How Netflix Made Me a Better Man

Oh, Netflix. You have so much to offer this world. The Moustache would like to personally thank you for guiding me to such glorious and great things.

Seriously, though, Netflix recently had a contest posted out to nerds across the country to work on their recommendation engine. The idea was the improve their algorithm or whatever sort of nerdy thing is used to determine what I like. I wouldn't know. I'm not a nerd. But yeah, some nerd helped things out, but it still doesn't make much sense.

Discover the intimate details of my Netflix recommendations after the jump...

So a couple of weeks ago I decided that I was going to check out this Extras that's all the rage with the kids. So I get my two discs of Ricky Gervais fun and excitement in the mail and am ready for my new awkward experience that I've been seriously been missing since The Office was removed from the British airwaves.

It was funny and everything I could hope for. I wanted more. Like a heroin junkie I requested for some recommendations based on my stellar review (5 stars, Ricky, if you're reading). As I waited for the consequences of my review to come across I was imagining all the British humour glory that was to be discovered, to be loved, to be laughed at. The recommendations came and, much to my surprise, what was recommended to me was Who Killed the Electric Car and When the Levee Broke.

Ok, Who Killed the Electric Car? could have easily been played off at a party with a simple phrase like, "Seriously, the electric car surviving? What a joke!" Then me and my rich conservative friends would have clinked our tumblers filled with scotch in triumph of another well played joke only to adjust our monacles afterward due to the steam created from laughing so hard.

But When the Levee Broke? Seriously? That's like, Netflix, being that friend that goes, "You want to laugh? Do you? LAUGH AT THIS YOU IGNORANT, SELF-INDULGENT ASSHOLE!!! Dead people would love to laugh, but they can't. You want to know why? Do you? Then rent this movie next time you tell me you want something funny."

It was then that I realized my ways. How I really don't care about others. How Spike Lee could show me how to care again about those less fortunate than me. I went on a soul searching trek, dear readers, all the way to my fridge. Which was empty.

Then someone farted and I giggled.

Click For More...

How To Be Cool

Mr. Feelings fields lots of letters from teenagers going through their formative years. I'm gonna hit the "tweeners" with a bit of knowledge. In this whirligig world we live in, you've got influence being pushed on you from all kinds of crazy people. And I bet there's nothing you would love more than to be one of the "cool kids." So what makes you cool? I'll tell you what worked for me.




Find a hobby. For me, it was scale modeling. It gave me something to discuss at mixed functions with others my age. A girl would ask me why I had paint under my finger nails, and I could tell her it was because I was working on a detailed replica of the Slave-1. Of course she had no idea what that meant, but it allowed me to take the lead in the conversation.

Don't be afraid to venture outside your sphere of influence. I loved Star Wars, but some of my best friends turned out to be Star Trek fans. Blaspheme! I know, but if I had stuck to my sworn allegiance to George Lucas, I would have missed out on three separate Star Trek conventions, each with it's own unique set of memories. I got soooo many complements on my ILM T-shirt. A huge confidence boost. Which leads me to my next point:

Clothes matter. I used to go through the Lucas Arts catalog once a year with my mother and pick out three new T-shirts for the school year. I had my own unique style. Between those T's and my trips to Ross for slacks, I always looked my best.


Practice good hygiene. Deodorant and hair gel should be the cornerstone of every boy wanting to look his Sunday best. Carry a comb in your back pocket for emergencies such as a tricky cowlick.



Last, study hard. Work like your mom is a teacher at your school, and always looking over your shoulder, constantly watching, talking to your teachers, giving you hugs in the hallway. She loves you; that's why she smothers you. You can't talk to girls. You're too busy anyway, what with the model building and all. Your mom is your best friend. Don't cry. They can see you. They can all see you. See you and your shame. You'll never be cool now. Never, ever.

Click For More...