“You got to give the peeeopllllllle/give the peoplllllllle what they wannnnnnnt” – my buddy Jalen, channeling the O’Jays.

I’m not referring to the truth, the truth and no more lies, freedom, justice, and equality, though – in this case, the people have asked me again and again to do the easy, classic Perfect Angel cover, so here I go. You really do got to give the people, give the people what they want.

I chose this cover during the last 72 hours – coincidentally, the same period in which I was reminded that the National Football League does not give a single fuck about women, the violence done to women’s bodies, or the behavior of its employees – unless that behavior involves important shit like getting caught with weed or free tattoos in college.

I’m an NFL superdork with 2 Fantasy teams & a picture of 6-year-old me with Howie Long on my fridge, but I’m also a woman superdork and a person with a conscience, and the NFL is just such a terrible and gross organization that I don’t know how to cope during moments like this. The cognitive dissonance is real, people. Luckily, I’ve found some brief comfort in ice cream, overalls, and the soothing production work of Stevland Morris. And since I’m angry with the cartoonishly evil Roger Goodell but I can’t boycott NFL sponsors I never supported in the first place (Frito-Lay, GM, Anheuser-Busch, Gatorade), I believe the best way to deal with my disgust and sadness is to inform you that the NFL’s contact number is (212) 450-2000. Ask for Mr. Goodell, like I did. They won’t put you through to him, but you’ll at least reach the comment line where you can tell Rog you’re furious. I did, and it makes me feel a little better.

(I’ll probably do this same post all over again when Goodell makes a slap-on-the-wrist ruling about Greg Hardy – remember, the NFL doesn’t give a fuck about women – but until then: ice cream cones and Stevie Wonder!)

Now stop emailing me about this one, guys. xo.