Anyone else concerned that this year has a license to KILL?

Welcome to 007! A year that promises to be pretty much the same as last year, except that the probability that I will make James Bond jokes for at least four months is much, much greater. I rang in the new year from my couch, as the plague insured that I lacked the stamina and ability to party like it was 2006. Honestly, I tried. At one point I had even applied eye-liner and plugged in the Chi. But when I realized that my sinuses and pounding head prohibited me from walking in a straight line (and it wasn't the platform wedge shoes that a girl with my height and coordination has no business wearing, promise) I decided that driving wasn't the best idea. Oh, and heads up; don't mix champagne and Sudafed. Or maybe I'm the only one who needed to be told that...

But today I felt healthier! And ventured out of the house! And into my local cinema! To see Dreamgirls against my will!

Ok, Internet. We need to TALK.

Because that movie? Is not good. There, I said it. I can hear your gasps and cries and thuds as your lifeless bodies drop to the floor because I just insulted "ohmigod, the greatest movie eeeeevaaaaaar!" GUYS IT SUCKED. I knew it would, but no one would shut up about how awesome it is or how amazing Jennifer Hudson is or how this movie might possibly cure cancer and have the ability to successfully stage an intervention with Britney. It was GOD AWFUL, and I sat through all 56 hours in disbelief. It was seriously like an "Emperor's New Clothes" situation. I feel a total disconnect between myself and the rest of the viewing public. Just because the people making this movie paid eight quadrillion dollars to produce it doesn't mean you have to like it. And how must Diana feel about this? Why not just call it Supreme Girls and get over it, because it is basically her biography (except the real story of Motown is a trillion times more interesting, go read about it). Also, Beyonce? You can not act. I don't just mean you lack the ability, I mean you can't do it as in you're not allowed to do it, ever again, in any place where humans might see. Please.

The songs are terrible and not memorable at all. Except for this one song that Jamie Foxx sings to Beyonce that goes like this:
"You are my dream
A dream that I dreamed
Dream dream dream dream
Dreamity-dream"

Nightmare.