Every other Friday, resident Marine & entertainment reviewer, Joaquim Harold “Napalm” Jones, Gy. Sgt. USMC (Ret.) , takes a look at the shit flung on screens and out of stereos.
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As you can see we're still getting the bugs out like the clean up crew at "Fear Factor", but nothing gets the platoon moving like someone pulling a pin and yelling, "Fire in the hole". Speaking of which, is Lindsay Lohan a natural Red Head? Anyway unless you are using the Homeric version of the site then you have probably noticed a few things have changed around here. Here at the Phat Phree we have realized something very important about the internet; we should make the users do all the fucking work. Like Wikipedia, MySpace, Fark and countless others, we have realized that the internet simply works better when you, the reader have the power to make the site suck. Which, in turn, takes the burden of work and/or creativity off our backs. So we've created a little system for ranking all users and writers of this website to let our audience determine what is good and what should drink the sweat from John Matuszak's rotting corpse taint. In other words, the writers threatened to strike if they couldn't rate your shitty comments the same way you get to rate their shitty articles.
The system may or may not make the site better, but it should at least help customize the site you to your own crappy taste and sensibility as opposed to someone else's. I have compiled a few tips to help members and writers take full advantage of the new system.
How to win hoes and influence people on the new Phat Phree.
10. -Crunch all you want, we'll make more! As much as we know how left out you'll feel around the water cooler when some other ass hole knows Ethan Albright's stats and you don't, we don't erase articles after the day is over. Now there is a handy dandy function that lets you look back at what ran on a previous day. I look at it this way; if the girl ain't a virgin you might as well just be happy with the fact that the pussy is at least new to you even if some other asshole has thoroughly dissected it first. So if you missed a day and you need some strange, just click a previous day or week under the date on the home page. And for you lazy fucks that have no desire to be one of the tastemakers and just want the cliff notes version of the site you can always just click the best of the week and ingest whatever crap Christine and Tom A voted to the top that week.
9. -Rate shit dumbass. Rate your own comments, rate other people's comments, and write funny posts. This site will make you famous if you fucking deserve it. And only those who write funny shit or piss people off deserve it. Which leads directly to...
8. -Insult people. Head on attacks generate interest from other people and those who think you are winning a battle will give you positive clicks. Kinda like the old Monday Wrestling Wars. Sometimes going head to head is the best thing for both parties involved because it makes the audience care more. Remember, Hulk Hogan drew the biggest numbers of his career when people were throwing sodas at him not when he was babyfacing it up with Cyndi Lauper and Capt Lou.
7. -Tired of shitty comments and spam. Use the shit filter. Not only can you organize comments by newest oldest and highest ranking you can also turn on a filter that will keep comments that have clearly be voted shitty off of your precious LCD. Instead of just ignoring JPM now everyone can vote him back to the stone ages and turn on their shit filters. It's like having that bent coat hanging next to the bowl to breaks up the big logs that you could never flush being built right in to your Kohler 3500.
6. -Vote on the fucking articles! If you don't want crap bubbling up to the top then I highly recommend rating every single article. You don't even have to have a membership to do it. "Son, we live in a world that has walls and those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Whose gonna do it, you?" Damn right you are soldier. Don't let Charlie decide who the next Wad Turdlington is gonnabe. Vote your favorites up to the top and make them the writer of the week. If we know you like them we will gladly force them to write more at gunpoint.
5. -Respect the past. There can be no Sam Elliot without Rollie Fingers. Thanks to the new and improved ratings system you can now enjoy all the best from TPP days of yore very easily. I highly recommend skimming through Hall Of Fame top 100 and checking out some of the sweet shit you might have missed. And if it ain't sweet rate that shit down. If it's still sweet then bump that mother fucker up like George Clinton's back up band before an encore.
4. -Swear a lot and use toilet humor effectively. Everybody loves curse words and talk about their poo poo and pee pee. At least according to how articles are rated around here that's what I'd assume. So if you want high rankings on your comments I recommend going straight to the gutter. Or if that's not your style I suppose you could write something witty, irreverent, sardonic or intelligent, but judging from everyone picking 3-hole on this weeks poll, I'm gonna stick with my previous assessment of potty humor.
3. -The fun never stops. A stroke might slow down Dick Clark but our new message board system can keep those hot button topics alive forever. Want to continue the fun of Charlie vs. Jesse, or start your own thread of cialis spam dedicated to the NFL All-criminal team, or stalk 14 old girls so you can get your 15 minutes of fame on Dateline NBC's next episode of To Catch a Predator? Then the message board is just the place.
2. -Occasionally state how sweet Mike Polk is. This will make casual users of the Phat Phree think you are an aficionado when they begin digging and find articles like "I Guess You'll Do", "I Have A Black Friend"and "Why Can't We Both Be Highlanders?" In the future these casual users that I will now dub Phreebies will click how funny your comments are just for mentioning his name. By the way Mike is fucking hysterical! You should see his Xmas card. I can't believe he got that whole thing in the elf's mouth!
1. -And the number one way to enjoy the new TPP is... read every single one of my columns and click a fucking five so I don't have to hack the system and use your registration information to come to your house and use your colon as a boot polisher.
I'm packing in the Holiday reviews in the inaugural edition of, "Ive been doing this for years where the fuck have you been?" for the new version of the site, because the next time we meet it will either be best of the year time, or you taking your last breath before I give you a Sicilian neck tie for Christmas with my Ka-Bar.
Five Ears for awesome shit that makes me want to fight, fuck or kill!
Four Ears for well above average stuff that gives me a chubby.
Three Ears for well-rounded but average... like a white girl's ass.
Two Ears for subpar material that makes my crotch itch.
One Ear for shit that makes me want to fight, fuck, or kill for the wrong reasons.
An added testicle for shit that is in between.
Does anyone remember Blood Rayne, that Dungeons & Dragons movie, Reign Of Fire or Randy Quaid trying to recapture his Inner Space glory days in Dragonheart? Didn't think so. The fantasy genre has long been a great way to use 40 or 50 million dollars as kindling. But did The Corsican Brothers dissuade anyone from making two Pirates of The Caribbean or Zorro movies? Nope. And so it begins, the era of LOTR and Harry Potter clones. Surprisingly I don't necessarily think it's a bad thing either. I thought Narnia was at least entertaining and the effects in Eragon are certainly worth seeing on the big screen.
Plus good aging actors need to be in these kind of movies so that the next generation of bedwetters knows who they are. You can't expect 14-year-olds to know anything about Jeremy Irons in Dead Ringers or Die Hard With A Vengeance or to know that John Malkovich got to bang Uma Thurman in Dangerous Liaisons a full ten years before Teddy KGB ever asked, "Do you want a cookie?" I would have never discovered Laurence Olivier were it not for Clash Of The Titans, or a pre "Deadwood" or "Simon and Simon" Gerald McRainy in The Never Ending Story, or Jennifer Connelly's boobs in Labyrinth. The crappy fantasy movie is a necessary staple of Hollywood to refresh the common knowledge of what the next generation can expect. Harry Potter brought the big guns like Richard Harris and Kenneth Branagh. LOTR gave us solid players like Andy Sirkis and revived Goonie, Sean Astin just in time for him to destroy all his acting cred with a recurring "24" bit. And Jumangi gave us our first glimpse of the sprouting Kirsten Dunst. So then take this little tale of dragon riding and magic battles for exactly what it is worth, a vehicle to propel it's stars and a spectacle of present day special effects, because by next year this movie will hold up worse than Jason and The Argonauts on Blu Ray.
Well I don't know or really even care if Mel hates Jews or not but I am pretty damn sure that the Holocaust was only about a tenth as violent as this bizarre trip down National Geographic lane. I'm guessing the thought of a myriad of heads rolling down the temple steps and the subsequent heap of headless bodies that Mel envisioned for this film might just have been what drove him to drinking in the first place. I'm beginning to think Mel playing LAPD in the Lethal Weapon series wasn't a stretch at all. Let's see, racist - check, violent - check, hazing pranks - check, deeply psychotic - check. Fuck, let's give him a badge. Mel took shit for the amount of violence in both Braveheart and The Passion and there he was confined to what realistically or at least mythologically happened depending on what camp you belong to on the historical issues of those subjects. But Apocalypto sends a giant fuck you of gore to the Sam Peckinpaw and Quentin Tarrantino's of the world. His own brain conjured these images, not some text book. I understand that this movie is a metaphor for the entropy of modern society set against the Mayan backdrop, but the average viewer might honestly miss that without the convenient Mel narration that the last batch of trailers has delivered. But don't expect to understand the juxtaposition Mel is going for while you are in the theater. What the average viewer will receive is mostly a homophobic, psychotic, sadomasochistic journey into a blood soaked violent world of... well, subtitles. That's right. It's like "Reading Rainbow" meets Faces Of Death. Take a look; it's in a book, a reading rainbow coalition of minorities being mowed down by a drunk driver of film on the PCH.
The title may have it right, but the previews have been misleading in my opinion, so let me attempt to shed some light on what your donation to the greatest neo-Nazi auteur of our time will actually get you. And please bare with me if some of this is slightly inaccurate because I don't normally take my reading glasses with me to the local Cineplex nor do I bother to check my facts before I rant about a man's affiliation with racist fascism. So, first off some jungle dudes (for lack of a politically correct terminology that is sufficiently shorter than indigenous peoples of the currently titled continent of South American), including our young hero Jaguar Paw, brutally hunt down and kill some animal in the jungle. Then one of Jaguar Paw's co-jungle dudes has to eat its balls to give his own swimmers enough uphill steam to knock up his feathered female with his prostate punch. That somehow turns into some homoerotic, yet homophobic man play reminiscent of a Jackass prank having testicle difficulties. Basically it's kinda like watching a Goldust versus Norman Smiley wrestling match; you know it's gay but you are hoping for the Umaga run-in where everyone gets squashed like a grape. Well, Mel knew that's what you wanted, so he obliges in every way. The peaceful testicle eating village is completely decimated by some big city Mayans who have apparently seen Deathstalker 3 too many times. Only a few survive namely our hero Jaguar Paw who has managed to stash his wife and kid away, but has not evaded capture himself. What ensues basically plays out like the all-violence / all -the-time version of Caligula as the Mayan captors decide their new pets will make great headless sacrifices to the gods. Of course our hero, Jaguar Paw (which becomes increasingly more fun to say after you add the appropriate British accent like the car commercials) of course escapes and tries to rescue his family in what amounts to the third act basically being "The Most Dangerous Game".
In the end I think my own prurient desires may in fact be my undoing in trying to judge this film. Whereas I walked out of the theater in stunned silence after Borat feeling like I had just heard De La Soul '3 Feet High and Rising' for the first time and knew I had just witnessed some kind of brilliance; I walked out of Apocalypto feeling like I had just heard King Diamond 'Abigail' for the first time. Yeah I liked it for its sick twisted story telling, but were there too many voices shrieking in horror to clearly hear the message behind that story. For those who would not kill an animal and then eat its balls for virility or decapitate unsuspecting idiots just to appease the gods, this movie may not the warm hearted Titanic-esque holiday fare you were looking for. Personally, I think in the end I really liked it, but I may in fact be the true sign of the fall of civilization. Because, like Mel, something about the dark nature of man pushed too far entertains the shit out of me. I wonder if the LAPD is taking applications?
Wow, I totally thought this was a screening for the next Vivid lesbian series. But to my dismay Felicia, Jenna Haze and Stefanie Swift's glistening sparkle lube covered bodies were nowhere to be found. Instead I got Eddie Murphy singing and Jamie Foxx trying to be serious. "Party All The Time" and Stealth are not exactly the pre-requisites in those categories to make me believe these guys are the right men for the job, though I will admit that Foxx was pretty decent in Collateral and Ray and Eddie Murphy did sing his way out jail with "Roxanne" and almost made me want to actually buy Buckwheat's Greatest Hits and a hot tub. But, (and I can't believe I'm gonna say this) Beyonce "Jay-Z was too ugly to be my boyfriend in public" Knowles steals the fucking show like Winona Ryder at the swap meet. God I feel queasy. Mostly because I fucking hate her. Sure I'd love to saddle that mare like a pony at a petting zoo, but she fucking knows it. It's written all over her face. She walks around with that "I've got talent and ass" look on her face all day that just makes me want to Michael Myers that heffalump (I mean the killer not her hacky Canadian Austin Powers co-star) or at least throw her down a well and get her to put the fucking lotion in the basket. I was really hoping for the reality show ending to Beyonce's acting career. You know the one where she gets all Melrose in "Top Model" thinking that just because she has made it to the end that she is gonna win only to get the ultimate rejection of being told, yeah you stuck around and did five times as much work as everyone else only to find out you�re still a loser in the end. Shit that happened twice to that crazy New York chick on "Flavor of Love". All I'm asking is for Beyonce to get hers just one time.
She used the shit out of those other girls to get ahead singing and what did she get? A multiplatinum solo album. They got footnotes on "Pop-up Videos". She milked the shit out of her secret romance with Jay-Z and dumped him. She still got the street cred. He got 4 million dollars poorer sitting on his ass not making records while he tried to keep her happy. And now she gets to basically play Dianna Ross and re-live all her screw jobs on the big screen. She's gonna get an Oscar nominated film that will probably win best song or costume or something, while the real Dianna Ross is gonna get laryngitis from refusing to watch the movie because Beyonce is not nearly as Ally McBeal as she was in the seventies. So I guess I'll have to wait for there to be a movie about Destiny's Child for Beyonce to get hers like Diana is getting it now. This is why I feel like she steals the show, she really is the same chick. It's like Courtney Love playing a junkie slut, she's living the part so she's got the shit down. Sure everyone thinks they want to root for the big girl, Effie, who gets pushed out of the spotlight for the more white palatable Deena (Beyonce as Dianna). But in the end beauty and spectacle always win out over talent in the music industry or else Jessica Simpson would be in Hustler not Virgin Megastores.
Lo and behold this is Walk The Line 2006, a story of sex, payola, and songs leading to the inevitably forced happy fucking ending. Kind of like when you have paid the extra 30 already at the massage parlor, but the chick has man hands. Her calluses felt great getting the knots out of your back, but now with those rough edges that can't be smoothed out in time wrapped around your throbbing Johnny all you can do is hope that the only ending possible happens as you can humanly muster. So too ends Dreamgirls. After all the fighting, backstabbing and group stealing, in the end everybody sings a motherfucking song and goes home with a feel good smile on their face. Too bad they didn't stick to the real life script of the Supremes, because we all know that catty bitches do not kiss and make up for one last show in real life. The real Supremes went on to be a shitty actress with a bad perm, an alcoholic and a mediocre tell all book writer respectively. Berry Gordy is the real life hero because he is the one who walked away with all the cash and his dignity in tact. Until of course he spent his money trying to make Rockwell a star, but that is a story worthy of its own feature film.
Sylvester Stallone versus Antonio Tarver in what? Checkers? What made Rocky good was the realism that the underdog white man's best hope in boxing is to put up enough of a fight to go the distance so the house doesn't lose it's shirt on the under 12 rounds props. Apollo Creed beats the white boy, but whitey gets his moral victory. There is no sequel. No comeback, no championship belt. No prizefight with some eastern European killing machine. And for Christ's sake no Tommy Morrison. His real life career was worse than the first Rocky so how did he even get his name near a Rocky movie. But this final plot is just ridiculous. First of all a fictional Rocky at his prime would not beat Antonio Tarver even in a video game simulation. At 5'8' and 170 pounds with a 66' reach, Stallone in his prime would be unconscious if a drop of Tarver's sweat touched him. Even giving Tarver's movie persona the stupidest name in cinema history, Mason "The Line" Dixon, still does not dissuade even the casual boxing fan from knowing that a 60 year old man will not even make a showing of getting in the ring with a 6'2" Light Heavyweight champion with a 75" reach. And if that same 60 year old man is a white guy, then he better be the referee if he's getting in that ring. Shit even Judge Mills Lane (USMC, Ret) took off the zebra shirt at 62 for fear that some hulking black man might accidentally catch him in the grill one time. And that old grumpy jarhead is five times tougher than any character a washed up porn actor like Stallon could dream up. Let's face it, they could have cut together a montage of Stallone working out to "Eye OF The Tiger" for the next season of "The Contender" and just left it at that because your ten bucks basically buys you Sylvester Stallone in a sweat suit running some stairs before some more ridiculous shit happens. I won't ruin the end for you because I didn't stay long enough to find out if he wins loses or dies in the ring like he should. Every moment of this movie's existence is a waste of valuable electricity and dammit I am an environmentalist. Reality check please!
Next Time in Soapchips and Gasoline, Napalm recalls his childhood upbringing as po black octoroon growing up in Louisiana or if you are lucky just his annual year in review.
1. If Christopher Walken, John Malkovich, Yahoo Serious, Bill Murray, Jeremy Irons and Chevy Chase were all playing one of their famous characters and were locked in battle until the death who would win and why? Personally I think if Chevy Chase used his Voodoo powers from Modern Problems with the "Yo Mamma" that vanquished Nell Carter he would clearly destroy his opponents.
2. If you could get Charlie DeMarco to stop smoking long enough to give you one present for Xmas what would it be? Jews, Muslims, Wiccans, Navahos, Buddists, and poor people who ignore Xmas can just pretend it's their birthday or something and answer the fucking question anyway.
3. I know I said Britney's Buffalo Gums would be the last Napalm sponsored "caption this" but since that section on the site won't roll out until next week or maybe later in the month I figured I'd squeeze one more in for you guys so you could juice you user stats with some witty comments. (By the way, as many of you have figure, the feature to include pictures yourself in your comments isn't quite ready yet but Charlie assures me it'll be coming soon.) So until you can post your own or we get the section up and running... Caption This!
Posts: 5 Rank: 1995 Joined:
12/7/2006
Location:
Dorchester, MA
Posted: 12/8/2006 8:11:27 AM
Steve Tyler (left) & Matt Birk (right), co-founders of the "Retirement Home for Chubby & Broken Down Whores", seen here with two of the inaugural residents.
Posts: 16 Rank: 95 Joined:
10/21/2005
Location:
Encino, CA
Posted: 12/8/2006 8:20:57 AM
1. Bill Murray would win because he would cross the streams with his own jizz and urine and send those Stay Puft wannabes packing.
2. If I could get one thing from Charlie for Xmas it would either be a raise or a lesson from him on how to smoke an entire cigarette without ashing once and never losing any of it. You have to see it to believe it.
3. Dude in the white says, "Fine, honkies. You can have them nasty bitches. But don't say shit when I come to your sisters wedding and get freaky with your cousins."
Posts: 1375 Rank: 10 Joined:
12/7/2006
Location:
savannah, GA
Posted: 12/8/2006 11:07:31 AM
i've always wanted to say this to a crusty, forced into office work, SNCO...."FUCK YOU". who holds 3 of the 4 titles in the heavy weight division? i'll give you a hint, all 3 of their names ryhme with "STALIN". that's right salty, 3 white guys, well 2 white guys and a white skinned frakenstein monster. and i will give kudos to brewster for landing his "hail mary" to win a fight that he was clearly losing up to that point, but give me a break, the heavy weight division as a whole sucks ass, so let's not give credit to the "hulking black men" for being big shitty fighters. in all honesty, you cannot disagree that the Latino's are without a doubt, the world's best boxers.
1. i have to agree, walken in the prophecy, or as frank white from king of new york 2. i would want joe k's heart and liver, prepared with a spicey cilantro and javanero seasoning, set on a nice white rice pilaf, with stewed tomatoes, and a glass of sweet tea. (but only after joe k was done using said organs, as i would not want him to be harmed in any way during the removal process) 3. "Joe Francis recently seen prepping for the upcoming dvd, 'Girls Gone Wild: Madis Gras, Post-Katrina'"
oh, and, as always, great fucking article, i MUST see Apocalypto now.
Napalm's reviews are only going to be every other Friday? Only if his weekly column is being replaced by BDC performing various sex acts on me is this a good thing. This is also my answer for number 2.
the site keeps getting older - napalm keeps staying the same age...
()
Post #: 8
Posts: 1055 Rank: 12 Joined:
12/7/2006
Location:
two up two down, VA
Posted: 12/8/2006 11:35:28 AM
solid reviews.
i heard that stallone (after rocky 2) stepped into the ring with his trainer (against the trainer's recommendation) because he thought "he could go a couple rounds" and got punched in the stomach one time and vomited.
Q&A 1. chevy chase as ty webb from caddyshack would win because he is "born to lick your face" 2. picture posting in the comments that help to target.observe.ridicule. 3. joe francis and other douche on the set of "girls gone wild: hotlanta"
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Does anyone remember Blood Rayne, that Dungeons & Dragons movie, Reign Of Fire or Randy Quaid trying to recapture his Inner Space glory days in Dragonheart? Didn't think so. The fantasy genre has long been a great way to use 40 or 50 million dollars as kindling. But did The Corsican Brothers dissuade anyone from making two Pirates of The Caribbean or Zorro movies? Nope. And so it begins, the era of LOTR and Harry Potter clones. Surprisingly I don't necessarily think it's a bad thing either. I thought Narnia was at least entertaining and the effects in Eragon are certainly worth seeing on the big screen. 
Well I don't know or really even care if Mel hates Jews or not but I am pretty damn sure that the Holocaust was only about a tenth as violent as this bizarre trip down National Geographic lane. I'm guessing the thought of a myriad of heads rolling down the temple steps and the subsequent heap of headless bodies that Mel envisioned for this film might just have been what drove him to drinking in the first place. I'm beginning to think Mel playing LAPD in the Lethal Weapon series wasn't a stretch at all. Let's see, racist - check, violent - check, hazing pranks - check, deeply psychotic - check. Fuck, let's give him a badge. Mel took shit for the amount of violence in both Braveheart and The Passion and there he was confined to what realistically or at least mythologically happened depending on what camp you belong to on the historical issues of those subjects. But Apocalypto sends a giant fuck you of gore to the Sam Peckinpaw and Quentin Tarrantino's of the world. His own brain conjured these images, not some text book. I understand that this movie is a metaphor for the entropy of modern society set against the Mayan backdrop, but the average viewer might honestly miss that without the convenient Mel narration that the last batch of trailers has delivered. But don't expect to understand the juxtaposition Mel is going for while you are in the theater. What the average viewer will receive is mostly a homophobic, psychotic, sadomasochistic journey into a blood soaked violent world of... well, subtitles. That's right. It's like "Reading Rainbow" meets Faces Of Death. Take a look; it's in a book, a reading rainbow coalition of minorities being mowed down by a drunk driver of film on the PCH.
Wow, I totally thought this was a screening for the next Vivid lesbian series. But to my dismay Felicia, Jenna Haze and Stefanie Swift's glistening sparkle lube covered bodies were nowhere to be found. Instead I got Eddie Murphy singing and Jamie Foxx trying to be serious. "Party All The Time" and Stealth are not exactly the pre-requisites in those categories to make me believe these guys are the right men for the job, though I will admit that Foxx was pretty decent in Collateral and Ray and Eddie Murphy did sing his way out jail with "Roxanne" and almost made me want to actually buy Buckwheat's Greatest Hits and a hot tub. But, (and I can't believe I'm gonna say this) Beyonce "Jay-Z was too ugly to be my boyfriend in public" Knowles steals the fucking show like Winona Ryder at the swap meet. God I feel queasy. Mostly because I fucking hate her. Sure I'd love to saddle that mare like a pony at a petting zoo, but she fucking knows it. It's written all over her face. She walks around with that "I've got talent and ass" look on her face all day that just makes me want to Michael Myers that heffalump (I mean the killer not her hacky Canadian Austin Powers co-star) or at least throw her down a well and get her to put the fucking lotion in the basket. I was really hoping for the reality show ending to Beyonce's acting career. You know the one where she gets all Melrose in "Top Model" thinking that just because she has made it to the end that she is gonna win only to get the ultimate rejection of being told, yeah you stuck around and did five times as much work as everyone else only to find out you�re still a loser in the end. Shit that happened twice to that crazy New York chick on "Flavor of Love". All I'm asking is for Beyonce to get hers just one time. 
Sylvester Stallone versus Antonio Tarver in what? Checkers? What made Rocky good was the realism that the underdog white man's best hope in boxing is to put up enough of a fight to go the distance so the house doesn't lose it's shirt on the under 12 rounds props. Apollo Creed beats the white boy, but whitey gets his moral victory. There is no sequel. No comeback, no championship belt. No prizefight with some eastern European killing machine. And for Christ's sake no Tommy Morrison. His real life career was worse than the first Rocky so how did he even get his name near a Rocky movie. But this final plot is just ridiculous. First of all a fictional Rocky at his prime would not beat Antonio Tarver even in a video game simulation. At 5'8' and 170 pounds with a 66' reach, Stallone in his prime would be unconscious if a drop of Tarver's sweat touched him. Even giving Tarver's movie persona the stupidest name in cinema history, Mason "The Line" Dixon, still does not dissuade even the casual boxing fan from knowing that a 60 year old man will not even make a showing of getting in the ring with a 6'2" Light Heavyweight champion with a 75" reach. And if that same 60 year old man is a white guy, then he better be the referee if he's getting in that ring. Shit even Judge Mills Lane (USMC, Ret) took off the zebra shirt at 62 for fear that some hulking black man might accidentally catch him in the grill one time. And that old grumpy jarhead is five times tougher than any character a washed up porn actor like Stallon could dream up. Let's face it, they could have cut together a montage of Stallone working out to "Eye OF The Tiger" for the next season of "The Contender" and just left it at that because your ten bucks basically buys you Sylvester Stallone in a sweat suit running some stairs before some more ridiculous shit happens. I won't ruin the end for you because I didn't stay long enough to find out if he wins loses or dies in the ring like he should. Every moment of this movie's existence is a waste of valuable electricity and dammit I am an environmentalist. Reality check please!
