Friday night conversations #7 To school, or not to school?

I’m putting myself in the line of fire tonight for Friday’s conversation.

I’ve had a few days to settle, and I really wanna know what you think…

Baby girl wasn’t allowed to start school when it resumed on Tuesday… can you guess why?

Well, she has symptoms. Cold symptoms.

Sorry, symptom.

Sure. I get it. Sick kids, cannot go to school with all this coronavirus still so much in the forefront of our lives.

But that’s not the case you see… all she has is a cough.

A post-infectious, non-contagious cough.

She has been under the weather for a while. Because the cold hit her so long ago, like literally months ago, she only still has the remnants of that one, lone, annoying symptom…

The cough. The annoying, cough.

(Cough cough).

The cough that can last FOREVER… but no. She cannot go.

I was soooo cranky. Actually, cranky is not the right word. I was something like, vicious.

I’ve calmed down substantially since then, with a relaxed F$%^ you attitude.

But I wanna know (and don’t let the above throw you off!)…

What do you think? Do you think a child should be allowed to go to school, with a cough, even though it is NON-CONTAGIOUS?

Or do you think all symptoms, any symptoms, catchy-catchy or not, should stay the hell away?

I promise if you respond, I will not bite…

Photo by Oleg Magni on Pexels.com

:):):)

Things that shit me… #19

Things that shit me…

Stupid coronavirus restrictions that MAKE NO SENSE.

You know, I’ve been fairly fortunate during this coronavirus isolation period.

Working from home.

Not having to go out on cold days.

Living in trakkies all day long.

There have been difficult moments too. Sad moments. Frustrating moments. Bash-your-head-on-the-wall moments.

But nothing really revved me up, until today.

Because hell hath no fury, like a Mum being told she can’t take her daughter to school after 2 months of isolation.

I did the right thing yesterday, I did the honest thing. I told baby girl’s teacher that she was still coughing, despite it being a cough that she’s had from the start of term 1, but nonetheless she was coughing.

But the word was, any cold symptoms, no matter how mild, and your child could not attend school.

Fine. So I went to her doctor.

Not to get around it! I wanted some medicine damn it. I was hoping in the process I could get some myself, since my cough had progressed to something more irritating and persistent than hers.

The doc, amazingly said… her cough was not contagious.

His words… “post-infectious.”

Because she had gone through the cold cycle… but something about the viral cough coming back… it was just the cough, nothing else… and therefore she couldn’t pass on the cough, this nasty little remnant and reminder of the seasonal cold, onto anybody else.

HE would even give me a certificate to prove it.

YAY! I thought! YAY YAY YAY!

I sent the letter to her teacher last night… and we tentatively waited.

Meanwhile we packed her school bag… got out her school clothes… decided on her lunch…

And got excited about the potential chance to return to a little bit of normality.

This morning, a phone call, from her teacher.

She wasn’t allowed to come.

Any cough, whether infectious or not, and she wasn’t allowed to attend school. In fact, we even discussed how coughs can last for up to 3 months…

Yep. The sentiment was kinda like, there’s nothing we can do.

Tough luck.

Suffer in your jocks.

Nothing. Nada.

I ended the call, and felt like screaming and crying at the same time.

And can I just say, feeling so angrily inclined, so emotionally charged that you could literally break something, before 9am in the morning, is like, the WORST WAY TO START YOUR DAY.

My anger clouded me so much, that I had to repeat simple morning tasks before I got it right, my rage and fury at the situation were so strong.

In fact, I’m still surprised no electrical appliances haven’t spontaneously combusted in my presence today, and like Carrie from well, Carrie, the Stephen King book, there isn’t like blood running down walls and fires erupting and houses coming down.

It feels unfair. So unfair. I just can’t. I had to eat chocolate, and run, and then do yoga, just to bring some equilibrium to my body… but that was at 4pm. I had to deal with these emotions prior to that, all day long.

It’s not that I don’t get the rules. I totally get the rules. I just think it’s shit that –

a) a cough lasts FOREVER

6) she is post-infectious, meaning she won’t pass on her cough anyway

E) I know, I just know (you know too) there are gonna be parents trying to sneak their kids into school when they have sick symptoms, and they will go undetected because if the teachers can’t bloody police the kids during recess and lunch, how the hell are they gonna hear every cough, sneeze and sniffle?

11) I was honest, and I suffer, but the sneaky ones are gonna get away with it!

Z) Baby girl doesn’t deserve this! She has been so good and patient at home, watching me work for the whole bloody day, being understanding, being just generally awesome, and this is her bloody payback? Stay at home some more? Indefinitely?

8.2) If the cough hasn’t gone away for this long, how the hell am I meant to be excited about it going away at ANY point in the future?

I AM NOT EXCITED ANYMORE.

If I so much as hear that a kid from her school sneezed in the presence of a flower, or made a gasping sound after drinking from their water bottle too quickly, and they aren’t getting sent home due to displaying ‘symptoms’…

THERE WILL BE HELL TO PAY!

Friday night conversations #6 Do you think it’s time?

As a parent, you either do, or you don’t…

You either think it’s absolutely time that kids go back to school…

Or you think it’s way too early, and really don’t wanna get up to prepare those morning lunches in the cold Autumn-Winter mornings just yet.

Me? Well I honestly didn’t think kids would be going back so soon. I thought this would go on for several more weeks, or at least ’til next term. I was happy to keep baby girl home for a little longer…

BUT, and a big BUT. I am really happy, really super duper happy, to have her going back next week.

She needs it, I need it, hell we ALL need it.

Where do you stand? Too early, or right on time?

Photo by VisionPic .net on Pexels.com

Friday night conversations #5 What will you do first?

Maybe somewhat pre-emptive, what with coronavirus still well and truly on the forefront of our fears, our minds, our lives…

But with restrictions lifting ever so slightly in Melbourne this week, I was thinking:

“When everything is open, where will you go first? What will you do first?”

I’ll go first.

This is all highly dependent on the day, for sure. But I think I will wander over to a café… somewhere.

Anywhere.

Breathe in the caffeine fumes and warm food emanating from the kitchen…

IMAG8728

And relax in the company of people. Hell, maybe even some less than 1.5 metres.

😮😱

What will you do first? Where will you go?

A sign of Tassie times

Signal Station Brasserie
700 Nelson Road, Mount Nelson TAS

(Visited August ’18)

It was our last, FULL day in Hobart. The days were still sunny and calm (did we get lucky or what?) and after we discovered that traveling to the top of Mount Wellington from our accommodation would take us 40 minutes, one way, we decided to opt for the much shorter distance to Mount Nelson… we had driven to Port Arthur the day before and were getting seriously over driving. This was a holiday after all.

Mount Wellington would have to wait until next time.

We drove under 20 minutes instead, along winding roads with scenery that continued to grow and expand and show us snippets of what we were coming to see… far off mountains and valleys and endless greenery. After a couple of wrong turns we finally made our way up a residential looking street, and came to a dead end at what was the summit.

Not only did we find views… but we found a café (heart).

The signal station brasserie.

IMAG3452

 

IMAG3476

Now those are my kind of views. 180 degree views along Southern Tasmania, thank you very much.

First, we had to take in some splendid scenery.

Breathe in with me…

IMAG3451

And breathe out.

IMAG3456

Ahhh.

The signal station was the first to be built in Tasmania, back in 1811… holey moley. Used back then for signalling and the reporting of shipping to the Port of Hobart and eventually to Port Arthur, it is now a place of rich history and fascination as tourists and locals alike come to feast their eyes on outlooks that were once used for very different means.

And to have a spot of afternoon tea, of course 😉

IMAG3503

IMAG3504

Back then it would have been in operation every day as the café was now… 7 days a week. We turned our attentions to the few tables that were getting baked in the Winter sun, and grabbed one before anyone else beat us. Soon, an interesting looking chap walked over and gave us some menus before walking away and talking to himself as he had been talking to us – like he had known us forever.

 

There was both himself, and a woman making the inner and outer café rounds, and it was with the latter that we made our afternoon orders, before proceeding to sit back and enjoy the fresh and beautiful surrounds.

It is a most magical spot. There is also inside seating within a small building that would have most likely been a house, sitting opposite the signal station tower on the other side…

But on the day that we had, you would have been crazy to wanna miss those views, and that sunshine.

Soon we were very happily being attended to.

Hubbie was happy to receive his short black with James Boags

IMAG3479

Baby girl got a very colourful babycino

IMAG3477

And I got a cap, while she and I shared some Signal Station Lemon Scones – with housemade jam and freshly whipped cream (2 per serve. $11.50)

IMAG3481

IMAG3486

Those scones were just sky high. They were a very decent serving, even for two, and baby girl enjoyed them as much as I did, applying lashings of cream… licking it off the scone… then applying more cream.

Ahh. Kid life.

Her marshmallows were forgotten but had been promised, so the man promptly called her into the café so she could pick up her never-ever-forgotten cushions of pillowy goodness from out of the jar. She was in heaven.

My coffee was great as was Hubbie’s short black, and he enjoyed it alongside his Sunday arvo beer, classic Aussie style. It was a lovely afternoon out in the sun and we felt particularly lucky to have been granted such pristine weather on our stay in Hobart, since we had definitely not expected it being Winter… being Tasmania.

When it was time to pay and go, I ventured inside to see the interior, and passed the most fantastic sign, that I was immediately compelled to capture:

IMAG3493

What a beautiful sentiment. It gave me ALL the feels, and had me in such a happy state, that when what happened later inside, happened, I guess it was fortunate for them, as I had already been buttered up like a sky-high scone before my massive letdown…

Like a pancake.

Because you see, I went inside to pay, and was standing in front of the register/coffee making counter, waiting to pay. The man who had tended to us earlier was busy making coffees and playing catch up, and there was a father and daughter duo who were ordering a specific drink for the girl… it could have been lactose, gluten free, almond milk perhaps, who knows. But the discussion as the man behind the counter made the drinks, was that she had a difficult order, the man had successfully made it, and they were now telling the man that they were appreciative of his efforts. The father and daughter walked off, the girl with her takeaway drink in hand.

Stay with me.

Meanwhile, as eccentric man as we’ll call him, was behind the counter playing catch up on drink-making, having his last of the conversation with the father and daughter duo, another couple walked up and were to the side, also appearing to want to pay. At this stage I did that thing where you move a bit closer to the counter, in an effort to say ‘I was here first,’ hopeful that surely, eccentric man would realise I had been waiting longer.

But then as the father and daughter duo exited, eccentric man started talking to the couple – they knew each other. Jokes were shared, inside convo, local lingo, things about the café, upcoming events… they mucked about and laughed and meanwhile I smiled profusely in the background as eccentric man made these drinks, thinking ‘any time now. Any time.’

Any time now, he will finish his drink making, turn to this couple and say “sorry I’ll just serve this young lady, she was here first.”

This young lady, tourist from Melbourne.

This young lady, first timer to Signal Station Brasserie.

This young lady, patiently standing and waiting.

This young lady, whose alias is SmikG and is a food blogger.

!!!

Then the UNTHINKABLE.

(Or perhaps, thinkable by now because I have been leading there).

He started to put through their order first.

(Mouth gaping open emoji.)

More unthinkable… the couple let him.

Sure, they kind of may not have known what I wanted… I was simply WAITING THERE TO PAY NOT DOING ANYTHING ELSE.

I enjoy just standing around doing nothing on sunny Sundays.

Majority blame, goes entirely to eccentric man. Making the drinks, ignoring me the entire time, and going ahead to let someone else pay before me.

In horror I watched as he unapologetically put through the other couple’s order, and as he did, and they paid, they continued chatting, and laughing, and taking their GOD DAMN TIME.

By the time they decided they had been there long enough, the couple walked off SLOWLY, talking to him over their shoulder, and I, feeling like a volcano about to erupt, walked hastily RIGHT UP to the counter and waited to pay. He made no apology, made small talk, I paid and was OFF.

I was gob-smacked.

Hubbie looked at me like ‘where the hell have you been?’

I said “don’t – I can’t talk about it now. I’ll fill you in in the car.”

And then we proceeded to verbally bash the unhospitable event for the next 30 minutes. Oh the story has even made its way to people back home, don’t worry. More in the below notes…

Food: I can only score on the scones, so a 7.5/10. Generous servings make for happy customers.

Coffee: 7/10. Pleasing and adequate.

Ambience: Unmistakably serene and chilled… a beautiful place to enjoy on a sunny day, with uninterrupted mountain and coastal views, and the cafe building a quaint interior, cottage-feel type place where you could easily hide away in and feel like you have stepped into someplace special.

Staff: Away from my comical exclamation marks and open-mouthed emojis, is this cold, hard FACT:

In Melbourne, this kind of queue jumping would not stand up.

Would not hold court.

Would not be acceptable.

The ignorance and blatant disregard would be dealt with, like a lion taking prey upon a stray zebra.

It is just not on. To be standing there waiting to pay, (busy or not busy) and then someone jumps in front you (their friend or no friend) is just so unprofessional and so unhospitable, it speaks volumes.

Hubbie told a workmate about this story, and his work mate said ‘that is not unlike Tasmania.’

No where else did anything like this happen. Everyone was wonderful in fact. So I don’t know how isolated this incident is, but if there are fellow travellers or Tasmanian locals who know of this kind of disregard for decency and order, please by all means enlighten me on what THE RULES ARE.

But, if I am waiting to pay, anywhere in the world, and someone else comes along and then jumps in front, the wait staff allows it and then proceeds to not even apologise or make any mention of it and there is no emergency to justify the queue-jumping?

Well in the matter of common global human decency, that is not on. In no language or country is that ON.

It just makes no sense. I am actually a very fair and understanding person, and I try to see both sides, but in this one I see only ONE.

Massive rant over.

People: Older couples (grrr) as mentioned, families, and kids. Tourists are onto this place equally as much as the locals are, yet it still remains quite secluded, private and unique.

Price: I paid, but got no receipt, or else I misplaced it in my overwhelming confusion and frustration. I have it on strong suspicion it was in the low $30s, which would make sense as we had predominantly drinks.

Advice: Despite everything said above, I urge you to visit this place… there’s nothing quite like enjoying a drink or a snack, and being able to see amazing vistas with your butt still firmly planted on a bench. Go early on a sunny day and enjoy the outdoors.

In a nutshell: Again, despite all I have vented about, I would come here again… and to eat, and coffee… I don’t know how I would be come face-to-face with eccentric man… but I would just turn my gaze towards the mountains, and Signal to myself –

‘something good will happen to me today.’

IMAG3453

Signal Station Brasserie Menu, Reviews, Photos, Location and Info - Zomato

Friday night conversations #4 What’s your favourite season?

A really simple convo starter tonight, but albeit one that all people have a definitive answer to when asked.

As every year passes I find myself appreciating the cyclic benefits of the changing seasons… especially in Melbourne where we feel the drastic elements all too strongly.

Winter with its hibernating instinct, asks us all to look within, take inventory of our lives, reflect and respond, in doing so preparing ourselves for the re-birth of…

Spring. With the promise of new opportunities, ideas bloom and spring forth in our social consciousness just as much as they do in nature, and we are treated to an abundance of promising and exciting new paths to take in our life.

The dry and humid heat of Summer allows us to relax, sit in the sun and soak in the fruits of our labour. We enjoy the days with leisure, and allow it all to boil to the surface… living life in excess, taking life by the reins and RUNNING with it.

And then Autumn. We shed the past, wash away our fears, and step away from our old habits, ridding ourselves of that which does not serve us and preparing ourselves for the self-reflection in the dark and quiet months ahead.

I’ve come to realise that there is beauty in ALL these months… yes, even Winter.

(I’ve even written a big Winter post about it, so you can be sure that will be re-shared fairly soon).

But my personal fave?

Summer. 😁🌞

The leonine that I am… I love to bathe in the sunlight, watching the world go by, taking temporary pause and stock of my life, while simultaneously trying to be amongst every single Jungle event that season. 😂

What is you favourite season, and why?

Which path do you take on the topic?

road nature trees branches

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Baby girl says the darndest things #9

Baby girl is playing with her Frozen puzzle.

I see Hubbie walking up the footpath, home for lunch.

“Look honey! Tato is home.”

She glances.

“I don’t wanna look at Tato.”

“What? Why?”

She sighs. “I still love my Tato… but I don’t wanna look at him.”

???

“Why, what’s wrong?”

Another sigh. “I’m not 100% today.”

“I’m 40.”

🤣🤣🤣

Then, as Hubbie got to the door, she skipped over to the other side, opened it happily for him, and proceeded to say with enthusiasm “I’ve got a story to tell you…”

😏

Kids.

person girl window child

Photo by Danielle Truckenmiller on Pexels.com

 

‘What Does It Mean’ Monday #14 “loo”

We all know what a ‘loo’ is, right? And I ain’t talking about the nickname for a Louie, Louisa, or Luella or whatever other name you might shorten to ‘Lou.’

Rather, I am talking about the ‘loo’ that we use all the time, that we can’t live without, that makes our lives easy and hygienic…

I’m talking…

wrapped toilet paper on top of a toilet tank

Photo by Daria Shevtsova on Pexels.com

This loo right there. The toilet.

So why the hell is it called a ‘loo?’

Well get set, because this potty business is fascinating stuff.

(Pun totally intended).

Firstly, the word ‘loo’ is of British origin, yet countries around the world have their own wacky nicknames for the smallest room in the house.

The Jacks.

Crapper.

Shit house.

Restroom.

The John.

Lavatory.

WC (for ‘water closet’)

Bog.

And with all of these insane names, all of which have weird stories behind them, one popular theory to the history of the word ‘loo’ comes from the cry of –

“regardez l’eau”

Which when pronounced sounds like ‘gardy-loo’

Which means “watch out for the water!”

This phrase came from medieval servants as they flung toilet waste from chamber pots out of second storey houses onto the street below, to warn passersby of the approaching excrement…

🤢

Yuck.

The second theory comes from the idea that all toilets were commonly located in ‘Room 100’ within buildings, and as the number ‘100’ and ‘loo’ look so similar, the word loo became synonymous with this room number and it’s subsequent function.

But for another likely term, we go back to the French. Again.

Because the word “lieux,”

pronounced as ‘loo,’

from the term “lieux d’aisance,”

meaning ‘places of comfort’ or ‘comfort stations,’ seems to be a rather fitting attribution, something that British soldiers may have picked up while in France for World War I.

James Joyce’s 1922 novel Ulysses first makes mention of it in the following passage:

“O yes, mon loup. How much cost? Waterloo. Watercloset.”

A hilarious ‘loo’ anecdote points to a ‘Lady Louisa’ who was the unpopular wife of an Earl, who found herself the butt of a joke (so many puns!) when in 1867 while visiting friends, two smart arses as we would know them today to be, took the namecard off her bedroom door and stuck it to the bathroom.

This then resulted in the other visitors jokingly referring to using the bathroom as “going to Lady Lou-isa.”

🤣 Oh so cheap, but so good.

Perhaps it’s the simplest theory of all that makes sense, and might relate to the fact that iron cisterns back in the 20th century had the brand name of ‘Waterloo’ within their British outhouses…

But maybe we aren’t ever meant to know truly about the toilet???

Of course there are many other theories and people will argue the origin of it, of which none of us really knows.

But anyway, all things for you to think about and ponder next time you’re sitting on the dunny.

😂🚽🚾🚻🧻

Is there a phrase or quote you want me to investigate?

Let me know, and I’ll give it a go!

Got us by the ball and chain

The Ball and Chain Grill
87 Salamanca Place, Battery Point TAS

(Visited August ’18)

Woah ho peeps. On official day 3 of our Hobart adventure, and at the end of a long day travelling to Port Arthur and being absolutely wowed by the scenery, well, we were still yet to be wowed by a dinner option.

It was an ongoing, intense search to find a restaurant that had red meat for Hubbie… kid-friendly food for baby girl… and then I wanted to be happy too you know… and yet finding a happy medium for all seemed almost impossible.

It would be easy if we all loved seafood. Oh how easy it would be if we ALL loved seafood (like me!) But alas life isn’t easy like that my friends.

Not with a fussy butcher and 5 year-old child.

We needed pasta, or carbs for her. Meat for him. It had to be mid-range. Not a party place, not the poshiest restaurant, but we didn’t want to be led down the back of an alleyway either.

The options that we found fit the bill were unfortunately closed. Some for renovations, some just for that night.

Oh the drama!

Oh the holidaying first world problems!

😭

So when I came across the online menu for this one I had to have a second look. It appeared ok. We had to check it out.

We went to Salamanca Place, again, and discovered the menu was deceiving…

IMAG3408

Oh, how the menu was deceiving…

Because it was so much better!

The current Ball and Chain Grill building was built in the 1800s by convicts, and what started out as offices dealing with the stock of wool, whale oil and food, has grown over time into the traditional dining establishment we have today.

The online menu explained to me the extensive dinner options, which is why I was so confused on arrival. Sure there were the appetisers, entrée and mains, the grilled section and also the kids meals. But then as we arrived, walking past the traditional wood panelled rooms, the open-view grilling section at the front, and were seated in this multi-layered, multi-roomed establishment which was filled to the brim with people, we saw, a kind of salad bar in the middle of the venue.

Curious, yet not sure what to think, we followed our waitress to our seats, and lucky for us she had since spied our out-of-town status a mile away and proceeded to explain to us their concept.

Which is when we had our “ahhhh!” moment.

We could order as we liked from the menu, but the salad bar was their free, all-you-can-eat addition… you could go and choose from a variety of salads and vegetable-type side dishes, with sauces to choose from too, take as many away as you liked, and that was FREE.

It was FREE.

Considering he is a butcher, this excited my green-leafed guy immensely. He could fill up on as many greens as he could muster, and then spend his hard-earned cash on the things that pleased him most:

Meat, and Alcohol.

😉

After getting a spot of drinks, a local red for me and a Moo Brew beer for him…

IMAG3399

And then soon after observing some interesting pics on the walls around us and looking up at the glass ceiling…

IMAG3407

We ordered with our friendly waitress, and then proceeded to take turns at the ‘salad bar.’

😯

Just to clarify, these were cold salads. We got things like lettuce, cucumber, noodles and chickpea salads alongside beetroot…

(Many apologies for the crap photos, dim lighting was my enemy)

IMAG3397

And then our meals came. Kids meals are $15 and the pasta option was pasta bolognaise, but our girl being anti-sauce at the time, we were able to get her plain pasta with cheese:

IMAG3403

I got the 180g eye fillet with potatoes and satay sauce on the side

IMAG3406

While Hubbie got the 300g porterhouse steak with potatoes and tomato sauce

IMAG3404

And there were also seasonal vegies alongside that to share (in baby girl’s pasta photo).

I’m going to work backwards here. I say ‘potatoes,’ but as you can see there is only two potatoes. I know. I guess they figure that you get your sides from all the other free food on offer. Ok I can look past that, and my also smallish serving due to that fact. I didn’t walk away hungry.

Hubbie thought his medium steak was good, but slightly undercooked given it was meant to be ‘medium’… and having said that, my steak too was slightly undercooked for what I genuinely preferred. Although our waitress was lovely, she had suggested we get our steaks cooked to a ‘medium,’ rather than ‘medium to well’ as we wanted, so it was a case of we should have just gone with our inner-most thoughts… after all we know US best, right?

I thought baby girl’s pasta presentation was pretty average, you may probably disagree and say what else can you do with plain pasta and cheese, and I will say, LOTS! I am the plain pasta expert here! But alas, she still ate most of it so I won’t complain much.

The wine was great, the beer was satisfying to Hubbie, and once we had eaten all our meals and sides and taken in the Saturday night Hobart surrounds, we figured it was time we headed off to rest before another sightseeing day.

Food: 7/10. Good food, good variety, your traditional type of fare.

Coffee: N/A.

Ambience: Bustling and busy, happening and loud, though there were intimate places about, so you could be private if you wanted to be… it was a Saturday night though.

Staff: Our waitress was wonderful and warm, and tended to our every question.

People: Family-friendly, older groups, couples, friends, you find them all here, though I do think the focus is the settled family crowd.

Price: $106, which is mid-range, considering we had all those salads we didn’t have to pay for. Our steaks brought the price up too.

Advice: If you are hungry, your friend will be that salad bar. 😍 Save yourself, then eat it all later.

In a nutshell: It’s a traditional type of restaurant and one I would go to again when in Salamanca Place… there is great variety, plenty of room, and an old-school, vintage feel that is hard to create or emulate elsewhere, as it comes with the experience and history of the town and the buildings within.

And just like the restaurant, I have to say, many things nowadays aren’t created to the high standards that they once were. Head on down to check out the expertly crafted building and subsequent food, of equal stature.

Ball & Chain Grill Menu, Reviews, Photos, Location and Info - Zomato

Friday night conversations #3 What huge movie haven’t you watched?

The wind is howling outside, it’s bloody cold, so let’s get the ball rolling with this week’s conversation starter!

Everyone has one of these.

There will be a huge, blockbuster, legendary, star-studded, unforgettable, iconic, all-time classic mega movie that everyone around you has watched…

And yet you haven’t seen a peep of it.

I’ll start…

I have NEVER watched… any Star Wars movies.

marvel-star-wars-allegiance

ANY of them. EVER EVER EVER.

I know quite a few spoilers from the first movies. I know some big plots.

But the most I have seen of it is via other other forms of entertainment, such as through shows like The Simpsons and Family Guy standing it up.

Your turn!

What big movie haven’t you watched???