A few nights ago, in between Dungeons and Dragons on Wednesday, and Tomb Raider on Friday (so, in fact, on Thursday), we saw Thief of Baghdad, a sort of muck-up of the Aladdin story into an adventure movie. It had 6 directors. It had Djinns and flying carpets (only one of each, actually) and menacing octupi. There aren't enough menacing octupi in today's movies.

It also had a limp, blonde, insipid, British-supposed-to-be-Persian hero called Ahmed. He got turned blind by the evil, posturing, not-as-much-fun-as-Jeremy-Irons bad guy. He whinged all the time. Well, half the time. The other half he was mooning over the love interest, who showed off quite a risque amount of cleavage for a 1950s movie. And she got groped a couple of times, I imagine by accident. But anyway, when his sight is restored, he chucks a hissy fit, because 'what good is sight if I can't see her??'. And he chucks his stick into the sea. At this point the Male whispers in my ear: "Go on, have a whinge." We'd been MST3King the whole movie.

Henceforth, chucking the sads will be referred to as 'throwing your stick in the water'.