Netflix

This blog is a request from Anthony Rafferty, who requested I blog about Netflix.  When this initial request came in I was like, what the sweet mother of devine Jesus is Netflix.  I had heard something about it on the news on the 9th of January 2012 and paid little attention to it as I was hitting "LIKE" a number of times to a cartoon I found much more interesting at the time.

This to be precise!!

Not being one to write about something I know nothing about, I decided to do a little research.  I could tell you that  Netflix was started in 1997 in California by two guys who were too lazy to get up of their asses to return their rentals and got charged late fees from their video store, this I can relate to as I too hate getting up of my lazy ass to return a dvd and have been known to tut loudly and embarressingly when asked to pay said amount on trying to rent another.

Anyway a few years on and they now doing live streaming for €6.99 a month to watch any number of excellent films and TV shows,on the downside I couldn't find Greys Anatomy but really its not a big deal as I have them on boxset.

I logged on to Netflix and it took me two minutes to register, so long as I had a credit card to use...then it asked me to download silverlight which took me another minute, then it asked me to select various genres and rate selected movies (which I actually enjoyed), another two minutes later it gave me a selection of films and TV shows it recommended for me based on the ratings I gave other movies.


The first movie choice it gave me was a film called Escape From Huang Shi, this film is one of those "true stories"  and stared our own Jonathon Rhys Meyers who plays a Journalist who tries to rescue 60 orphanaged boys in the 1930's during Japans Occupation of China.   I had never even heard of this movie before, so I sat down for the long hall to endure the true Netflix experience.  I expected to endue pauses and sound problems and the usual streaming issues.  

After 152 minutes I have not got one flaw, I thought the movie was brilliant and heartbreaking at the same time.  It is definitely worth a watch and Netflix is definitely worth the €6.99 a month.  


After I decided to Blog about Netflix my good friend Tara informed me she had just download it and watched the Blair Witch Project.  She also said it was shite, her words not mine, and not Netflix, The Blair Witch, she too had an enjoyable (bar the crappy movie choice) Netflix experience.


All in all I would like to say a huge thank you to Anthony Rafferty who asked me to blog about Netflix and has opened up a whole new experience for me.  As some of you might know I am not a fan of downloading movies/music I like it the old fashioned way but boy am I a total cabbage because this is marvellous, it doesn't fill up your hard-drive and you can watch any number of movies over and over again.


I cannot say enough good things about Netflix, it is just too too cool!  Happy Netflixing!

Wet Cold

Due to very unpopular demand I have been asked to write a new blog, I decided against it until a friend of mine asked me to write one.  I left the topic up to her and she asked me to do a post about 'Wet Cold'...  


Now faced with the dilemma about what exactly to write about wet cold I started to think about things that were both Wet and Cold.

I started to think about the word wet....what comes to mind, no sexual innuendos people, this is a family blog...anyway...wet!!! rain, water, a coke, a sprite, ice, bleach, fabreeze, a tongue, urine.....I find that I can't really find that many wet things so I decide to google it, I come up with some business called wet, a video game, and in third place a wiki page listing something about liquid and what not...I was bored with that so I decided to #wet on Twitter.


OMG...you should hash tag it just to see.  Page after page of what my mother would have called filth.  Now I am not a prude, I am far from it, but Twitter is obviously a meeting place for miscreants worldwide.... 


So I decided to move on to 'Cold'....what is cold.....Ice, Ireland, Igloo's, a Freezer, The Artic, bbboooorrrrriiinggg so off to google where there first thing to come up is wiki's answer to cold


"Cold (having less heat) refers to the condition or subjective perception of having low temperature."


then something about the common cold.  So off I went to Twitter and hash tagged COLD...All I got was some posts about snow and winter and some Muppet's going on about a cold heart warm hand bull crap!


About ten minutes into this task I realised how bored I must be to write a blog about the wet cold! but I will continue because I know exactly what she means.  Ireland is Cold and Wet and Wet and Cold and when its not Wet or Cold  it's Damp.  Actually it's Damp most of the time, probably why the potato is our national food. 


When one travels they realise that there are different types of cold.  When for instance you arrive in say Toronto or New York when its snowy, the cold hits you, but it's not damp cold, or wet cold as we Irish have it, it's crisp and sharp. it can cut you in two. When people land in Dublin airport they get off the plane and expect to see green fields and leprechauns running around with pots of gold.


Instead they get hit in the face with sidewards rain which soon turns to floating drizzle and then fat heavy painful rain...by the time they can open their eyes they realise that its not green green grass but dirty grey pavements and wet wet cold.  

www.journal.ie

That said when the rain clears and sun comes out Ireland is one of the most beautiful places on this earth and for those seven days of the year everyone is happy and if wearing green might actually be mistaken for a leprechaun !! 

What A Cow

For those of you who read my blog about me playing the tin man in the Wizard of Oz, this blog has the same location, just not on the stage.

I was very tiny in both primary and secondary school, always one of the smallest.

In primary it didn't take long for others to take advantage of the fact that I was little.  I got bullied a lot, I didn't have that inner city twang that the others had.  When I first started in William Street I got an awful lot of grief, I was thrown in a cement mixer, I had paint in my hair, I was constantly slagged because I didn't sound like 'town'.  Now don't get me wrong, I had friends, I was popular with them, I don't actually remember feeling like I was being bullied.

I do remember hating and fearing a couple of the girls who in my opinion were horrible people but bar those I enjoyed school.  I had lots of extra curricular things to keep me occupied.

My brother (god bless him) on a number of occasions would come running from the nearby boys school to rescue me and find me in all kinds of shite.

Now this incident is not so much my fault, not me being clumsy for once, but some might find it funny.

                                                                 Not Actual Horses

I was in the PE hall of our school doing gym and there were if you can imagine, these little bench things that after watching the demonstration, one had to jump up on and run along, then jump off it and then jump onto one of those horse things by using this little bouncy thing that wasn't a trampoline but a leathery thing that just gave a bit of a bounce, then jump on the horse and jump off it onto a blue mat then jump on to the other
bench, run along it and run back to the beginning of the line to start all over again.

Easy right, No!

I waited my turn in anticipation, I was very competitive for a short kid.  I watched as one of the taller girls pranced along the bench, jumped of, gracefully, then using the bouncy thing flung herself up onto the horse getting a cheer from the others.  She then jumped off the horse onto the mat adding a little jump at the end and onto the last bench where she danced and skipped down the bench to the finish.  Grand I thought, that looks easy.

I run toward the bench, jump up onto it, EASY, run along the bench and jump off, SUPER, then I run at the bouncy thing, throw myself at it hurling myself toward the horse where I totally wind myself as I didn't get enough hight and my chest hit the edge.  OWWHHHHHAA I hear in unison behind me, I fight it off and drag myself up onto the horse.  I'm tiny remember, I didn't realise how high this is, I am standing there debating whether or not to scale down the side of it.  It looks really high from up there.

I hear someone running along the bench, SHITE, I have to jump down, OHHH I stand there himming and hawwing about throwing myself off it.  I look behind and one of the really tall girls is bouncing up onto the horse, there is not enough room for both of us, Balls, I stand and face her deciding to scale down, too late, she bounces up onto the horse, she must have given herself a good bounce cause as she hits the horse she is in the middle of it with one leg out.  She kicks me in the chin and I go flying off the horse backwards missing the mat by about a foot.

                                                                  Not My Actual Neck

I hear all kinds of laughter and I am bawling on the floor.  The other girl stands over me apologising but I start to wonder is she really sorry.  I am hawled off in an ambulance to head off to Temple Street.  Turned out to be for the best cause I was off school for a few days after pulling something in my neck and ended up with a huge collar thing on my neck.  I was only about 9.

Who is to blame here, me for dilly dallying on the horse or the tall girl for kicking me off it....
Either way...makes for a good cabbagy moment!

Don't Get Caught With Your Pants Down

Firstly let me start by apologising for my lack of blog over the Christmas period, I was out of town visiting my only skin and blister and her new baby and couldn't be arsed..actually I'm not really sorry at all but sure I'm back now so I have decided to share a little story.

It starts like this.  I'm about twelve years old maybe eleven.  My mom sends me down to the local shop to get a pint of milk and a sliced pan.

Off I trot in a little dress, I can even remember it, it was white with a red belt and a navy stripped skirt piece that totally showed off my underwear when I spun in a circle.  I loved it.

So there I am skipping happily along until I reach the store.  I push open the heavy glass door and with my £5 note (the euro didn't exist back then) in my hand and enter the store.

I skip in and see the cutest little Yorkshire terrier on a shoe lace like lead who was attached to this middle aged woman I knew from around the corner.

It is so cute that I cant take my eyes off its big sad eyes.  I skip over to the milk and pull a pint from the fridge and then over to the bread to get a sliced pan all the while staring into that cute little puppy dog's eyes.

                                                                          Not Actual Dog
I then skip over the till area where this lil cutie is to pay for my items.  The woman is talking to the aul bitch behind the counter, I say aul bitch because she is one.  She hates kids and treats them like crap.  More so than the average aul bitch of a shopkeeper.

As I plank my items down on the counter I look into the dogs eyes and crouch down to rub his soft looking fur.

As I squat down my floppy little dress must catch some air, kind of like a parachute effect and frighten the dog because he jumps up and bites me on the ass.

The aul bitch behind the counter goes mad shouting at me to get my stuff and get out frightening a little dog like that.  I'm totally traumatised.

I grab my shit with tears in my eyes and limp all the way home.  When I see my mum I totally burst into tears and tell her what happened.  She immediately grabs me, flings me over her lap to have a good look at the bite wound.

My mom starts ranting, I know something bad is happening because she is shouting about "f@&king animals" and "I'll give her frightening a lil dog" and before I know it I am being dragged down the road crying my eyes out towards the shop.

We enter the shop like thunder at which point the aul bitch's face drops to the ground because as soon as we are in my mom hauls me over the counter pulls up my dress and proceeds to show my ass to the entire store.  Now by entire there were only a couple of other people in there but I could see the shock on their faces and feel mine in flames.

The aul bitch goes white as my mom starts threatening her with suing the shop if she doesn't tell her where this woman lives.  The aul bitch gives in, its not surprising that she would give in considering she would rather give her left nipple than part with five cents of her money.  My mom is still not satisfied and screams threats at the aul bitch before dragging me out the door.

Thank God I think as we head out, home, but no, she is dragging me in the direction of the neighbouring avenue and pulling me at speed while ranting to herself about strangling the dog and what she won't do to it when we get there.

When we arrive at our destination my mom starts banging on the door, making a show of me she was.  The woman answers the door clearly terrified  by my moms screaming from outside.

Immediately my mother again exposes my ass to the entire street, some of whom have actually come out to have a look at the raving lunatic ranting on about her daughters ass.  I quite literally want to die right there as a girl I dont particularly like passes by sniggering.

The woman starts to cry apologising, my mom is crying about my ass, the woman starts going on about being alone and the dog is like her child.  My mom is bawling now.  I am crying with the embarrassment.  The woman tells mom she will pay for my tetanus and any medical treatment.

Mom calms down.  I am dragged back to the house, mom is deflated.  She takes me for a tetnis.  She doesn't ask the woman for the cost of it! I get a bollocking for trying to pet every animal I lay my eyes on.  Moral of the story.. Don't wear a skirt that catches the wind.