N ASCAR was my first sport, my first love. Before I ever witnessed the gladiators on the football field, or the giants on the hardwood through my television screen, too many cars going circles for hours was my shit on Sunday afternoons. The precision of the drivers demanded by each track, the intensity of a close race in the final laps. I was even a fan of qualifying on Friday afternoons – who was the fastest straight up? But as a youngin, I often noticed there was no one that looked like me in the starting field in most of NASCAR’s leagues. The only driver at the time I had any emotional connection to was Jeff Gordon. We were both born in Vallejo, and he’s had the best paint scheme s in the history of motorsports… and paint schemes. Plus he was winning everything in the late 90’s, so it was easy to jump aboard the bandwagon. But how long would I have to wait for a driver that was any type of minority to root for in NASCAR? NASCAR has long operated in a space that is free
“’What’s this show about?’ ‘It’s about two Jewish girls living in New York City...’” First time I was ever introduced to Broad City, I was sitting on a couch with two people roller coasting funky concoctions of drinks and enjoying copious bong hits. I don’t smoke or drink so it felt mostly like the TV was turned on just to keep me entertained, and I so was. Three episodes in, I found myself screaming “YAS QUEEN!” and wishing so desperately for Abbi Abrams to be promoted to trainer. In a span of just over an hour, I was emotionally invested into the characters, and physically hurting from laughing so hard. How had I been missing this? From the first televised episode to the last, Broad City is hilarious. You can stop reading now, create your Hulu account, watch seasons 1-3 and die happy and fulfilled. But I implore you to keep reading. What quickly becomes clear in the show's dynamic is the cadence and chemistry that has been perfected between its stars Ilana Glazer and