I like watching documentaries, eating cake, playing Apples to Apples, hugging dogs, and talking about politics and culture. I don’t like zombies, cold, intoxicants, and being told jokes.
What do you do with house guests who are strangers? When their country has just been attacked and, at that point, still unknown numbers of their citizens killed?
Well, if you’re us, you talk about third-wave feminism. And yourselves. And you roast marshmallows and wander through the woods and into your new town for dinner.
A deft 911 dispatcher can do little to prevent domestic violence when fellow players say nothing, the NFL covers up and downplays abuse, and fans either think women are lying or have it coming.