I saw a commercial for The Cat in the Hat the other day that referred to it as “the movie you’ve been waiting for this holiday season.”

You know something, assholes? Your movie is not what I’ve been waiting for this holiday season. You know what I have been waiting for, though? The reanimated corpse of Theodore Seuss Geisel to emerge from his grave and throttle everyone who was involved in the production of this disgusting, soulless film. And when he’s finished with that, I want him to take one of the canisters containing this wretched piece of cinematic excrement and beat his widow to death with it for allowing this monstrosity to come into existence. For shame, woman. You are so going to hell. And when you get there, you’ll have to spend eternity sharing a sofa with your soulmate, Yoko Ono. And she’ll be singing.

Mike Myers? I officially hate you. Also, Shrek sucked. Just because you’re talking in a brogue doesn’t mean you’re funny. You have to actually say funny things for that to happen. Why don’t you stop counting your money for a minute and tune in to some SNL reruns and try to remember back to those days when you actually made an effort? ASS.