A Storm of Swords–George R.R. Martin

Spoilers ahead for books and tv show

I’m re-reading the Song of Ice and Fire series because I’m a masochist. Oh rather, I didn’t read past the third book because the person I was rooting for to die does so in this one and I was satisfied enough with that that I stopped reading all the books so that no more of my favourite characters would bite the dust.

I was really, really, disturbingly happy, when Joffrey died. I usually don’t shriek with glee at someones death, but ohhhhh this sucker had it coming. Am I right?! I loved every delicious second of his choking to death.

Which is ironic since Jack Gleeson is such a sweetheart in every interview I’ve seen him in. I adore him. So when it happened on the t.v. show and the world erupted with joy I know that a ton of us were actually upset to see him go because Jack was losing his job that he played so SO well at.

I actually kind of miss Joffrey and his sadistic antics. I was really hoping that Sansa would get one good punch in, or that she had enough Catelyn Stark in her to seek revenge and kick some serious ass. But no. Sweet Sansa wasn’t the one to plot the death although she technically was the one to wield the weapon.

These books are great, huge, but great. I do like being in this world so I appreciate how large and in charge they are, but right now I really just want to be finished this series so that I can plow through a hundred books.

Long live the king.

jack bitchslap_joffrey

 

 

 

Keep Moving Forward

Dear Scale:

Let’s try this break up again, shall we? This time around has been sort of lovely actually, instead of crying on you about how fat and hideous I am I just laugh at the weight gain because I know it’s muscle. I know that I’m not getting fatter. I can see the changes in the lines of my arms, the muscles on my legs, and the lovely lovely lift of my ass.

But here’s the thing: you are still an obsession. You are still a bad boyfriend. When I stand on you I still get a little discouraged because part of me wants to be that waif of a girl with no boobs that a man can pick up like she weighs nothing instead of the She-Hulk I am turning into that can lift a 25 pound baby like he’s nothing. (That’s handy though since he’s a snuggle butt and loves it.)

As I work out more and actually push myself I think about a lot of things, not one of them has to do with you. The reasons I’m working on my body have nothing to do with losing weight or being able to stand on a scale and think ‘Finally, I’m 135 pounds. Right where I should be. Skeletor central.” (Because that’s what I look like anything below the 145 region. And I know it, and that’s creepy to me. Bite me BMI, you don’t know my body.)

The images that come to mind are more of the kicking down doors with a single kick, and lifting a couch, or having a guy lift me against a wall like Ryan Gosling does to Rachel McAdams in The Notebook. (For the record I’d like to state that Kristofer Hivju [Tormund Giantsbane in GoT] is my current dreamboat warrior man that I imagine is picking me up. That guy is intensely attractive on all scales.) Good images of having a body that is a force to be reckoned with, not one that is ballerina tiny. Papa isn’t built to be a teeny tiny. Just not.

So why do I stand on you sometimes every single day? Probably because one day I’m hoping you’ll say:

You are kind. You are smart. You are important. Your weight doesn’t matter. You are strength. You are fire.

I’m going to take that fire and hold onto my measuring tape, once again, and quit you like others need to quit smoking.

Once again, bon débarras vous vieux bâtard.

Keep moving forward. Preferably to a place where you can climb hot gingers like a tree.

 

 

To Say a Little Word…

Here’s Sansa and the Hound:

“True knights protect the weak.”

He snorted. “There are no true knights, no more than there are gods. If you can’t protect yourself, die and get out of the way of those who can. Sharp steel and strong arms rule this world, don’t ever believe any different.”

Sansa backed away from him. “You’re awful.”

“I’m honest. It’s the world that’s awful. Now fly away, little bird, I’m sick of you peeping at me.”

–Sansa Stark, Sandor “The Hound” Clegane, A Clash of Kings.

To Say a Little Word…

Here’s Tyrion and Bronn…again…:

Bronn was waiting outside the council chambers to escort him back to the Tower of the Hand. “The smiths are in your audience chamber, waiting your pleasure,” he said as they crossed the ward.

“Waiting my pleasure. I like the ring of that, Bronn. You almost sound a proper courtier. Next you’ll be kneeling.”

“Fuck you, dwarf.”

“That’s Shae’s task.” Tyrion heard Lady Tanda calling to him merrily from the top of the serpentine steps. Pretending not to notice her, he waddled a bit faster.

–T and B, A Clash of Kings. I love these two, they never fail to make me laugh with their bluntness. (The irony is not lost on me that I keep using Tyrion for quotes in my To Say a Little Word.)

Happy Friday!

Laser Beam Leg

Yesterday I had the pleasure of having my first laser removal treatment for my tattoo. Being a fickle S.O.B. I’ve decided to remove some of it in order to add onto it.

Here’s the thing, people warn you that it hurts. Like reeeaaaally hurts. Hurts more than when you got the tattoo. What they don’t tell you is that it hurts like being hit by the fires of Mount Doom. I seriously had to hold my legs down because they were trying to escape of their own volition and/or trying to kick the poor girl who was laser beaming me.

Then on the third spot of her doing this (right between the eye. seriously.) I pulled back in order to clock her. Involuntarily of course. It was pure self preservation! She was hurting me, I would hurt her. Although punching is not nearly as painful as a laser. Obviously. (I hope you read that in Snape’s voice because that’s how I intended it. In fact, read everything from now on as though Alan Rickman is talking to you.)

This was all in a five minute span. Just so you are aware.

SO, I’m making a list of things that I think would be pretty on par with what I think it feels like, just in case you are ever thinking about it:

1)Being Viserys in Game of Thrones when Khal Drogo dumps the molten hot gold on his head. And thus killing him.

2)Becoming a vampire. Looks pretty painful.

3)Turning into a werewolf. I mean, your bones are shifting. Come on.

4) Frodo being poisoned by Shelob.

5)Being burnt with a thousand cigars in a concentrated area. And the cigars are covered in gasoline. And lava.

6)Being hit by Cyclops laser eyes. (Obvious)

7) Quirrel dying in Harry Potter.

8)Being under the Crucio spell. (Which ironically I was wearing my Crucio ring at the time!)

9)When Hermione is being cut into by Bellatrix.

10)How your heart feels when Fred dies.

Okay, I’m going to stop because this made me sad about Harry Potter out of nowhere.

Can’t wait for the next few sessions in a couple of months! (Not.)

Constant vigilance! (11 When Barty Crouch Jr is coming out of the Polyjuice potion haha Couldn’t resist.)

 

Neglectful Ass

Holy crap, the last book I reviewed was Safe Haven?! That was months ago! I’m the absolute worst.

But now I’m back. From outer space. Dooooweeeeoooooo!

I think I was hit on the head earlier…or watched Pride and Prejudice too many times. And probably shouldn’t have eaten cotton candy. *Somersaults away*

I need to pull it together. SO. Site news: Vacation over. I’m back. I’m cracked. And I have plans for some newer posts featuring some family members. That’s right! My brother (who is in the process of moving and has said he’ll write when he feels like it) wants to review some books since I’m mostly a light fiction reader during the summer. Remember when I read Anna Karenina and no one was having fun?!?! KEEP THAT IN MIND WHEN YOU’RE READING ANOTHER POST ON JUDE DEVERAUX.

I don’t know why I’m yelling. It’s not like this is a Howler. … … I wonder if I could make this into a Howler…

Anywho. Kittycat (which is what I call my brother due to his ginger beard and Sully-like qualities [Monsters Inc] and my Boo-like qualities) is more than likely going to be reviewing some darker magic and sarcastic as fuck books. And my little sister, who I call Stroke-Face due to her unfortunate crying face, is also considering. It’ll be interesting to compare posts between the three of us reading the same books. (Ie. Game of Thrones)

Why am I telling you this? Well, at this point I’m pretty sure I’m just babbling for babblings sake.

Things are back to normal this week, so expect the regular posts from reviews, to quotes, to Artie and Dexter meeting David Duchovny. (Spoiler: Neither were impressed with him.)

Constant vigilance, see you tomorrow!