Friday, 22 March 2013

Game Of Thrones: A Belated Review

So, I've started watching Game Of Thrones. I'd heard from several sources that it's good and worth a watch..also that everyone on the planet has watched it and I'm the only one left to catch up.

That being said, I did do a bit of heel digging before I parked my bum on the sofa and finally gave it a go. Reason being that all reviews I had were from people who enjoy the female form in a different way to the way I do(I.e "yeah, it's really good! The women are so fit and there's loads of sex!! Oh the sex!!" Etc...kind of. It's not a direct quote...but feel free to use "oh, the sex!" In future if you so choose). All I knew about it was that I was about to subject myself to many hours of bare boobage. I knew nothing of the plot line or characters. For all I knew, it was about a bunch of kings and queens gaily flashing their genitalia at each other whilst a court jester danced around spanking their bare bottoms with a lute.

Or if I only had the title to go by, the world's first game of musical chairs.

I'm three episodes deep now. I'm in love with a ballsy, sword wielding child and have sworn that if I ever consider reproduction, I'm either having one of her or none at all. I've been introduced to a surprisingly eloquent prozzy boinking imp and yeah, rather a lot of boobs.

But, see, even the boobs are good! The boobs I'm being subject to are not the balloonish bubbles hanging off of painfully arched frames like the ones I'm accustomed to seeing in music videos and other forms of popular culture. The boobs of Game of Thrones are as human and unique to each girl as a fingerprint or a face. Boobs that aren't identikit floatation devices hoiked and strapped into place solely for men to look at. Boobs that make me look at them and go "yes! Mine don't stay put when I lie down either! I'm normal! NORMAL!!!"

I have nothing against surgically altered lady bubbles, as long as they are only bought for the woman wearing them's benefit. And that's another topic for another day. All I'm saying is that I'll continue to watch the band of grumpy faces and furry coats (and gawwwjuss dire wolves! I know they're meant to be badass, but aww, lookit the puppiiiiiieees!) to my heart's content, and it won't be in spite of the "look, boobies!!" factor. In fact, I will be mentally high fiving my shirtless sisters whenever I make eye contact with their many splendoured and varied nipples.


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