Anonymous Mailbag

Charlotte McKinney, Kliff Kingsbury

It’s Tuesday, time for the anonymous mailbag. 

I’m writing the mailbag from Miami, where I spent the morning interviewing Jeb Bush for our Friday college football show as well as the Outkick podcast. Props to the Bush camp for talking with Outkick. Also, props to you guys. So many of you read Outkick now that the Bush camp realized a good way to reach a large audience of college football fans was via this interview. 

The Bush campaign will be tailgating at Georgia-Tennessee this weekend. 

Our offer is outstanding to other Presidential candidates as well. 

I think y’all will enjoy the interview. 

On to the anonymous mailbag. As always, you can reach me at clay.travis@gmail.com:

“A few months ago, my friends and I had a night out on the town. We pregamed especially hard (dope), and decided to hit a bar that encourages dancing/grinding (also dope). We are all absolutely trashed dancing our lives away while continuing to drink. Slowly but surely, my friends start to uber home as the night goes on, until it’s just me and one other buddy. The bar closes and we decide to go home as well.

We are desperately trying to get an uber but are unsuccessful. Finally, me and my friend think we find an uber and we jump in a car (key word: “think”). This guy takes us to the apartment where all of the other guys from earlier in the night are passed out and then asks to use the bathroom. We say “absofuckenlutely, come on up” because we are sweethearts when we are drunk. This large man walks with us into the apartment and we provide him a toilet and leftover pizza that the other drunk friends ordered but didn’t finish. I then realize I left my phone in his car and I will walk down with him to get it. I begin to walk with him and he assures me he will go down and bring it back up and that I can stay in the apartment. That sounds awesome to me so i go back in the apartment and wait patiently. Dude doesn’t come back…. At least not yet. My buddy and I officially pass out for the night.

When all 6 of us wake up the next morning, there are 2 laptops, an IPAD, 3 phones, 2 wallets, and a pair of car keys all missing. He came back and jacked all of our shit while we were all drunkenly passed out.

Question: Do you think this guy does this all the time? Just scopes out hammered people late at night, acts like uber, assesses their drunk level, then steals shit from them. Or do you think this was his first time and he was just like “dear god these guys are fucking idiots, I’m gonna jack all of their shit?”

This sounds like a pretty decent criminal strategy to me. 

I take Uber all the time, all over the country. And it’s occurred to me several times that I just assume the car slowing down to pick me up is the Uber I called. That’s partly on me, because I don’t pay that much attention to the brand of car of the driver’s picture. If I’m doing that sober, can you imagine the opportunity when drunk people are involved. 

The guy clearly came up to use the bathroom to scope out your apartment and ensure that everyone was wasted. 

Then when you left the phone — I wonder if he just took it from you so he could have an excuse to return even if you didn’t know it was missing? — he had a reason to come back up. When he sees all of you have passed out, he takes his team stealing all your stuff, vanishes, and he gets away with a pile of loot. 

Honestly, I know many of you reading Outkick uber — and lots of the time the reason you take uber is because you’ve been drinking — so let this be a lesson to you. Be careful drunk ubering. 

“So this past Saturday I’m at home, drinking a few beers, and watching football with my wife. We’re both 26, graduates from the University of Arkansas, and just got married this past June.

Anyway, about the start of the second quarter of the Hogs game, she starts kissing my neck and what not. While obviously I enjoy making out with my wife, I’m desperately trying to watch what at this point is a very intense game. She then declares that she wants to take this party to the bedroom. Not wanting to set the precedent that football is more important than my wife (not this early in the marriage anyway), I agree. Hell with my stamina I figure I’ll miss one drive tops.

We make it to the bedroom and I notice that the game is already on on the bedroom TV too, but I promise myself I will focus on sex. I’m successful in this task for a few minutes, but after a position switch we find ourselves in doggie style, facing the TV. And I mean the sex is great, but this is SEC football damnit. So here I am, moderately drunk, banging my wife, and watching football all at the same time. Sounds like every man’s dream, right? It was, right until Brandon Allen fumbled the football, and before I could catch myself, I yelled “SHIT!” rather loudly. My wife looks back at me, and asks what the hell that was about. While I try to think of a good excuse for a man to scream an obscenity in the middle of sex, she looks up and notices for the first time that the game has been on in the background. “Were you just watching football in the middle of sex?” she asks, and I slowly pull out and prepare to receive an ass chewing. To my surprise, she simply says, “Well maybe if you’re distracted you’ll last longer,” and the sex recommences.

So my question is, should it bother me and/or my wife that I was distracted by football in the middle of sex? I mean most men, in the south at least, probably would be, right? Also is it normal that my wife is cool with me watching football while we bang, or is this some kind of setup she’s going to use for blackmail later on?”

If your wife is okay with you having sex with her while you watch football, you don’t ask questions. 

Also, it’s a credit to your stamina that you were able to keep an erection while watching Arkansas play football at all this year. 

“Anyone who listens to talk radio has heard hosts and callers alike blast early season rankings and claim that the AP and coaches polls don’t matter — yet we use them constantly. I’ve had enough of this. I know probably more than anyone how little they matter.

Please keep this story anonymous. Though I am not in journalism anymore, anyone who I haven’t already told this story to doesn’t really need to know it’s me. I will be happy to verify its authenticity.

I was an College Football AP Poll Voter for one year. The first reason the AP Poll is dumb is that if you’re an active writer covering the team (which many of the voters are), you pretty much can’t watch any games other than those of the team you cover because the poll is due by Noon ET on Sundays. Not like you have time to DVR and go back and watch them to evaluate. Any non gay muslim can understand that actually seeing the teams helps to properly rank them.

This is especially difficult if you like to drink, gamble and chase women on the road like I did.

In the middle of that season, I flew to Chicago to cover a road game for the team whose beat I was assigned to. After a mid-afternoon kick, once I was done filing all my stories, I went out to a local establishment to meet up with some alumni of the SEC school from which I graduated. Shots were flying all night, and I wasn’t used to the 4 a.m. Chicago last call — long story short, I woke up in Bonus Land — AKA still absolutely hammered — naked with my computer on my lap, and someone banging on the door of one of my friend’s houses I was apparently sleeping at — screaming at me that I needed to get up or I was going to miss my flight.

Luckily, I had never even checked into my hotel, so I had all my stuff with me, and I quickly dressed and put clothes on. It was 10:15 CT, which meant my poll was due in 45 minutes. I asked my buddy to drive the rental car back to the airport and I would pay for his cab home so I could do my poll on the way (about a 15 minute ride). I figured I could finish what I started in my drunken stupor the night before, submit it from O’Hare, and be good to go. Except my laptop was dead because I had fallen asleep with it open the night before. My phone was also dead. I grabbed my buddy’s phone and frantically started over from scratch while mine charged in the car. Luckily, my phone turned back on before we arrived at the airport. I was able to barely finish looking at scores and vote in the security line of O’Hare — still deep, deep in Bonus Land.

These are the people ranking your college football teams on a week-to-week basis. I know I wasn’t the only one.

So, yeah, polls are stupid. Thank God for the playoff.” 

AP poll voter confessions is the least erotic — yet potentially most fascinating — new angle of the anonymous mailbag. 

As competitive as the SEC is, I’m surprised fans haven’t started sending hookers to poll voter hotel room doors. 

Scene: a comely escort named Destiny knocks on an old, fat, white man’s door. 

Old, fat, white man answers the door. 

Autumn: “Is this (old, fat white man) I’m Destiny. (Drops trenchcoat to reveal she’s wearing nothing underneath). Alabama’s number one, don’t you think?”

This is the most college football scandal possible. Which means I’m totally convinced it has happened before. There is a 100% chance that someone has traded poll votes for sexual favors. 100%. 

“Dear Clay,

I am a 20 year old at (school edited). Recently, due to the cost of beer and rent, I have been forced to get a job applying my basic tutoring abilities. I was hired by my institution’s athletic academic center as a writing center tutor. Essentially I just sit there, do my homework and once every 4 hours an athlete will come through and have me proofread a paper. It’s a great job, plus I don’t have to give up my Saturday’s like most other jobs in town.

Here’s the issue: There is this incredibly hot volleyball player that I have been seeing on a regular basis. And she’s the full package; Hot, perfect body, smart, has a goofy sense of humor, and is a genuinely nice human being. I am a decent looking guy and in the honors college, but I am definitely out of my league. However, I guess she’s sick of the athletes and wants to date me. BUT I AM NOT ALLOWED TO DATE HER BECAUSE OF STUPID NCAA REGULATIONS.

Tutors are not allowed to date athletes, even if they are not directly tutoring that particular student. If I get caught dating her, I will get fired. Which is fine, I can deal with that, but she might lose her scholarship which is the only way she is getting through school. If even a little of it is pulled, she would have to drop out.

I really need the money, but I am not sure I can afford to pass this girl up. What should I do in your Gay Muslim opinion? Do I quit the job and give up my football Saturday’s for a relationship that might not pan out? Or do I keep the job and hope that our paths’ cross after school?” 

Quit the job, date the hot girl. 

It’s a gallant gesture on your part. My only concern is that she might view you as hotter based on the tutor-student relationship. It’s forbidden love of a sort. Once you quit the tutor job are you just a regular dude to her?

That’s why I’d be tempted to keep the job and secretly date her because how do you prove two people are dating on a college campus? How often do college kids even date now? Everyone goes out in groups, right? You probably overlap at the same social scenes quite a bit. While I understand her reticence, I can’t imagine that scholarship athletes lose their scholarships for dating their tutors. At least, that is, so long as they’re not going to BYU. 

For instance, do you think LSU is kicking Leonard Fournette out of school if he starts dating a tutor? Please. Can anyone point to any student who has lost his or her scholarship for this reason? 

I think the worst case scenario here is that you’d lose your job. Which you’re already willing to quit anyway. And I don’t see anyway that they can definitely prove you’re dating. 

Sneaking around might prove to be the most exciting part of the relationship. 

So ask her out and good luck.  

“Clay –

I go to the gym a couple of times a week, so over a period of a few years, the frequency of this incident occurring is pretty small, but I am shocked that it would ever happen.

On at least three occasions, I have walked into the locker room and seen an old naked guy with one leg propped up on the sink counter using the community-property hairdryer to blow-dry his crotch.

Who does this in the privacy of their own home, let alone in a gym locker room? Why is it necessary to prop your leg up on the sink counter in order to dry yourself? Will you add this as a “banned activity” when you publish your locker room etiquette book?”

Someone has to use this hair dryer after that old dude used it to blow dry his crotch?

I just don’t understand what he could be possibly thinking. 

Who blow dries their crotch at home? (Although, now that I’m thinking about it, that probably feels pretty great, right? Maybe this guy is actually a genius). 

But I digress, it’s totally unacceptable in a public bathroom. 

And you have to be a sick bastard to even think of doing it. 

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.