I’ve been binge-watching Game of Thrones, and it’s making me into a horrible human being. After a long period of not having HBO, I do now and am trying to catch up with the series before the premier of season 6 in April. So that is why I find myself immersed in the world of Westeros and Essos, where the conniving rule, the blood-thirsty lead, and the whores smile when you wink and toss a coin in their general direction.
As vastly entertaining as George R.R. Martin’s epic saga is, perhaps it is not the healthiest practice to spend hours inhabiting it, as it may have certain, shall we say, undesired consequences.
I find myself rather preoccupied with what Lord Steve of the House of Feingold is plotting. He’s my neighbor in case you’re wondering. Should he try to expand the reaches of his realm by taking the lands west of my driveway, nothing would stop him from marching his forces across the cul du sac and seizing the only road in or out.
Of course, with Lord Steve out of the picture, the heir to his title would be the “Mad Toddler” Cooper. A loose cannon if there ever was one. Why, the fool would burn the entire neighborhood if he could be king of the ashes! Perhaps diplomacy has its place from time to time.
Another recent development has been my inclination to swing a broadsword at the neck of the insolent cashier at Tedeschi’s. I won’t stand for disrespect from a low-born peasant. I am a land owner! Aye, truth be told, I’ve never swung a sword at anybody, but now it seems like a viable option on a day to day basis. Kinda concerning?
But no time for that now. My lawn needs tending to, so I shall send a raven to The Home Depot inquiring the price of grass seed. After all, spring is coming…