Truth be told, the season premiere last week was not on my radar at all, even though Rick’s face was on my NYCC badge all last weekend. Once Upon A Time finished, John turned the Steevee to AMC and I opened of Fergus Macbook to shop for a dress upon which to build my Mothra costume (the “Sexy” is silent, like the “k” in “knife).
Dear Walking Dead: You spent an hour killing off a character you’d already assassinated sometime in season two.
The Walking Dead-verse is like libertarian Disneyland. Ron Paul just creamed his pants.
Rick Grimes is a racist buttbrain, everyone is Woodbury is an idiot, and I’m so bored that stop paying attention and start thinking about The West Wing.
I’ve felt the same way about bunnies ever since reading Bunnicula in elementary school. Bunnicula only drained vegetables (um, spoiler?), but the book clued me in to the inherent creepiness of bunnies.
I want Michonne to be my best friend and have a sleepover where she teaches me some sword skills. I’ll repay her by foraging for herbs with which to season the dried pasta, rice, and other assorted grains I’ll prepare for our dinner. I just need to learn how to start a fire without a match or lighter, and I’ll be set.
I think “Ass Kicker” is a perfectly acceptable name for a baby. Certainly better than Judith. No offense to any Judiths who may be reading. You can’t deny that you’d rather be called Ass Kicker, though.
GOD DAMN IT. The Governor’s butt is in my head, now. Governor/Andrea sexytime is in my head, now. THANKS, SHOW.
I was DYING to try! I grew UP on zombie flicks! Dawn of the Dead and 28 Days Later still gives me nightmares! I HAD to see if I could survive a zombie apocalypse.