Listen, I have been a fan of the SATC franchise since day one (not to the point of drinking Cosmos in solidarity or uttering sentences like "I'm so a Charlotte!" -- just a devoted watcher), but I have to say, I thought the movie was sucktastic. Spoiler alert for the three of you who haven't seen it yet: The moral of the story is that you should totally settle for that dickbag who's been jerking you around for a decade. That's right, even after he stood you up at your wedding and humiliated you in front of all your friends and the society pages of the New York Times. Because let's face it, being with an emotionally bereft, aging cad is far preferable to being -- gasp -- alone! But you're still a feminist as long as you drink fruity cocktails and talk about penises with your girlfriends once a month! See, a girl really can have it all!

The only way I am even considering seeing this sequel, should it indeed rear its ugly head, is if the premise is Carrie's behemoth, ugly divorce from Mr. Big. I want yelling and fighting and throwing of things and a courtroom brawl and water being poured onto an attorney's head. And Miranda better get her damned teeth fixed because them thangs is nasty to look at. Cynthia Nixon, you're an actress for god's sake. You get paid to at least look like you practice basic hygiene. And Charlotte needs a muzzle. And Samantha ... you stay just the way you are, honey. You're pure perfection! But that hump-happy mutt had better chill is all I'm saying.

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