This, essentially, is the diary extract of a societal loner. As Green Day once cried into my confused teenage ears: I am walking the lonely road, the only road that I have ever known. But this is no boulevard and my dreams are certainly not broken. This is all ludicrous and the fact I've witnessed enough content-worthy behaviour about this in the last three weeks frankly worries me more than Brexit and climate change put together.
In fact, climate change might have something to do with this: it's April and winter has come.
Game of Thrones. We are only three episodes into season whatever of Game of who gives a fuck and the world has already descended into chaos. Whoever decided it was a bright idea to put new episodes on at 2am UK time on a Sunday morning has ensured that normal people are subject to a Monday of absolute, overdramatic dragony bollocks.
Game of Thrones. We are only three episodes into season whatever of Game of who gives a fuck and the world has already descended into chaos. Whoever decided it was a bright idea to put new episodes on at 2am UK time on a Sunday morning has ensured that normal people are subject to a Monday of absolute, overdramatic dragony bollocks.
The moment you enter your office/classroom/kitchen there's tension. It's like breakfast in rehab. A whole night has passed without a fix of powdered snow, ice and fire. People are cracking.
Any mention of any word results in a snap reaction of fear. DON'T SAY ANYTHING. WHAT DO YOU KNOW. HE DOESN'T DIE. NO SPOILERS YOU. You were only asking for a pen and you're suddenly being interrogated by a crackhead. Today I sent someone the link to a recap article as a bit of light-hearted Monday fun: word spread, angry mob descended, Steve Harvey public apology required.
Worse still is getting caught in the fire of a fan discussion. There you are, innocently sending out recap articles to unsuspecting victims like the Unabomber in his prime, and you get surrounded by clouds of medieval, fantastical shite.
I'm a guy that appreciates the use of a foreign language, but if anyone can tell me how R'hllor, Xaro Xhoan Daxos and Zafra can be used legitimately in a sentence then you can click elsewhere because this one ain't for you.
Any mention of any word results in a snap reaction of fear. DON'T SAY ANYTHING. WHAT DO YOU KNOW. HE DOESN'T DIE. NO SPOILERS YOU. You were only asking for a pen and you're suddenly being interrogated by a crackhead. Today I sent someone the link to a recap article as a bit of light-hearted Monday fun: word spread, angry mob descended, Steve Harvey public apology required.
Worse still is getting caught in the fire of a fan discussion. There you are, innocently sending out recap articles to unsuspecting victims like the Unabomber in his prime, and you get surrounded by clouds of medieval, fantastical shite.I'm a guy that appreciates the use of a foreign language, but if anyone can tell me how R'hllor, Xaro Xhoan Daxos and Zafra can be used legitimately in a sentence then you can click elsewhere because this one ain't for you.
You try and get away from it with a nice, innocent scroll on social media. Nice football stat, funny video of a monkey on Instagram, Kylie Jenner being, well Kylie Jenner. What a lovely time everyone is having, working through a fun combination of humour, information and bums.
Then a grey mist descends, clouding the joy with memes. And more memes. AnD mOrE mEmEs. Ha! The face you pull when she says she's fine but you know she's not. Ha! When your Mum drives past McDonalds. Ha! What a classic! Except these classics are corrupted, CORRUPTED, by Game of Thrones. The one innocent thing we have in life, the poor little meme, is ruined.
Then a grey mist descends, clouding the joy with memes. And more memes. AnD mOrE mEmEs. Ha! The face you pull when she says she's fine but you know she's not. Ha! When your Mum drives past McDonalds. Ha! What a classic! Except these classics are corrupted, CORRUPTED, by Game of Thrones. The one innocent thing we have in life, the poor little meme, is ruined.
What do we have left?
What I don't understand about Game of Thrones is that these are normal people. Normal, hard-working, often cool, people. One minute they're talking about craft beer shops in Shoreditch, the next they're debating whether or not Tyrion and Daenerys are brothers.
I have no issue with getting into a show - ask me about Michael Schofield or Dwight Shrute and we're here all day - but the extent that Game of Thrones has consumed people's sanity is something to behold. This is TV's Scientology and George R.R. Martin is L. Ron Hubbard-ing all over your face. C'mon. Wipe it away. Regain your dignity.
I have no issue with getting into a show - ask me about Michael Schofield or Dwight Shrute and we're here all day - but the extent that Game of Thrones has consumed people's sanity is something to behold. This is TV's Scientology and George R.R. Martin is L. Ron Hubbard-ing all over your face. C'mon. Wipe it away. Regain your dignity.
But no. Martin has them by the balls and there's nothing we can do about it. One tease of this article was greeted with, and I quote, "oh get a grip".
These people are down the rabbit hole and the harder you try and rescue them, the harder they fall.
Like wizards under Voldemort, Arsenal fans under Wenger, N-Dubz fans under Dappy we're experiencing some professional brainwashing. Jon Snow is on the touchline at the Emirates failing to zip up a 3/4 puffer coat. Tyrion is in a woolly chullo. Arya Stark is whipping out the dark mark. Open your eyes people!
I get it: if I took the 37 years of my life required to catch up on every episode, I might change my tune but, alas, ain't nobody got time for that. Shake that Game of Thrones fan salt all over me like a packet of Walkers' Salt 'n' Shake crisps, I'm here for it.
As we speak I have received the red angry emoji, the modern icon of unadulterated fury, and I'm wondering whether it can be injected directly into my veins.
Now, if this hasn't been enough, I encourage you to head over to Twitter and take a look at some of the tears being shed over the Battle of Hogwarts spoilers shared last night by Game of Thrones actresses Emilia Clarke and Sophie Turner. Shithousery at its finest. Girls, we salute you. Can't believe he died. As you were, JC x
These people are down the rabbit hole and the harder you try and rescue them, the harder they fall.Like wizards under Voldemort, Arsenal fans under Wenger, N-Dubz fans under Dappy we're experiencing some professional brainwashing. Jon Snow is on the touchline at the Emirates failing to zip up a 3/4 puffer coat. Tyrion is in a woolly chullo. Arya Stark is whipping out the dark mark. Open your eyes people!
I get it: if I took the 37 years of my life required to catch up on every episode, I might change my tune but, alas, ain't nobody got time for that. Shake that Game of Thrones fan salt all over me like a packet of Walkers' Salt 'n' Shake crisps, I'm here for it.
As we speak I have received the red angry emoji, the modern icon of unadulterated fury, and I'm wondering whether it can be injected directly into my veins.
Now, if this hasn't been enough, I encourage you to head over to Twitter and take a look at some of the tears being shed over the Battle of Hogwarts spoilers shared last night by Game of Thrones actresses Emilia Clarke and Sophie Turner. Shithousery at its finest. Girls, we salute you. Can't believe he died. As you were, JC x
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