I Believe... [Too Much {Clap, Clap} Time On Your Hands...]
…that if the hill you die on is whether or not there is a female 007, that a Popeye’s chicken sandwich is less homophobic, or how many black people were in Game of Thrones, I’d suggest you have far too much time on your hands.
He was tired of carrying her weight. Her financial choices and responsibilities. Her alcoholism. And he knew she was tired of his drug abuse and laziness and porn addiction. And Train played. And the guy kept talking. “Thing is, man… if it weren’t for divorce, I’d have student loans.”