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The Intro – Typically this only requires waking up. Usually, without much effort some asshole senator who hates gay people will play footsies with another grown ass man in a bathroom stall before I can even get through my 3 S's (That would be a shit, shower and shave for those of you not accustomed to a daily regimen. Your average latrine may not be the first thing you want to think about in the morning, but dropping your brown babies off at the pool at 0500 certainly beats having to dump in your helmet while in the middle of a 20 click march uphill. Nuff said.). Normally some idiot takes a Michael Richards all over his own life and all I typically need to do is point it out along with some obvious clues why the aforementioned douche of the day should toe fuck himself to death in the ear. Example: Tonight on 20/20, the newsmagazine program features a shocking story that exposes… wait for it… another newsmagazine show. Yep 20/20 is doing a special piece that should be called "To Catch A Competitor!" The startling expose proves that dateline NBC's "To Catch A Predator" was really just for entertainment because none of the convictions stood and one guy even killed himself when they tried to ensnare him. With the 12 hours of newsmagazine shows on a week it's getting to the point that I hardly need the 14 hours of procedural dramas that follow them (Law and Order: Special NAMBLA Unit, CSI: Gary, IN and NCIS – the show where every criminal should kill themselves because they got caught by a bunch of gay sailors). Once the intro is done and the day's turd burglar has been appropriately lambasted then it's time to pick some stuff to review. Movies – First off you have to figure out what to see and how to see it. I typically like to see movies with either breasts, guns, or funny jokes. Though I don't mind mixing my breasts and guns, or my jokes and breasts, typically mixing my jokes and guns only leads to catastrophes like Hollywood Homicide or anything directed by Bret Ratner. Once a new theatrical release has been selected the problem becomes that most screenings are reserved for "real" press, which typically leaves me three choices. 1). Ask Charlie to stop choking down cigarettes long enough to request a press pass on behalf on of our little publication… The Onion. If they asked why we've changed our mailing address to a PO Box in Culver City, proceed immediately to step two. 2). Pretend I am Brenda Della Casa. She is well liked and respected in a certain 3 block radius of Manhattan near Lex and 72 right by Burger One. If the movie is playing at one of those 2 theaters then we are good to go. If that doesn't work there is always step three. 3). Break out the yarmulke. Any old beanie will do, but why not use the genuine article. Crashing a barmitzvah is easy, plus you get free food. Just don't forget to swipe Uncle Harel's kippah when he starts bobbing for apples in the Manishevitz. Once you don what I like to call Daddy's Magic Skull cap, all you have to do is show up at a premiere or screening and say that you are Bill Weinstein's new assistant at Endeavor and if you don't get inside to give him the blackberry he left at the office then you are going to have to be the guy who gives Joe Rogan his colonic before he meets with his agent. Then start talking about how Rogan once nervously sharted himself in front of all the Spike TV and Zuffa brass when his UFC contract was up for renewal and how he now insists on being "cleared" out before any meetings. If you still aren't inside tell them about the secluded room where Rogan is storing his "treaments" for that special reunion episode of Fear Factor where stunt number 2 involves doing stunts in number 2. Then you can sit down and enjoy the film. At least that is what I used to do. These days I just hit up Isohunt.com a download a shitty torrent that typically features that back of some assholes head as much as it does the cast. I couldn't believe that maggot who stood up in the middle of The Departed. I didn't know it was Sheen who took the dumpster dive until I finally saw the movie on Cinemax a few weeks ago. But we all have to suffer for our art. And yet, in some cases none of the above is necessary. I'm pretty sure any monkey that is smart enough to fling its own poo can do a review of Stealth without seeing the movie too. TV – The most important question you need to ask yourself here is what are the chances of seeing boobs. Shows like "Rome", "The Sopranos", "Dexter", "Californication" and even "the L Word" typically receive high marks because they have tits in them. If you are going to waste 10 to 22 hours of your life on a show in one year you'll at least want the ability to freeze frame once or twice and squeeze off some of your milky throat coat to a couple of Bada Bing babes. If not the show better be damn good like "The Shield", "Rescue Me", "Its Always Sunny" or something that at least comes with a TVMA for language or violence. DVD – This is where you can really show off the big guns. If it's coming out on DVD that typically means people have either seen it already or could give a flying fistfuck about ever seeing it. Now the real work begins. If everyone has seen the film that means you duty as a reviewer is to point out what they might have missed that is worth seeing again. EX: Love Song For Bobby Long was really just another reason to want to flush Quentin's coke supply for having resurrected John Travolta's career, but here on the small screen Travolta's presence becomes meaningless when you have the ability to freeze frame Scarlett "Boing" Johansson's malleable mommy mound as it hangs effortlessly to the side in the oh too brief seconds when she is quickly toweling off on the tub. The moment makes Helen "kuh" Hunt's As Good As It Gets scene feel more like Harvey Keitel's routine traffic stop in Bad Lieutenant. Music – If you hear anything that doesn't sound like flossing your teeth with 40 grit Scotch Brite let me know. Most days I'm over the whole sound/hearing thing. The Rating – This part is pretty easy. 9 times out of 10 the movie, show, book or song sucked a wet fart out of my ass. So you won't have to chop off too many ears or testicles to rate most entertainment. Here's an easy formula to help you. If you have five friends that watch say, Talladega Nights, how many of them would laugh at the Walker/Texas Ranger joke even after they had seen it 300 hundred times in the commercial before the movie even came out? Then subtract that number from five and you have your rating. Then find those friends that laughed and drive the bridge of their noses into their frontal lobes with a tennis ball. The Actual Review - Pretty easy formula here. It's kinda like Madlibs. You take a basic concept of how shitty the movie was and then just fill in the blanks. It's simple. Let's try one. Watching (overpaid actor) is like (riculous metaphor). I would rather (verb) (hot starlet's name with fake nickname inserted) with (any male comenter's) (penile euphemism) than see (overpaid actor) (verb) her on film. And if you don't agree with that I will (describe an overtly violent way to kill another person without using an actual weapon). (Descriptive alliteration)(obscure pop culture reference)(curse word). (Offensive religious slander), I have never wanted to (wild card- insert any activity of your choice) so much in my life. But since I can't, I guess I will have to wait for the sequel and hope that (insert shitty director) learns how to light (hot starlet's)(vaginal euphemism) so that I don't just see (overpaid actor's) (adjective) (body part) (verb-ing) her (body part) for five whole minutes. I could've stayed at home a watched (80's tv show) and seen better (body part) than that. Do a couple of those in the entertainment genre of your choice, ask some questions to get the readers' juices flowing for the day, find a picture on the internet that has a high "what the fuck" factor, and your very own Napalm Review column is done. But since you don't get paid to write this column let me finish my job for you. Flip the page for this week's reviews. @@PageBreak@@ Shit I just realized I don't get paid for this either. But I had already written these, so consider yourselves lucky.
     Kevin Bacon is trying to channel Charles Bronson in the worst revenge movie since Make Them Die Slowly? Why? Because the guy who made Saw said so. And in the movie world that is the equivalent Google Fuck You Money. But honestly in spite of whatever James Wan did to help Carey Elwes live down Robin Hood: Men In Tights, this flick is worse than a Michael Dudikoff ninja movie. The gratuitous violence is so plotless, even I have trouble watching it. The sad thing is that Death Sentence might have been a good idea if it actually harnessed the raw revenge goodness of the original Bronson classic. But instead it falls nearer to the realm of the unintentionally hilarious Death Wish 5: The Face Of Death. In fact this movie might be more along the lines of Trancers 6: Life After Deth than any self respecting homage. However, I thought for sure I was saved when I heard that Jodie Foster also had a revenge movie coming out. I couldn't help but think "Damn, it's about time they made a sequel to The Accused". But I was just as wrong as when I thought Flowers in The Attic was the sequel to The Diary Of Anne Frank. But unlike the Wan/Bacon bloodfest, at least The Brave One is an actual film. Jodie "Chickapea" Foster slowly loses her shit after that Sayid guy from "Lost" gets killed (In the movie not on the show, because if they kill Sayid, I'll be pretty pissed, but not as pissed as if they kill off anymore hot chicks). And speaking of sequels that don't exist yet, when is there gonna be another Pootie Tang movie? Jodie Foster could even be in it. Pootie 2: Nell's Revenge. "I'm gonna sibbetow on yo chickapow. Can't wait to see that one. What was I saying? Oh yeah, so Foster decides to start "protecting" herself by luring in the seedy types and busting a cap in their asses after her brown sugar daddy bites it. Until, Terrence Howard comes along and threatens to "whoop that trick", by tracking down the city's new underground icon vigilante. What frightens me about this movie is not a woman on a self exploration of her inner violence,  but how scary it is to see a person that is the spitting image of Lenny Kravitz crossed with Lisa Bonet. Look carefully at the picture and tell me Zoe Kravitz doesn't make you slightly queasy and bizarrely fascinated at the same time. I keep hearing "Mr. Cab Driver" in my head while images flash across my eyes of Mocha Huxtable's bare breast being cover in chicken blood. Regardless Death Sentence scores a negative 2 and The Brave One gets about a 3 ½ which added together gets you the classic 1 severed ear and a testicle rating.  After making Halle Berry "feel good", I guess Billy Bob Thornton is one of the few guys I can accept being called "woodcock" but that's about where the fun stops. Did anyone laugh once during Pushing Tin? Did anyone even see School For Scoundrels? A picture of Jesus giving head to Matthew is less offensive than the script for Bandits. Yet Billy Bob Thornton keeps making comedies. He played a great retard once and even a decent President, but his comedies suck like a Flowbee. At least I half heartedly chuckled at Stiffler, and I never sent back the copy of Dude Where's My Car that Columbia House sent me because you never know when an eighth of the hindu kush might subliminally force you to watch it. So, basically I can accept Sean William Scott in another crappy comedy. But Billy Bob needs to get over being dumped by the female Jonathan Rhys Meyers and start making serious movies again. This evil gym teacher dating your mom shtick is tired. It's Bad Santa with tube socks. I'd ride shotgun with Nick Bollea if it would keep me form ever having to see Thorton in another comedy.   I love sex on tv as much as the next guy, but I prefer mine to be in the Jenna Haze / Taylor Rain variety of pretty nineteen year olds who keep asking to be violated in the cutest way. Also known as a fantasy. I know what you're thinking. Those chicks aren't nineteen anymore. Well thanks to the magic of video and our friends over at qmov.com, they will always be nineteen when I need them to be. And in my mind I'm still nineteen too, just back from my first tour ready to fuck anything that doesn't look like a red handkerchief or a Thai hooker. What I don't want to see on my tv however, is the same kind of hairy ass crack, whining girlfriend, roll over, fart and go to sleep kind of sex that I can get at home. Everything about this show is just too real. Psycho fiancé starts a fight because she thinks he'll cheat on her just because he said that other women besides her are attractive. Husband waits until his wife gets in the shower to rub his jiz kit into a Puffs palace. Wife talks shit to therapist behind husband's back and sends husband the bill. Wife gives husband a handjob while watching boxing. Okay wait that last one should fall definitely fall into the fantasy category. But with no music, flapping ball sacks, and chafingly dry palm on skin sounds, that scene just like all the others falls right back into the too realistic realm. Maybe old women do give their husband's wrinkled popes the twist during a bj, but I'm pretty sure I don't want to see it. I like my filmed fucking to stay in the Grand Theft Anal ball park, not a tv show that is more suited to health class as a sex education video. If I want reality I'll just go watch another episode of "Scott Baio Is 45...and Single" not an hour long HBO drama. Sadly I still have to give the show at least a halfway decent rating because every single character got naked. Which also means I'll probably watch the show again next week too. I can't help it. I am a sucker for areola.  1. Take the Napalm 101 test and fill in the blanks in the review from the intro. Here it is again for you lazy troglodytes who don't want to click the back button to cut and paste. Watching (overpaid actor) is like (riculous metaphor). I would rather (verb) (hot starlet's name with fake nickname inserted) with (any male comenter's) (penile euphemism) than see (overpaid actor) (verb) her on film. And if you don't agree with that I will (describe an overtly violent way to kill another person without using an actual weapon). (Descriptive alliteration)(obscure pop culture reference)(curse word). (Offensive religious slander), I have never wanted to (wild card- insert any activity of your choice) so much in my life. But since I can't I guess I will have to wait for the sequel and hope that (insert shitty director) learns how to light (hot starlet's)(vaginal euphemism) so that I don't just see (overpaid actor's) (adjective) (body part) (verb-ing) her (body part) for five whole minutes. I could've stayed at home and watched (80's tv show) and seen better (body part) than that. 2. Caption This  3. Who is the biggest idiot of the summer Michael Vick, Pacman Jones, Lindsay Lohan, The Cleveland Browns, Larry Criag or Jeff Golblum? I know Jeff Goldblum hasn't done anything stupid yet, but it's only a matter of time. If you don't like those choices pick your own and tell me why. 
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