So, the Game of Thrones season finale has come and gone. And with as much anticipation as the finale brings, it also carries a dull sting to it.
For 10 weeks a year Sunday nights are not simply the closing of a weekend and an evening riddled with horrifying thoughts of what terrors the workweek is going to foist upon you. For 10 weeks a year Sunday nights become something to look forward to and something to embrace. Sure, there is always going to be a certain kind of resigned dread filling many people’s heads on Sunday nights, but for 10 weeks a year we have some cushion for those heads bloated with misery.
Here we are Game of Thrones fans. Episode 9: a.k.a. the episode where the shit traditionally slams into the fan (and in most cases the fan utterly explodes due to the sheer quantity of feces being hurled at it). All revolting metaphors aside, this season’s ninth episode certainly did not disappoint!Continue reading →
I’m choosing to remember the good times. So should you.
JIM: I suppose if you live in a place called Mole’s Town, pretty much the best thing you can hope for is an early death at the hands of cannibals. Ygritte and her pals show up, right after the belching whore took her bow, and slaughter the entire village, save for dimwit Gilly & her little bundle of shame. Jon Snow & the Gloom Brothers brood over the ransacking and ponder their soon to arrive fate, convinced that Mance Rayder will strike any day now. Is the wilding army the absolute slowest moving army in the history of ever? It seems like months since they started advancing towards the wall. Did they get lost? What are they doing back there? I never know what they’re doing.