Media

The Walking Dead already has been given the House of Cards treatment, so it's inevitable that a total mood-swing parody would follow. Matin Comedy envisions TWD as a Full House-esque 1980s sitcom.

For those of us who still first think of Andrew Lincoln as the hopelessly smitten gallery guy in Love Actually (and I know I'm not the only one) the thought of Rick as a lovable comedy lead makes total sense. My main kvetch with this perky send up is the excessive screen time allocated to Lori. Really?

“Child, what are you up to?” Instantly recognizing the voice behind me, I froze midway into shoving the crumpled dollar bill into the brown interoffice memo envelope. It was the morning of October 3, 1995. In Los Angeles, the verdict was about to be read in the O.J. Simpson trial. And on the eighth floor of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution’s Features Department, I was collecting up the office pool. As the department’s unofficial class clown/kid brother and a writer for the paper’s Peach Buzz column (the copy desk lovingly referred to me as Buzz Boy), this was in my job description. The voice behind me belonged to Celestine Sibley, a newspapering icon and state treasure. Red-faced, I explained to “ma’am” what in the hell I was doing (I never, ever called her Celestine. I had grown up reading her, after all). She toddled off and I assumed she was on her way upstairs to demand that the publisher fire me and then tie me to printing presses in the basement and use my blood to pump out the afternoon’s Extra edition. A minute later, Celestine handed me a dollar and said, “Put me down for a guilty.”

Marietta Antique Mall consigner Bob Ramaley estimates that he blew “maybe a grand” for the entire contents of an abandoned public storage unit on Canton Road back in 2012. The boxed up junk then enjoyed a two-year residency in Ramaley’s garage until last week when he unearthed the trinkets while setting up his booth at the burgeoning business on Roswell Road.