Last weekend, I watched nine episodes of “House of Cards” in a row, getting up only to pee during episodes three, five, and six. I would have kept going, too, but unfortunately my eyes began doing that rapid-fire twitch thing that happens after you’ve been staring at a screen for too long, and my friends told me I was starting to talk in an exaggerated Southern accent like the show’s main character, Francis Underwood. “Claire, I DO hope you can be a dear and get me another beer! And now excuse me while I resign to my window for a cigarette.” Personality change disorder, it seems, is as good a reason as any to put down a show.
Categories: {categories}Life
Tags: house of cards, netflix, post-sad, television
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