Siskel and Roper Gave it "the Finger"

My friend Skip and I were swilling a couple of wobbly pops Tuesday night when some goofy comedy came on. It was some POS called Without a Paddle and, despite increasing crapitude as the film progressed, we watched the whole thing. There was enough comic genius thrown in to warrant one sitting, but that's about it.

About halfway through the 'film', Skip laments, "They don't make movies like they used to... Like Easy Money..."

I begged to differ. I said, "Yeah they do, Skip. It's just not about us anymore. In a few years all the little f*ckers you see around us are going to say, 'They don't make movies like American Pie anymore.'"

Every once in a while you have to sit down, crack open the cranium, plop the grey matter down on the mantel and sit down for some crappy Hollywood viewin'. There's a goddamned crapload of it, that's for sure. I usually reach for the comedies, since they lend themselves to mindlessness.

Joe Wack of Hairshirt fame hosts this week's . In an ode to Cliffhanger, the Sly Stallone vehicle that he considers the "Sh*ttiest Film of All Time," he invites you to pay homage to what you consider the worst movie ever - so crappy that you watch it over and over again and mire in its grandiose crapulence.

So what is it? Beaches? Red Dawn? Youngblood? Boys on the Side? It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World? Hangar 18? My brother still breathes fire about that one.

Get your tickets, walk over to the snack bar and make your way up the sticky aisle of Hairshirt Cineplex. Boo and hiss to your heart's content.