Like a lot of white nerds, I’ve become obsessed with HBO’s Game of Thrones. I’m not surprised that I fit into the demographic for the tv show; When I was 12-years old I spent an entire summer refusing to wear shoes because I wanted “to grow hobbit feet”. So, quite naturally, I’ve become enthralled with the world of swords, dragons, and kingdoms that author George R.R Martin has built. Oh, and did I mention that the show has a lot of handsome men? Because the show has a lot of handsome men.

I have total lady boners for one man in particular: everyone’s favourite King in the North Robb Stark. I just want to be his Queen in the North! (This works because I am Canadian. And everyone knows Canada is above the Wall.)

I would do seriously sick things to get close to this hunk of man meat. There’s just something about a man in a wolf pelt that gets my motor running. Combine that with a full suit of armor? Woah nelly, back up.

The only problem with dating someone who lives in a fantasy world that existed in the middle ages is that there’s a bit of a cultural shock. For example, Robb Stark is a romantic at heart. He’s the kind of guy that would plan an outdoorsy date. He would gut an animal for you and then cook the animal’s carcass over an open flame and then serve it to you with his castle’s best mead. But then you’d be like “Hey, this is cool and all, but where’s the nearest McDonalds? I wanna get my Mac on.” And entertainment-wise, how did people ever live without Sunday night TV? You’d be chilling with Robb Stark in the throne room, and the clock would hit 10pm and you would yell out “It’s Draper time, bitch!” and he would be like, “Draper? Time?” And then your jaw would drop and you’d say something stupid like “Seriously? Not even HBO?” Then you’d sit in silence on your matching thrones and watch fools in stupid hats dance around the room and play the lute for you. Snooze-fest.

Winter is coming. And so am I.

I think I would be able to give up the modern world for Robb Stark, though. There are no Kardashians in Westeros. Which, already, seems like the perfect trade-off. There are no vegans, because, just like in our world, anyone that doesn’t eat meat is an icky weirdo. There was no twitter so people had all the time in the world to actually do stuff (a crazy concept, I know.) As hard as it would be to live in a world where YOLO isn’t a popular saying and I can’t listen to Call Me, Maybe on repeat, all day long, I would give it all up for the dreamboat in the suit of armor. I mean, wouldn’t you?

A list of things I want to do with Robb Stark (the non-sexual list. Email me for the sex stuff.)

- I want to commission a painting of Robb Stark standing naked on a battlefield hoisting the head of a dead Joffrey Baratheon in the air.

- I want to tattoo Robb Stark’s face on my lower back. And have a Chinese letter that I think means everlasting love but really means something else.

- I want to doodle “Mrs. Robb Stark” all over my fourth-period math notebook.

- I want to giggle, “no, you hang up” repeatedly late into the night. Then we both pretend to hang up, but neither one of us hangs up. Then finally my stepdad bursts into the room and screams about the cost of long-distance and then I scream, “YOU’RE NOT MY REAL DAD” and then I get grounded.

- I want to photoshop our faces onto the Titanic movie poster and then get it printed on matching t-shirts that we will wear everywhere.

- I want to update my Facebook status with statuses like, “Brunch with the boy <3″ and “Just napping with robb <3″ and “love being in love” so people know that I am in a relationship with someone I pretend to like over the internet.

- I want to be married to Robb Stark for 15 years and then go out to dinner with him and sit in silence at the table because we exhausted all of our conversation topics in the first seven years of our marriage.

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