George R.R. Martin is a fan of New York football, which is unfortunate, because that also means he's a Jets guy. It's not like he had a choice though: He was born in New Jersey and, by geographic birthright, the team was forced down his beard.
Martin, who's currently traveling around the East Coast, returned to his birth state on Wednesday to take in a most unholy sight: New York Jets training camp.
Look at this dear, dear 66-year-old man pose in defiance while strapped up in skull and crossbones suspenders. Like he's some sort of fictional grim reaper or something.
Jets GM (and fellow New Jersey native) Mike Maccagnan has done nothing in his life to deserve this honor.
His signature looks like Bart Simpson's scalp. No worse than George R.R. Martin though, who writes like a child:
On Monday, Martin was in New York City sporting a Jets cap and all black everything. This is, undoubtedly, a disappointing sight for fans of A Song of Ice and Fire.
Instead of finishing up The Winds of Winter so HBO can turn it into something digestible for millions of people every Sunday, this guy is out here rooting on the Jets in the streets, at training camp and in life.
His Jets fandom, however, has been a major point of contention in his life, as evidenced by his November 2014 blog post morbidly titled "Jets Crash Again." His piece, which had an "annoyed" mood status attached to it, has a lede that's been restated in loads of different ways on "Game of Thrones." Just replace "Jets" with "Lannisters."
Life is meaningless and full of pain. Watching the Jets week after week has become an exercise is (sic) masochism.
Suddenly, the outrageous character deaths in his books make sense.
Once a Jet, always a Jet. And, oh, the Lannisters always pay their debts. That's George R.R. Martin's Wednesday, everybody.
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