7 Things the Walking Dead Has Ruined Forever
Bicycle Girl laments the many things that The Walking Dead has ruined for her forever and ever (and ever).
FACT: This meme is accurate.
The Walking Dead being gone until February sucks a little joy out of the holiday season. But that’s not the only thing that the show has ruined! Here are some other things that just aren’t the same after TWD.
At least the bats. And if you guys don’t read the comics and don’t know what I’m talking about–you will. Oh, you will.
I’m still okay at the zoo, but I’m not staying in anybody’s house if they have a wall of aquariums and an easy chair facing them. If they have an eyepatch on, I’m calling the police and making sure I can reach the pliers (unlike Andrea)! Call me ichthyophobic if you will!
Revolving doors are sort of ridiculous to begin with. I get that they’re meant to keep people moving freely in and out of buildings and control indoor temperatures. Yeah, yeah. I don’t need the revolving door manufacturer’s association sending me messages–I just don’t think I’ve ever seen a place where there were more than 2 people using a revolving door at one time.
Oh yes, that’s right. I have seen that–Noah, Glenn, Nicholas and like a million walkers. I’ll pass on your turning door of death and go out the side.
- The Word “Claimed”
It doesn’t matter if it’s being said by a 90-year-old woman in support hose, when I hear the word “claimed” now, I go into fight or flight mode. Does someone want my rabbit? Have they been following me on the railroad tracks? Will I have to bite someone’s neck? It’s a terrifying experience.
After all of those weeks of worrying about Glenn, dumpsters aren’t just smelly places where rats live now. Oh no. Now, they make me twitch. And hearing that Steven Yeun had to spend 8 hours under one, I bet they make him twitch, too.
Oh, you gave me long-stemmed roses for Valentine’s Day, did you? I’m not turning my back and looking at them while you stand behind me. Forget it. There’s nothing romantic about flowers now. Get the fuck out of here with those symbols of Carol’s willingness to kill and of poor dead kids.
Maybe it’s just me, but I start giving the side eye to anybody smiling at me in front of a huge ass grill eagerly offering me a plate. I don’t know who that meat was before and I don’t care that it tastes like chicken.
And don’t get me started about those turkey legs you get at theme parks. All I see now are hundreds of Gareths with mouthfuls of Bob.
Who knows…it might help us get through the mid-season hiatus. Or not.