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Movie Monday – In a World

Posted by Wombat Central on August 31, 2015 in Entertainment, Movies, The Boob Tube |
facebook quiz tshirt

t-shirt from Zazzle

You’ve seen those quizzes on Facebook, right? The ones I never take? Well, somebody posted one about romantic movies, and I took it. You find out how many you’ve seen out of the bunch they listed (20? 40? Don’t remember. Don’t care.). It reminded me just how long it’s been since I’ve enjoyed a viewing of 10 Things I Hate About You, so I watched that straight away.

A few of my other faves were also on that list, including Pride & Prejudice and Amelie. I find that reading about your favorite movies makes you want to watch them, much in the same way seeing someone yawn fills you with the urge to follow suit.

Did reading about yawning make you yawn?

How about now?

Yawn.

Now?

[Sidebar:  Sometimes the mere mention of the word yawn is all it takes for me. It was all it took for my friend, Kim, in high school. I would sit across the room from her holding up a sign that said “Yawn” just to elicit a yawn from her (and giggles from me). Worked every time.]

[Sidebar to my sidebar:  How odd would it be if we all sneezed by suggestion?]

I had just finished watching P&P the night before I saw the list, so that one didn’t require a viewing. Every so often, I just need a Mr. Darcy fix. I’d also watched Amelie a few months back, so I was set there.

Another title on the list was one I remember seeing in trailer form, but never the actual movie: In a World. I thought it pretty fortuitous that it’s running on Netflix at the moment, so off I went to voiceover land.

Having worked in radio for a decade, I’ve done voiceover work, and heard some of the big guns do their thing for stations for what I’m sure was no small change. So the topic intrigued me, and the promise of romance was just enough to tip the scales and watch it.

Oy.

There were some good names in the cast, and a few cute “crush” moments, but overall, it was extremely two dimensional. It was like when you’re looking at what someone else is drinking and then you take a sip of your drink and you totally don’t get the flavor you were expecting, because you thought you were going to taste what you were seeing in their glass. I don’t feel like any character was well-developed enough for me to care much about them.

It was one of those movies where it was over and left you feeling like the reel must have snapped in the projecter and it was just spinning around: tick, tick, tick. There was just nothing to wrap your feelers around. Even the tender moments felt forced and out of place.

Just, no.

I won’t even post the trailer. My favorite part of the whole flick was being able to enjoy the talent of Michaela Watkins again, since someone at ABC was misguided enough to cancel Trophy Wife.

So my recommendation is to click here and read the two-second summary of what Trophy Wife is all about, then watch this video (just under 22 mins) of my favorite episode of the whole (single! *sniff*) season:

 

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Oh, Um… Don’t Mind Me… I’ll See Myself Out.

Posted by Wombat Central on August 6, 2015 in Computers, Scary Crap |

I just fell into a rabbit hole that I found myself scampering to leave in a hurry. Fred Flinstone style.

fred flinstone car

So Mister Man’s gnoshing on dessert at the kitchen table while searching online for combat boots. He’s decided that’s his style, and we’re trying to find an affordable pair.

“How about these, mom?” He holds up his tablet so I can look over as I gather newspaper for the recycle bin from the other end of the table. “They look great!”

“Yeah,” he continues, “and they’re only $29.”

“Huh. Must be because they’re leather and mesh. Good find!”

He then points to the name of the online store and furrows his brow, “Does this mean what I think it does?”

“Yep. Probably means they’re used,” I answer.

[Sidebar: My kids have an aversion to used things when they don’t know the previous owner of the article. The funny part is, most of what they wore when they were younger were hand-me-downs and some great finds from the second hand store.]

Then I suggested he get the brand name so we could find them somewhere else (and preferably somewhere he can try them on!).

I made my way to the computer to punch in the name of the boots, and the same online store kept appearing listing after listing. So I gave in and checked out the pair he’d found at what sounded like a used clothing place. I clicked on the boots and saw this information come up in the description:

General maturity level: Apparel » Men’s » Men’s Footwear » Men’s Boots

Alrighty. Didn’t know you needed a maturity level for a shoe purchase. Let’s see. What’s this to the right of the photo?

Unpacking Required

This item requires you to find a place in Second Life (like a Sandbox) to unpack and use it.

 

Okay, this is just effed up. Why would I want to open up a new pair of boots in a sandbox?! What kind of fresh hell is this, anyway?

I then decide I should check out the the About page to see what the shizazzle this place is:

 

What is Second Life?

Second Life is a 3D world where everyone you see is a real person and every place you visit is built by people just like you.

*facepalm*

People are buying fake boots to put on their fake online self to do things I don’t want to know about.

Of course, I had to check out a few other categories to see what it was all about. Holy crap, there’s a Duran Duran universe! And pet destinations with kitties everywhere. Sweet Jeebus there are probably furries there.

I’m a little skeered now.

Hold me.

Wombat out.

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I’d Like That Yesterday, Thanks.

Posted by Wombat Central on July 24, 2015 in I love the 80's, Photography, Technology challenged |

If you’re in my age bracket, you’re familiar with cameras that utilized actual rolls of film. If you’re not, here’s a visual:

film camera

This is a slick model that automatically forwarded the film for you after each shot. No winding for this modern lady!

 

 

If you’re a smidgen younger than I am, you might be better acquainted with these:

Kodak would prefer you call this a "single use camera" instead of using the "D" word (pssst: disposable).

Kodak would prefer you call this a “single use camera” instead of using the “D” word (disposable).

 

 

They were frequently found on tables at weddings so guests could fill them with obscene pictures to be found months after the event wonderful candids of one other and the wedding party. They also tagged along on a lot of family vacations. Hand one to a kid and you might as well roll down the car window and toss out 10 bucks. Most will be of their stuffed animals, and the rest are pretty much guaranteed to be a blurry blobs.

Film cameras were kind of a crapshoot from start to finish. The uncertainty of it all just added to the adventure:

  • Did the film holes catch on the nubby things that move it along     or am I taking endless shots without the film advancing?
  • Was the film fresh (I’ve had film in my fridge for years. YEARS.)?
  • Was it blurry?
  • Did I get everyone in the shot, including their heads?
  • Was anyone blinking?
  • Wardrobe malfunctions?
  • Photobombers?

You didn’t know until you got that film back from being processed.

WHICH. TOOK. AN. ETERNITY.

Or so it felt.

Once you drove up to the Fotomat and ceremoniously handed it through the window to the trusty employee, you were all anticipation.

fotomat

Source

And that was one-day service in most cases! I always imagined the employee hiding behind that tiny counter rifling through your precious photos–some of which might have been taken without your knowing it. “Oh, sweet Jeebus, don’t let there be anything bad on those prints,” you’d think to yourself as you picked them up from the smirking kid.

[SIDEBAR: I also hate to admit how much brain space I allotted to wondering about the where and when of bathroom breaks for the people in that tiny booth. There couldn’t have possibly been room for a terlit in there. And if there was, did he post a little sign in the window when he used it?]

Um, did you wash your hands, there, fella?

Um, did you wash your hands before fondling my photos, fella?

 

When Fotomat folded, we went to mail order via Clark’s or York. That took an eternity. We aged about five years waiting for those prints to grace our mailbox. Didn’t matter that the film had been in the camera for three years and in a drawer for another two.

We wanted them back STAT! We could wait no longer to see them once we’d handed them off to someone.

Nowadays it’s a one-hour turnaround. I capture rapid-fire frames of Mister Man doing a karate jump off the coffee table and 60 minutes later I have a crisp print of him mid-air. No blinking, blurring, or missing body parts. Of course the employees there have seen everything you’ve sent, but you’re able to check digitally for anything that might be amiss.

The modern-day issue is that my hard drives are bursting at the seams with digital images and movies. One of them is near capacity, and I fear it may walk off the job any moment.

I guess I should get on that whole “weeding out” project soon. Like, yesterday.

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Movie Monday – Kingsman: The Secret Service

Posted by Wombat Central on July 21, 2015 in Furry Friends, Movies |

We’ve been scouring library shelves for this one for a while now, since the previews looked so good. We watched it last night, and I found it a bit lengthy at 129 minutes (especially for a week night!). Maybe a bit more editing would have been useful.

It was based on the comic book of the same name, but the flavor of this film could be loosely described as James Bond meets Quentin Tarantino with a side of Texas Chainsaw Massacre. A friend had told me it was extremely violent, but I thought, “Psssh. I’m sure I’ve seen worse.” Yeah. Not so sure I have.

So, let me warn you: IT’S PRETTY DANG VIOLENT.

If you, like the villain, are adversely affected by blood (or the severing of limbs), this may not be the movie for you. There are only so many times you can get up for snacks/bathroom to miss scenes like that. This movie may have more of these scenes than you have a need for food or the terlit.

That said, it did have its good points–the always dashing Colin Firth, whom it was fun to see as a gadget-toting, smooth-talking, gentlemanly secret agent; Samuel Jackson as a loose cannon colorful villain with a speech impediment that may or may not resemble that of a famous boxer; and newcomer cutie Taron Egerton as their latest scruffy-to-smooth, looks-pretty-dang-good-sans-shirt recruit.

Since I couldn’t find these on The Youtube, I did some low-tech recording in order share two of my favorite moments from the movie:

The rarley seen (in this film anyway) full-on double-dimple-delight grin from Mr. Firth:

 

Running with pug in shirt (if they hadn’t already done this in slo-mo, I would have done it for you), because this:

 

Hoping they dubbed in the puppy noises! Here’s an official trailer (Ermahgerd–it actually says “official trailer”):

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I’ll Drink to That.

Posted by Wombat Central on July 15, 2015 in Bloggers, Friends, Life, Too Much Time on my Hands |

Share a coke with wombat

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Fire Up Those Canadian Calculators

Posted by Wombat Central on June 23, 2015 in Giveaway! |

This morning I was on a contest kick. I signed up for a few things online and wanted to make sure I was checking out the fine print of the contest rules. What I found was pretty interesting:

In the event Canadians are eligible to enter as specified in the Eligibility paragraph below, and if there is a Canadian Winner, the Winner will be required to correctly answer a mathematical skill testing question as a condition of receiving the prize.

 

Is it just me or does it seem like they’re looking for a way to get out of giving the prize to a Canadian citizen? Now I’m wondering what kind of math problem they’ll be required to solve. I imagine it would be something like this:

Two hosers took off and bought 5 tukes for CDN$10.98 each. If hoser Mike covers 62 percent of the cost and hoser Getty covers 38 percent, how much would box seat tickets to the Maple Leafs be?*

As it turns out, a friend of mine whose wife is from the Great White North explained that Canadian contests are actually run this way. They’re required to answer a simple math problem before collecting their winnings. Sounds reasonable enough. But still an odd clause to find in a U.S. contest, if you’re asking this gal.

 

 

 

*Apologies to any tuke wearing Canadian friends who found the stereotypes in this math problem offensive. I learned most of what I know of Canada via Bob and Doug in the 80’s. So take off, eh?

 

 

 

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