Zombies Versus The Dominant

This post is about as pointless as the post from yesterday but piggy backs on it. It will drive home the fact that I have no life and live vicariously through the immense amount of television I watch. No seriously, I don’t know if the amount of tv I watch is out of control but I feel like I’m cheating on The Walking Dead tonight.

I say cheating because it starts back up today however I am not going to be able to watch it live as I have a date with Christian Grey. After about 500 instant messages, not being able to settle on a time for 4 of us to go see 50 Shades Darker, I posted the following on Facebook:

Who wants to go see 50 Shades Darker with me?

I had several people respond “me!” But finally my soccer mom friend (part of the 3 I mentioned above) text me about seeing it so we are cheating on the other 2 and seeing it tonight. Don’t judge, it’s Jamie Dor-whatever his name is.

Now that I have discovered the amazingness (I fully recognize this probably is not a word but I like it and I’m using it) of dream loungers at the movies, I am fully prepared to pay an extra $7 for the luxury of reserving my spot, an overly cushioned seat and most importantly, a recliner. Given the subject matter of the movie, the only thing the chairs are missing is a vibrating function but I get it- baby steps for the film industry. I do thank my lucky stars we didn’t choose the 10 o’clock movie last night as I probably would have been snoring, mouth open and drooling by the time the lights went up because the chairs are so damn comfortable!

So, not going to lie. I feel guilty and terrible because I won’t be watching Walking Dead live tonight, instead having to DVR it and watch about an hour behind. I know, #FirstWorldProblems. I am a HUGE Walking Dead fan yet I feel like I can’t say that since I scheduled this move for 7:15 but damn it, hot sex scenes are calling even if the chemistry between the actors are on par with Hillary and Donald.

So I need to cut this post short now. My youngest is getting stuff out to make blueberry muffins in which he will look at me as if I said he has to take a nap, when I tell him the batter is for baking, not for licking. How we haven’t gotten salmonella yet is beyond me.


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