The Bad Review Revue

Johnson Family Vacation: “If laughs are the currency of any comedy, this one pays minimum wage.” — Rick Groen, GLOBE AND MAIL

Connie and Carla: “Vardalos’s movies aren’t written as much as up-chucked, the result of all-night binges on SnackWells and Oxygen network reruns.” — David Ng, VILLAGE VOICE

The Punisher: “The ad for it claims, ‘The Punishment Begins April 16’. And boy, does it.” — Eleanor Ringel Gillespie, ATLANTA JOURNAL-CONSTITUTION

Man On Fire: “Suffers from the editing-room equivalent of an irritable bowel.” — Wesley Morris, BOSTON GLOBE (thanks, boss)

13 Going On 30: “So basically, as you could probably gather on your own, this movie is dumb, dull, and lacking any sort of charm. And besides that, the stupid promo package that the movie people sent contained ‘wishing dust,’ which got all over my desk. Fucking glitter.” — Megan Seling, THE STRANGER


The Squirrelly had his two-month check-up today. (I know! Two months! It seems like only yesterday he was 59 days old…) He’s as healthy as a, uh, healthy as a hornet’s nest, or whatever the clich

Eritrea To Withdraw Troop From Iraq

The Coalition of the Willing suffered another blow today as Eritrea announced its decision to disengage from Iraq and withdraw its troop, rifleman Yosuf Abdulkadir. "Awesome!" Abdulkadir said when he heard the news. "Maybe I'll get back in time to see Kill Bill 2 in the theater!" Bulgaria's three soldiers, however, said they would be sorry to see Abdulkadir go. "He was so lonely when he first got here, we kind of adopted him as one of our own," explained Nikolay Stoyanov, adding, "I don't know how we're going to play euchre now." As part of its disengagement, Eritrea said it will also stop sending the White House photocopied "How To" articles from War Waging Monthly.

Dear Me

Dear Journalists: Please stop describing each and every confluence of events as a perfect storm. I think we’re pretty much done with that. And don’t get tricky by putting ‘perfect storm’ in scare quotes or by calling it a so-called perfect storm, because we all know that’s just secret code for “couldn’t come up with my own analogy.”

Also! Dear TV Sitcom Commercial Writers: I’m pretty sure that “putting the fun into dysfunctional!” joke has been made before. Sorry.

Likewise! Dear TV Drama Commercial Writers: Your assertions notwithstanding, there probably are some things that could adequately prepare me for the shocking finale.

In conclusion! Dear everyone on Earth: Stop scuffing your feet when you walk, fercrissakes. What are you, seven?

Our Father, Who Art On CD

I spent the weekend listening to the 16 CD James Earl Jones Reads the Bible Deluxe Edition. What a disappointment. Nineteen straight hours of almost complete silence, occasionally punctuated by the soft rustle of Jones turning a page.


There are really no words to describe the overwhelming sense of pride a father feels the first time he sees his child shit all the way across a room.

I’ve been boasting about this for a week. “Okay, so imagine our table is the changing station,” I told one friend over lunch in a restaurant. “So the baby is here, right? And that dessert cart, the one way over there, is like the bedroom wall. And he pooped on it! It was awesome.”

The Squirrelly has also discovered the ability to shriek. His interest in shrieking seems mostly academic at this point: he’s just, like, “Wow hey: there’s, like, two whole octaves up there that I haven’t even explored!” Still, it’s always unnerving when he goes from “fast asleep” to “carbon monoxide alarm” in under a second. He doesn’t do it often, thank goodness, and even when he does it seems to be in a “I just wanted to remind you that I know how to do this, and if I ever go colicky you are going to be miserable” kind of way. He’s like a little North Korea, flaunting his nuclear capacity.