It must be a curse that I cannot have the Khaleesi.
Have you ever seen that woman? Seen her riding a horse? Seen her in all her blonde beauty (although off the screen she is supposedly a natural brunette. But who cares?)
The Khaleesi is one of those exotic women that only a dream can try and match – and fail miserably. She is a woman who is made out of fire – so the theme goes. But is fire alone enough? Is flame, on its own, a justifier of an existence of such heat? I do not believe that even the sun can compare.
The Khaleesi is a phenomenon of pure oxidation.
Game of thrones has introduced the world to true beauty. Oh, Spartacus tried. Spartacus laid a nice foundation, but have you ever beheld the Game of Thrones? It sets fire to the heart. Never in my life was a young man more intrigued by a display of flesh, on TV, as in the game of thrones. The Game of thrones makes one treasure existence – youth – life – now. You hold your breath from start to finish, and when at last the curtain closes on an episode, you exhale…and appreciate beauty.
The men. The women.