A fellow pilot friend of my husband’s was sweet enough to recommend a television show that my husband might like. Since we don’t have cable or anything Ryan found it online.

It’s one of those delightfully fun shows that has a husband looking for his wife and son. Friends who want to do the right thing. Love. Dedication.
Oh, and let us not forget about the Zombies.

The flesh eating, murderous, pale, gory, walking-dead zombies that often pop up out of nowhere and want to eat the main characters who often barely make it. They could all die and the show could be over at any second.

It’s called The Walking Dead. And it’s more than a little disgusting.

My husband likes fright night type stuff.
I don’t. Not. At. All.

And that’s how I got here. Sitting beside him with my awesome phone writing this blog post about how I’m sitting beside him writing this blog post.

So I don’t have to watch.
Because it’s just a little more gross than I care to see.

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