When I was growing up there was this comic strip about an organge tabby cat. I loved it. Then a movie about said cat came out. Garfield: The Movie. I Should have known better, I really should have.

Not only because it was face-wrenchingly awful, but also because I was giving in to a childhood memory that I knew would disappoint me.

Garfield: The Movie taught me that you can actually regret an afternoon at the movies because what you saw was so dreadful.

While this was not a surprise it was the most shocking example.

For that reason, because it shattered my unconditional joy at going to the movies, I hate it. I hate it so much.