You ****ing *******, you should **** with your **** until it **** into a shrivelled, gray mass.

I am quivering with anticipation over the prospect of Ratatouille this weekend, largely because, hey, The Incredibles. The Iron Giant. And Pixar has a pretty good track record, although Cars seemed as much an excercise in how-many-celebrity-cameos-can-we-get-in-a-movie as much as a compelling story about our obsession with speed and the decline of small-town America, and would have been stronger without "Jay Limo" and the like. I guess that sort of thing sells tickets.

In the meantime, I'm quite enjoying the comments to the sole reviewer on Rotten Tomatoes to give Ratatouillea less-than-stellar review. Some excerpts:

• "You Bastard. Did DreamWorks pay you to ruing the best rated animated movie of all time?"
• "I Smell Something Else...like a two-bit moron from Arizona who wouldn't know a great movie if it burrowed a hole into his esophagus and exploded."
• "What more can you say about someone who doesn't like Bird's movies but loved "Yu-Gi-Oh: The Movie" and "Resident Evil: Apacolypse (sic)"?"