed record known to man on my way home, managed to shit only once while I was actually sitting, and made the walk of shame into my house. Mercifully, no one was home. I went straight to the tub and proceeded to clean up the worst mess you could ever imagine.” 

Up until now, the only person to ever shit himself on Chickamauga battlefield was Union General William Rosecrans. (This is like the best Civil War joke ever in the anonymous mailbag and 1% of you, including the shitter, are probably going to enjoy it).

What we really need here is more detail from the people walking on the trail. They had to notice this was going on, right? I mean, I can tell just by what my 11 month old’s face looks like when he’s pooing. A grown man shitting himself on a Civil War hiking trail can’t be that common.

As always, thanks for the emails. Send your anonymous mailbag questions to

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.


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