Whoa! Hahhahah. “Whoa!” Well? That was pretty great, right? This is a good show, guys. I feel like SOMEONE has to be the first one to say it. The whole season kind of felt like a middle-ground season to get us to the next season, which I am sure will be more full of exciting surprises, but the trudging middle-ground on this show is still better than the climactic events on pretty much every other show. So, #TyrionFaceSlash has been reduced to some kind of common-born prisoner even though he saved the whole city. Lame. But at least he’s got his indeterminately-foreign prostitute. (They kind of don’t explain what’s going on with Tyrion enough, right? Explain thyself, show!) Speaking of prostitutes, Joffrey had red sex lights installed behind the throne. Very hot stuff. A horse pooped. Sansa is no longer going to marry Joffrey, which may or may not be good news, because Joffrey doesn’t get rid of his toys so easily. Richard Pryor knows what Littlefinger’s talking about! Brienne and Jaime are on the road and there’s bad guys on the road but it’s not too big of a deal as long as you stab them in the penis with your sword. Robb married that Nurse Jackie, which might be SPOILER ALERT problematic later, but congratulations to the two lovers, who are registered at Cask and Barrel (nice). What else? Oh, Arya gets a Chuck E Cheese token but instead of for Skeeball it is for Deathball. WHERE ARE MY DRAGONS? Oh, there are my dragons. Daenerys goes on some spiritwalk through Lost tower and is taken prisoner for, like, zero seconds before she’s just like, ahh fuck it, FIRETIME! Then she locks Mr. Ducksauce in his vault. Goodbye, Mr. Ducksauce! Barbara Streisand. And finally, of course, The Walking Dead. To be honest, that was my least favorite part of the whole finale was the “exciting” Dune-Eyed Winter Zombie Apocalypse Cliffhanger. But that’s OK. It was still great, I don’t care what anybody says.
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