Step 1: Acknowledge your gay teammate
Say hello. Say “nice game.” Perhaps give him a compliment on a tackle, or a catch, or a great run. Maybe throw in a high-five or, if that is too uncomfortable for you (it shouldn’t be), give any another indication that you’re happy he’s on your team, even if he plays for a different team off the field.
Step 2: Acknowledge that he’s human
Ask a question about his life. How’s his family? His partner? Talk about shared interests (Yes! You likely have shared interests with this homosexual human!) If you don’t know what this person likes, ask. Or talk about the weather! Or Beyoncé! Not because he’s gay, but because everyone, gay straight, male or female, Madagascan village elders or Inuit whale hunters, has something to say about Beyoncé. She’s the universal conversation starter.
Step 3: Get undressed
Because you just spent two hours playing in the mud and dirt, and it’s a locker room and you’re an adult — and get over yourself and seriously — you have to change out of your uniform. You smell like shit.
Step 4: Realize at this point, you’re looking at your gay teammate more than he’s looking at you
Why is he not looking at you? You’re attractive! You work out! Are you not his type? Maybe he’s only into punters. Oh my God, it’s almost as if your teammate is concentrating on getting cleaned up and getting home to his life, just like you were supposed to be before you got preoccupied with checking him out to see if he’s checking you out.
Step 5: Do your usual stealth glances of other naked teammates
Because straight men size each other up all the time in locker rooms. But it’s from a place of competition, which is far more acceptable for some reason. Bros bein’ bros, etc.
Step 6: Realize at this point, you’re being paid millions of dollars to exist on this team with this gay person, so you’ll survive somehow
At the absolute worst, this teammate finds you attractive and has a moment of weakness and lets one little glance slip that you catch, and you notice because you’re (of course) already staring at him. Now you know how the thousands upon thousands of breasts you’ve stared at slack-jawed in your lifetime feel. Congratulations, Margaret, you’ve just become a woman!
Step 7: Count the number of half-naked teammates around you and divide by 10
That’s how many actually are gay, whether they’ve stated it publicly or not. And they’ve been there all along, since you started playing football in high school, and somehow you’re still alive and unscathed and making millions of dollars.
Step 8: Shower
Because, again, you smell. If your gay teammate is showering at the same time, kudos to you for noticing he walked into the showers. Why are you watching him so closely, anyway? Seriously, are you cruising him?
Step 9: Dress, go home
And play with the piles of money you’ve earned from somehow being brave and manly enough to put on skin-tight capri pants, a jock strap and give other grown men really aggressive hugs and wrestle them to the ground.
This tree makes の sense.
Are you fucking kidding me.
Top 10 reasons to love winter until the bitter end
Why you should stop being such a hater when it comes to cold weather.
I had a patient in the clinic who really did not want an abortion but who had no resources to cover the costs of prenatal care or childbirth. She was single and without insurance coverage but made just enough money to be ineligible for state assistance. She already had outstanding bills at the hospital and with the local ob-gyn practice. No doctor would see her without payment up front.
We were willing to do the abortion for a reduced rate or for free if necessary. But she really didn’t want an abortion. Once I understood her situation, I went to the phone and called the local ‘crisis pregnancy center.’
"Hello, this is Dr. Wicklund."
Dead silence. I might as well have said I was Satan.
"Hello?" I said again. "This is Dr. Wicklund."
"Hello," very tentatively, followed by another long silence.
"I need help with a patient," I said. She came to me for an abortion, but really doesn’t want one. What she really needs is someone to do her prenatal care and birth for free."
"What do you expect us to do?"
I let that hang for a minute.
Motivated by a strong desire to show that “average is beautiful,” Lamm has decided to make his designs come to life with a doll called “Lammily.”
Lamm decided to take matters into his own hands after being bombarded with questions about where to buy a Barbie of normal size. The entreprenuer is offering prototypes of his toy to the first people to donate to his Kickstarter campaign, but his plan is to evetnually be able to distribute the doll widely online and in retail.
The Lammily doesn’t just have the realistic proportions of the average 19-year-old woman — she also has accentuated wrists, knees, elbows and feet. This is pretty awesome because unlike her buddy Barbie, who is forever stuck with her arms folded like she’s about to serve a cheese plate, Lammily will be able to “play” sports and other activities.
This is pretty damn cool, I just hope Lammily comes in a variety of races and ethnicities as well.