Dear Netflix: please stop telling me I like Bollywood movies

The saying, “you get what you pay for” isn’t always true. I once won the low bid at a bachelors auction and can say with some measure of certainty — don’t judge a book by its cover, and good things come in small packages. IfyouknowwhatImean.

After being a Netflix subscriber for over six months now, I’ve reached the conclusion I’d rather stand in line at the movie theater — freezing my ass off —  casting the evil eye on nasty little line cutters and trying not to weep when the cashier tells me the price for two tickets. All that would be worth it because lately, Neflix has been letting me down.

Correction.

Netflix never got me up in the first place. Well, maybe there was a bit of excitement at the beginning, like in any new relationship. A few intimate nights with the remote. Now I snort up freshly ground espresso beans just to get up the energy to sign in. Is it me or is there a shitload of crap steaming streaming out there?

Maybe I’m on the wrong Netflix. Maybe I’m on the beta version of Netflix and my computer fucked up and blocked the update.

Maybe the good Netflix costs more?

Could this be how John Travolta learned his moves?

All I know is my Netflix carries way too many movies featuring actors speaking really fast in Hindi, with plots that seem to rely heavily on belly dancing.

I enjoy foreign films, especially those with an engrossing story line and a cast of hot actors. I don’t discriminate based on skin color…only on the basis of hot-ness. I can dig a bit of Bollywood but color me picky, I like a little variety.

Netflix throws a hissy fit trying to get me to rate the movies I’ve watched. I’d like to know who rates Netflix. Never one to pass up an opportunity to offer suggestions, especially when I haven’t been asked, here’s my take on what they’re doing wrong:

a) Stop asking me to rate movies you know I haven’t seen yet. I have “My List” and it’s full of movies I’m planning to watch. Maybe that’s your way of reminding me to watch my list but it’s burning my ass so back off.

Two) Do you see any part of me that’s interested in wrestling? Have I EVER watched a movie where two men get sweaty while rolling around on a mat? Except that time I accidentally clicked on some gay porn and forgot to go back to browse. Twice.

iii) Don’t ask me to rate movies I’ve already watched if you’re not going to pay attention. Every time I finish watching a movie or television show, you ask me to rate it. Supposedly so you can offer recommendations. Great idea so imagine the frustration when you get it totally wrong. Again. Now, I could stop rating movies altogether but I’m kind of scared about what you’d recommend for me if I did. More anime perhaps?

4) And just what IS your fascination with anime anyway? Actually, let’s not even go there as I can already smell a teenager’s room rank with sweaty socks and other odors I could put a name to but won’t.

5ive) When you buy a movie that’s part of a franchise, you do know there’s a FIRST movie in the series, right? Getting us all freaked out about Mike Myers doesn’t really work if you only order Parts Two thru Six and forget to buy “Halloween,” the original movie that started it all. Don’t be such cheap bastards.

At $7.99 a month, maybe it’s not fair that I’m giving Netflix such a hard time. They do pay the studios top dollar for the rights to stream popular television shows and that’s leading to all kinds of bitching and moaning by network television. But with a reported paid viewership of 30 million, someone’s getting the shaft and I’m not talking about —

Who’s the black private dick
That’s a sex machine to all the chicks?
SHAFT!
Ya damn right!

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