Normally, an animated film featuring John Travolta and Miley Cyrus would be pretty low in my favor. Unless it's Grease or Pulp Fiction, JT just grimes me out. And yes, I have watched Hannah Montana and yes, I have laughed and sang along. (I also may have asked for my mom to pay off her "Fine, I started smoking again" debt with me by taking me and a friend to the 3D concert-win, win, win, you know? Good times for me, teach my mom a lesson--J. Walter Weatherman was booked, and awkward times for my friend). But MiCy is no Hannah, and now that I don't have access to that jewel of a tv sitcom, Hannah fades from my memory only to be replaced by superslut Miley. That leaves no celebrity induced inclination to see it and while the plot would have enticed me as a child, I stopped thinking I was some sort of Sadie of the Wolves at the age of eight so the dog angle is lost on me. But oh, poor poor boyfriend. The first order of business for our next reunion is to go it. Why you might ask? One simple reason:








