letting the sap slide

My dear friend Sheri and I cannot do movie nights together.  She would want something based on a Nicholas Sparks novel and I would want ...well, how about anything else?

She goes to the theater; says "What a dud", and that's my cue to shuffle off to get my front row ticket.

She loves sap, sap, and more sap.

I say sap is whack!  Oh, I hope I don't ever actually say that out loud...

Basically I'm right, she's wrong.  

...She would boldly say the opposite.

And NO, Jane Austen is not sap.  It's the anti-sap.

So no surprise she called me a liar when I admitted my love for stupid, corniest-of-corny made-for-tv Christmas movies.  ...Any other time of the year I'd rather trim nose hairs than sit through a I'm-gonna-make-you-cry-with-some-bad-acting-and-predictable-plots-and-sick-puppies-and-lame-heroines-who-learn-a-deep-lesson-on-life-while-saving-said-puppy-and-getting-the-hot-guy-with-too-perfect-hair movie.  ...You know the ones.  But there's something about this season that allows terrible movies to amuse me.

(cue picture of Sheri and I shaking hands)

So this is for Sheri-

I'm watching "A Holiday Heist".  

(The acting is horrendous but it is November 29 and I'm shloshy on eggnog so...)

OH!  How can they save Christmas now??!?

And this picture is for Monica,

who also thinks me incapable of enjoying some Christmas sap-

I better keep these tissues close by...

There ladies.  Proof?  I think so.