Dear Roy Dotrice and GRRM: Please Die.
Yeah, that’s right, Roy. You heard me. Because despite the fact that you do some absurd voices for people like Tyrion, and the fact that apparently every woman in the entire series speaks or thinks in a desperate and weak tone of voice (one that I would only reserve for, say, Catelyn), I am tired of you constantly putting me on a roller coaster ride of emotions.
How do you do that, you ask, Roy Dotrice? Well, every time you finish a chapter, there is a brief pause on my audiobook. It’s about three or four seconds long, just long enough for me to get my hopes up in that there might be an Arya chapter coming up, or maybe a Tyrion chapter, or what the hell, even a non-sappy Jon Snow chapter. But it seems like you almost always dash my hopes, probably because you are British and cruel.
I am not sure if those two things go together, but they should. Because here is what it is like during my 90-minute commute in the car every day.
***************
LIOTTA drives along, happy as he can be in his stop-and-go traffic, listening to his GRRM audiobook of A Storm of Swords.
Roy Dotrice, British guy: “…and blah blah blah Quorin Halfhand…blah blah blah Jon Snow….blah blah blah Mance touched him gently beneath his woolen doublet…blah blah blah.”
(pause)
Roy Dotrice, British guy: “Catelyn.”
Liotta: “Gahfuck!”
OR
(pause)
Roy Dotrice, British guy: “Bran.”
Liotta: “Aw, come on!”
OR
Roy Dotrice, British guy: “Sansa.”
Liotta: “Ehhh…maybe.”
Honestly, if it weren’t for some sort of copyright infringement, I would stop telling GRRM to put down his bucket of extra-crispy and finish ADWD, and instead I would just tell him to put out The Chronicles of Arya. Because from what I can tell, she meets the most interesting characters throughout the series, she whines the least, and she has the least amount of sappy nostalgia for her family, or wolves, or whatever other emotional baggage everyone else carries around with them. I’m not saying some of that isn’t necessary, but sometimes, it gets to be a bit much. Like fer crissakes Catelyn, you let the fucking Kingslayer go so you could trade him for a couple of little girls? THIS IS WHY NO ONE PUT YOU IN CHARGE. I swear, why Edmure didn’t just hack her head off to make a point I’ll never know. Dad barely knows where he is anyway, he wouldn’t be a problem.
As for George, if you haven’t checked George’s last couple blog posts, it turns out that there are only 30 copies left of the limited-edition, signed copies of AFFC. Because you know, at this point, what we really need is new versions of old books, not any new books.
Oh, and he’s also really upset about Monday Night Footbal.
Go fuck yourself already. Seriously.