Ana dozes on the train, her shoulders hunched, her head resting against one curled, black-and-white-glove-adorned fist. You could say she’s Tebowing in her sleep, but she would resent you for it. He’s such a drag, and he’s not even that good of a football player. You could say she looks like The Thinker, that Rodin sculpture. Ana would prefer that description. She doesn’t know a lot about art, but she’d consider the comparison to something beautiful and respected and time-honored to be flattering.
Yesterday I found myself watching Monday Night Football with my roommate. Willingly. I think there's something wrong with me. Actually, I do think it'd be kind of hilarious to get some of my fellow sports-inept friends together next year and create a fantasy football team. Then we could write a blog or make web videos about our ridiculous learning experience. Would you read and/or watch that?