Another humorless movie rant...

People, you know we've been over this before. I offer you further evidence that American pop culture is pathetically bankrupt:

"Hitch" tops weekend box office

Ray Charles triumphs at Grammys posthumously

That's all I have to say, since I already regaled my co-workers at our team lunch on Friday with my theory that liking gag-inducing, corporate test-marketed films like "Hitch" is a clear sign that your sucking power should be tapped by the Hoover corporation. They responded by trying to shove me into the cinema doors where "Hitch" was playing as we exited the mall. It's as if they think I am a humorless crank, tilting at windmills. What is their problem?

The last time I went to see a movie, "Hitch" was one of the trailers, and it was so totally test market and cookie cutter and digi-humor as to make me choke on my overpriced beverage, and yet people in the theater were laughing, I mean, slapping their knees laughing, at the white-guys-can't-dance jokes, and the homophobic men kissing jokes, and the Will Smith kicking girlfriend off jet ski by accident jokes, HAW HAW HAW. And for a second, I just totally questioned my sanity. It was almost like the time that I saw a trailer for Kangaroo Jack, except, that was digilips, which is a whole other subject. My ire for that film led somehow to my parents threatening to buy the DVD for my husband, which finally, horrifyingly, happened last Christmas.

I can't say anything about the Grammys, since merely acknowledging their existence makes you lame. Oops. Except that, surely there are enough corporate pablum-rock garbage acts still living that the Grammys don't need to insult the departed with an acknowledgement.

Ok I am shutting up now.

Hey, peeps. Send mail to mail@tiny-dog.com.