Howcome nobody ever thinks to take bicycles? Pack those suckers and roll with them. You KNOW you are going to run out of gas eventually, so how about a plan B? There are other ways to get around besides cars and feet.

Are Larry and Ms. Bunting in a competition for the coveted "rudest dinner guest ever (yeah, man, like fucking EVER)" prize?

Zombienado. I'm just gonna leave this right here…

I found Mrs. Drew allowing Marigold to go with Frowny Face Edith horribly unrealistic. Mrs. Drew raised that baby as her own. There's no way in hell she's going to give in to Edith the Grouch just because she's got a birth certificate or whatever. Make her prove that crap in court. Marigold is Mrs. Drew's daughter.…

"They killed T-Dog."
"You bastards!!"

How does the town have any cops left? Doogie takes Marjorie to the police station where there are (somehow) still enough cops to sit around and man the desks. Did those cops totally forget that there were, ya know, more cops just a few days before? And that those cops went to get Jimmy and didn't come back. Whaaaa?

So, I guess the whole Dawn-and-Beth-angry-lezzy-shower-scene I've written will have to happen via flashback now?

And not found Old Greg? What kind of bozo fishing rodeo are they running?

Not all Bobs are the same. Did she learn nothing from the T-Dog debacle?

First! Sasha, you suck.

Yes, that MyFitnessPal app is a fucking cruel mistress.

You're outta your depth, Donnie!!

That's just like, your opinion, man.

Daryl: "Come on out."
(Noah hobbles into view)
Michonne: "T-Dog, you're alive! You've lost some weight, growing your hair out natural, looking good!"

Physics ain't no thang — magical kidapper van fall.

Sadly, I am not. But we clearly have the same great taste in avatars.

How did the zombie goo get on the roof of the fire truck such that the intake was clogged? I mean, just, how? Were the zombies parachuting in?

So, you wreck your short bus and it bursts into flames. You know your friends intend to follow and catch up with you. You know they will happen upon the destroyed short bus, but you DON'T LEAVE A NOTE?!?! (Preferably scrawled in blood, for effect)

Yeah, I know. But still.
I regret nothing.

Wait, you mean to tell me that after all we've done, all we've been through, all the people we've lost, that you are only capable of driving the bus 15 DAMN MILES BEFORE CRASHING??