Whichever one she is I'm already sick of her. Just give it up, photoshopped hybrid person.

Maybe I am just old, but that was beyond annoying. Everything about that was just hard to listen to. From the horrible sampled repeating "Yeah" crap at the start, to her actual singing, I couldn't stand to finish it. Now where is my pension cheque...

That's exactly the kind of a thing a robot trying to not get outed as a robot would say.

I work for a technical support call center and have been told I have a pleasant, well modulated voice. They make us say scripted things, and we HAVE to say them verbatim or we get marked down and get in trouble. Every day, two or three times a day I have people ask me if I'm a real person or if I'm a robot/automated…

Yeah, speech recognition is a processor intensive function. If they want to pay me to fix their system, I'll sign on - I think it would be fun. I'm not afraid of robots. I, for one, welcome our ... LOL - couldn't resist >:]

I for one welcome our robot telemarketing overlords.

This is a perfect example of what "Joey Tribbiani" on Friends called "smell the fart" acting

Seems this gaming granny's desire to enchant the legal system also failed.

If you consider the hard core fans theory that Lana Lang was a meteor mutant with the power to make those around her love her, Clark Kent and Lex Luthor's obsession with her makes sense. And that's the only way it makes sense.

Honestly. Don't know why anyone didn't just explain to him that he could marry the Frey girl and have a piece on the side like literally every other lord in the Seven Kingdoms.

He's a tad passive aggressive, she's physically abusive...

"Hey, let's take one of our few remaining good characters that's still alive & suck the life out of him. I mean really just ruin the shit out of him."

Everybody knew the relationship was bad but them. Now the one is married with seven little Smart Cars and the other is eating burgers off the floor.

Exactly. This is called "lazy engineering."

And that kids, is how I killed your mother.

“Death, but not for you, gunslinger. Never for you. You darkle. You tinct. May I be brutally frank? You go on.”