Oh, the bitter, bitter irony. The enchanting story of a man who had scissors for hands (and one of my favorite movies of all time) is playing at the dollar theater in town, and the title is butchered on the kiosk. Shockingly enough, I let my frustration for this spelling error overshadow the fact that the worst movie on the planet (OK, maybe it’s not the worst… I did see The Transporter) was playing two weeks prior to me getting the chance to spend an hour and a half developing an argument for whether or not Anthony Michael Hall became a juicer.

Sorry Peg, but blending is not the secret to fixing the damage done. It is painfully seared into my brain! And of course, I still haven’t gone back to this theater, despite the fact that 4 of of the 5 shows would’ve been killer to watch on the big screen. Sigh.