![I Believe... [Too Much {Clap, Clap} Time On Your Hands...]](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/579fa3912994ca0eff850271/1568139801077-SCWZFMLZSOILNCUB0NXY/chimpballs.jpg)
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.
There was no thunder, no glowing doorway, no mysterious wind blowing through the apartment, and no choir of angels politely alerting me that physics had submitted its resignation.
The deck simply felt heavier.