I am an awful person. I broke a couple promises this weekend. Some to myself, some to you (my readers). I told you I was going to the beach this weekend, but due to extenuating circumstances I had to stay at work Saturday for 16 hours. I know, quit bitching. That wasn't a big promise, but like the NY Post, I've lied to my readers and will be accountable for it.

The promise I broke to myself was that I said I would never wear flip-flops again to a movie theater. The first time I had an unfortuante incident at the beach theater watching Shrek 2. The ugly incident involved popcorn on the floors and jujubes. It's much worse than it sounds. Anyhow, Sunday we went to see Spiderman 2 and I was thoroughly not very impressed. It was a decent film that was exciting at points and mindnumbingly melodramatic at others. Some of you know my feelings about Ben Stiller (I'll do a recap later) and these feelings are quite stronger in regards to Kirsten Dunst. I am getting ready to lambaste her good so, if you love her (Inka and Han), click away.

Whether she is playing a woman from the early 1900's, Mary Jane Watson or a bitchy cheerleader in a miniskirt, she is the same person. Her range is about as versatile as a stove (get it, range; stove!). She couldn't act her way out of a revolving door. She couldn't catch a cold (sorry, a little off track), or cut grass on the great lawn. Dunst couldn't feel her way through a ball pit or run herself onto a treadmill. Kirsten Dunst couldn't eat her way out of a sea of cheese or laugh her way through a Louis Black show. I'll go on.

Kirsten Dunst couldn't watch herself through a Wonder Years and Life Goes On marathon.
She couldn't fall out of an airplane if the door were open and she was wearing a parachute.
Kirsten Dunst couldn't fail a breathalyzer if she was made of alcohol
and she couldn't pass an eye exam if she knew the answers.

Otherwise, Spiderman deux was a decent movie. Doc Oc was pretty cool and the Editor at Peter Parker's paper stole the show. The sound was magnificent. During the scenes where the nutty professor was creating energy via fusion, the speakers sounded like my car speakers in my old red 94 Camry while I was blasting Got You all in Check by Busta Rhymes in 1996. Kudos to you Mr. Sound guy.

Now, lambasting of Ben Stiller.

I have said before that never has anyone in the world created by two comedians been so unfunny since Nicolas Cage. Ben Stiller couldn't make a baby laugh even if Dave Chapelle was behind him. Ben Stiller couldn't get a rise out of half-retards on viagra opening at a strip club (full retards don't go to strip clubs asshole). Whoever the moron who casts Stiller in his half-baked, half-thought out, rehashed crap let me know because I have a fist sandwich waiting for him.

If I had the power, I would gather Dunst and Stiller in a room, give them the script to Hamlet and make them perform it until someone got it. Maybe then I would actually have something to laugh at Stiller about. I don't think he could say "What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba," very funny.

Stiller and Dunst should be tied together and dragged behind a horse drawn carriage on a road paved with shit. They should be stripped and slashed by rusty can openers then showered in alcohol. Then, they should be scalped and curbed and electrocuted. When their skin begins to smell, capture the aroma and make it into scratch and sniff wallpaper and sent to their families. When they get the horrible sense that they have done wrong in making all their movies, they will be spared and forced to live their lives as hideous outcasts who have suffered the will of the people.

Was this too harsh? I kid Kirsten. I love you, just don't act anymore please, for all of us. Not so fast Stiller.