Feels like a social experiment to see what happens when a city, in one of it's most joyful moments, is forced to host the person it hates more than anything — a person whose presence will cause evening commutes for millions of amped up people to be a disaster. Game 3 is going to be *something*
Walking to my gym in lower Manhattan, I spotted an older man in a hoodie walking towards me and I was like damn, that looks like Santa but he could kick your ass. It was J.K. Simmons.
I've been trying to stay optimistic in thinking we can bounce back as a nation but I am running on fumes