I have  a lot to say about this movie. A LOT.

First, it’s ridiculous that they’re making a fictional movie about a book like What to Expect When You’re Expecting. Seriously, WHAT NEXT? An adaptation of The Mayo Clinic Health Book, where everyone DIES at the end? A thrilling movie based on The Vegetable Gardener’s Bible?  A moving rom-com version of The Secret? (Actually, that one kind of makes sense.) THERE ARE NO CHARACTERS IN THAT BOOK. THAT BOOK IS ABOUT WHAT VEGETABLE YOUR FETUS MOST RESEMBLES IN SIZE. And before you pronounce me a baby-hater: au contraire, friend. I LOVE me some babies. No one is more excited about your pending joyous arrival than I am! No one is more excited to chat up your belly and buy you diaper cream and talk about baby names and change your baby’s diapers and smell their sweet little heads than I am. BABY IT UP. But this is absurd. Leaving aside the fact that the trailer makes me want to kill someone — in short, it’s all Womenz Be Crazy, Men Let Their Babies Eat Cigarette Butts — they SERIOUSLY couldn’t manage to get all these women in the room at the same time for the benefit of this poster? Hola Lovers over there is a shot lifted from outtakes of Maid in Manhattan. Anna Kendrick’s head just got cut out of a scene from Twilight and zapped into someone else’s not-actually-pregnant body, which was then, like, zapped through that window and forced to cower behind a sofa. Elizabeth Banks is currently plotting the bloody gruesome death of whoever approved that  particular shot of her, and I don’t even know who that IS behind Cameron Diaz back there. And my WHOLE JOB is about identifying celebrities by seeing the side of their heads while they run past me at Fashion Week! Leaving aside that one time Heather and I thought we saw Gwyneth Paltrow and it turned out to be a dude, I AM SKILLED AT THIS VERY SPECIFIC THING. And yet I have NO IDEA who that is. Brooklyn Decker? Brooklyn, you need to call someone and talk about this. In fact, everyone needs to call everyone and talk about ALL OF THIS because I have never seen a poster where clearly every single woman was Photoshopped in from something else and that is counting everything that Sex and the City ever touched. (PS: I kind of miss you, Carrie Bradshaw.) STOP THE MADNESS, WHAT TO EXPECT, YOU’RE MAKING MY HEAD HURT.