Must be some sort of plan, surely the doctors have consulted, coordinated, and determined the best way forward. Only the family can know, they certainly want it all to get better, for the better, the sooner the better, the drugs don't even kick it anymore. For now, ignore the obvious seems the play, endure the embarrassment. Couldn't happen to a sweller guy, shameless as ever, raging mutterer, indignant about the lack of dignity. All the while, on the take, taking, indistinguishable from the other takers, an uncommon looter.
The sound of snoring, the true anthem of the NFL. Referees waving yellow flags, yawning spectators, ceremonial attire. Like professional boxing and Elvis before their falls, bloated and boring, likely compromised, big paydays above all, nothing but a foolish spectacle, owned by Vegas. Thirty minutes of action packed into three hours, players rarely looking tired, most of them playing less than ten plays. For excitement, participation, and fun, the actual version pales in comparison to Madden 2020. Get all the pros, without the cons.
Alert the crew, I'm out in the burning forest, the Governor is doing a commercial, it's hotter he says, it's wetter he says, it's somebody's fault he cries. The implication, supposedly, is that it's better to be colder and dryer. Not so sure about that, but a dry frozen cold is undeniably colder than a wet unfrozen cold. He's acting like a meteorologist, he's pointing, he's asking questions and answering them himself, he's coughing awkwardly, like it's forced, odd, odd, odd. Smoke or virus or neither, I wondered.