I just finished watching season 2 of "Walking Dead." No, it's not about me.
It's the quintessential zombie TV series.
One of my nieces turned me on to it. She gave me season 1 on DVD, and I watched most of it with my sister on my summer visit to New Mexico.
I have since installed a Blu-Ray player with WiFi in my living room, and can now download all manner of TV shows and movies directly from Netflix. It's a slacker's dream come true. I don't even have to go to Red Box and pick the things up.
So over the course of the past week, I downloaded and watched the 13 episodes of season 2.
As you might expect, there is a fair amount of gore in each episode; it is a series about zombies after all. However, it's quite entertaining with decent production value for a low-budget AMC-original show.
I'm hooked.
Here's the background:
A police officer is shot and slips into a coma; when he awakes in his hospital bed, the world as he knew it is gone. Almost everyone is dead and those who aren't, are, you got it, the walking dead. No one knows how this happened, but if one of the zombies bites you, you become one too.
Our hero eventually finds his wife and son, who are traveling with a small group of survivors in Georgia. He becomes their leader and the adventure is on.
In case you ever come face to face with a zombie, the only way to put it down permanently is by destroying its brain with a bullet, shotgun blast or just by hacking it pieces with a knife, cleaver or some blunt object.
Now it's just a matter of waiting another eight months until season 3 finds its way to Netflix.
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