Bonnie loves this stupid fucking movie. We watched it three times during COVID, and since then, I absolutely refuse to ever watch it again. I hate it so much.

In July of 2021, my mom asked me if I wanted to go to the El Capitan in Hollywood to see The Jungle Book. I always liked that one, and I thought it would be cool to see it in a fancy old theater, so I accepted her invitation. You can imagine my surprise when I walked into the theater and saw The Jungle Cruise projected onto the gold curtain hanging in front of the screen.

“We’re seeing The Jungle Cruise?” I asked suspiciously.

“Yeah, what did you think we were seeing?” my mom replied.

“The Jungle Book,” I said, “because you said we were seeing The Jungle Book.”

I was ready to walk out when the movie started, and I realized it was just The Mummy set in South America. A smart, adventurous woman, her inept and lazy brother, a rough-hewn but capable guide, and a cursed antagonist. For whatever reason that I can’t explain, I didn’t hate The Jungle Cruise.

This afternoon, Bonnie had to go to a client’s house, and they had three cats. She’s deathly allergic and spent way too long in the house. When she got home, she took an allergy pill, and by 8 p.m., she couldn’t keep her eyes open, but she was fighting it. She always fights it. I told her to get comfortable, and I would put on The Mummy, and she could sleep through it. Then, I went out for a walk. I had hoped it would be over by the time I got home, but the fucking steaming pile of shit is over two hours long. Two hours!

At least I didn’t have to endure the whole thing.