6. sunday

A rainy, damp to the bones day. NFL football is on the television and watch with aloofness as Strahan run's down field. He was a new rookie. He's not anymore, I guess by he'd be well retired with a weird finger deformation. Maybe it even whistle's and he has fond and hopefully not bad memories of his time spent in the NFL. No mind to the fact there are murderers and rapists in this league, nevertheless there are also many who are good people. There's no basis of a poor attitude with being a terrible and evil person. Not by association or anything else.

Toughness and aggression is the norm. Fancy parties and too skinny models. I do mean too skinny as being smaller than size 6 or 7. Most are zero. How can they handle their rough fucks? I'm safely clueless. Drugs, cliques, and snobbery. I'll tell you that a pro athlete is the worst kind of diva. Trust me. It don't take much to scare them if you know what gets under their skin. They're similitude with all female high school locker rooms. Perception has given me guided insight with their public lives. They mistake family bonds with their wives as not being their mother, or their sister, or their best friend. Come on guy's! Naturally, they cringe worthy mimic their partners. Not very deep stuff. But this isn't a romance advice column and being a pro athlete does no way mean that they're all dumb. The majority of them aren't, yet they're usually angry on the field. Every single one.