OK, I am not a gun owner

... but as a bona fide parent of 3, if I found that some sorry, misbegotten creature like Mike Myers's Cat in the Hat had been associating with my kids, I'd drive to a gun shop, buy a .45 and a box of shells, come home, load the gun, and empty it into the Cat in the Hat, pausing only to reload until the box was empty. And even then I would probably pull the trigger through ten or twenty more dry clicks.

This movie is the most miserable excuse for a film ever - with the exception of Kelly Preston, who was admittedly worth seeing. I am not conservative or prudish by any means, but I do appreciate decent entertainment and genuine humor, and this movie had neither. I don't consider good humor to be a deranged lunatic threatening to "end" someone with a meat cleaver or showing off a fake ass while rummaging through couch cushions. It wasn't zany or amusing; it was just stupid. And with the exception of the fine Ms. Preston, anyone associated with this stinkbomb of a film ought to be tarred, feathered and run out of town on a rail.