Alright. So my Google Chromecast stopped working. No warning, no smoke, just… gave up. Probably exhausted. It’s been streaming Midsomer Murders for years. That’s a lot of village trauma.
My telly was ancient as well. One of those big ones that weighs more than a sofa. Needed something just to cast Midsomer Murders. I’ve never actually seen a full episode. Not properly. I always fall asleep. Every time. There was one about a folk musician though — watched that start to finish. Riveting. Banjo-based tension. But the rest? I wake up at the end, half the village has been murdered, Barnaby’s being threatened with a pistol, and I’ve no idea how it escalated from a bake sale to armed hostage situation.
Anyway, Chromecast was sold out everywhere. Typical. The one time you need technology, it’s gone. So I ended up with a Firestick. Didn’t even want one. Sounds like something you’d use to start a campfire, not watch murder mysteries.
Got it home — turns out it doesn’t cast everything. You’d think that’d be its whole job. “Stick it in, it does the telly stuff.” Simple. No. Had to subscribe to some app so it would cast properly. I don’t even know if I’m still paying for it. Could be draining 4 quid a month for the rest of my life. I’ll find out when I’m 80 and the bank says, “You’ve spent £3,200 on something called CastyMcCastFace.”
Then not long after buying it, I moved to a bigger house. Needed a bigger, newer telly. The Firestick became pointless. Like buying an umbrella and then moving to the desert.
So I put the old telly out on the driveway. Meant to take it to the tip. Forgot about it. It’s just been out there. Through three snowstorms. Proper blizzards. Looked like a modern art installation. “Man Regrets Purchase.”
The other day my brother asks, “You happy with your Firestick?” I had to tell him it’s still technically outside. Frozen into the back of a prehistoric television. He goes, “I’ll have it.” Took it home.
Now I understand why it’s called Firestick. It’s survived months buried in snow and freezing temperatures. That thing’s tougher than me. If society collapses, I’m hiding behind it.
And yesterday I finally found out why my Chromecast stopped working in the first place. Got an email from Google. Apparently there was an update. Months ago. That I never did.
So it wasn’t broken. It just needed updating. Which feels unfair. If something needs updating to keep existing, is it really alive?
In summary: Bought a Firestick I didn’t need because I fell asleep during murder shows and ignored an email. It survived Arctic conditions. I don’t know if I’m still subscribed to something. And I still don’t know how Barnaby keeps ending up at gunpoint.
Three out of five. It’s good in the snow.
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