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So much trash, so little time!

Worst.

Yes. The worst. My floor is literally littered with crap. A film shellac that’s as musty as any dusty muff. For years, now, I’ve spent entire paychecks on accumulating this mass amount of Versatile discs. They have overtaken my tiny living room carpet. If my one room shoebox apartment was bigger than a medium size U-Haul storage unit, this might be okay. But it’s not. Still, that never seems to matter. I need digital bits on a round, shiny disc like UFOs need horses. I keep pulling in more, week after week. I can’t stop myself from debiting DVDs. And I can’t possibly watch them all before I die. I shouldn’t even try. Please realize, these are all bought and paid for. By me. Out of my own pocket. (Movieweb hardly ever sends me free screeners anymore. I’m okay with that.)

Alas, I’m not a very discerning purchaser. I like sh*tty movies. The more f*cked-up, the better. Sometimes, I know for a fact that a certain movie is bad. Super bad. Doesn’t matter. I’ll still shill out that twenty bucks for bragging rights. “God, doesn’t it look so beautiful on my shelf?” Just wait until all those people come over and peruse my collection. I’ll be so cool. Too bad that no one ever comes over. I’m living in a virtual fantasy world when it comes to me and the way other people might preserve my cinematic tastes.

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Glitter is not on the list because the cat is hilarious!
Oh, those imaginary friends of mine will think I’m so clever and hip. Look, it’s Gigli. Isn’t that fittingly ironic? I’ve also got Brittany in Crossroads and From Justin to Kelly. Atrocious films? All of them. Rotten to the core. Yet, it would be above me to put them on a Top Ten Worst DVD Purchases of All Time list, because I knew, when I bought them, that they weren’t up to snuff. I’d have to be an idiot to think otherwise. That these shunned superiority projects were made of some sort of enthusiastic genius and quality. To put Glitter (one of the few purposefully indigent outings that I do not own) on a list of all-time Worst purchases would be a complacent poke at consumerism. A heeded joke. The predictable move. A cliché, if you will.

No. To uncover the 10 most horribly inaccurate Versatile acquisitions made by me since 1997, the year DVDs were fully acclimated into my lifestyle, I’d have to dig long and hard. These aren’t bad movies just for the sake of being bad movies. Here rests a burial of seething hate-ablity that seemed justified at the time of receipt. I thought, for whatever reason, that I needed to own, and be able to watch these ghastly things whenever the mood might strike me. Right in the sockets like a vomitous fly high on codeine. In other words, I thought they might have some sort of redeeming quality about them. I was wrong.

I still own each and every one of these eye-gouging time consumers. Thing is, when my friend Teebz and I bought our first DVD players (His was a Panasonic the size of a 1955 Buick Roadmaster. He still owns his and has never had any problems with it. He’s only cleaned it once. Mine was a cheap Samsung. It was the first of five that I’ve procured throughout the years…), we made a pact. No matter how awful a film or transfer might seem, we’d never sell, trade, or give away any of our Discs. Mostly for posterity reasons. Say, one boring afternoon, high on Dooley’s, Teebz and I wanted to watch Jason Lee dance with Bigfoot. Well, we wouldn’t be able to do that had I sold my copy of Drawing Flies. Right?

Sadly, Drawing Flies is not on My 10 Worst DVD Purchases of All Time list, either. Simply for that single scene alone. One 20 second chapter stop can save an entire worthless enterprise. That’s what happened with this Kevin Smith sponsored flu vaccine. About thirty minutes in, everyone’s least favorite Scientologist, Jason Lee, wraps his arms around a hairy Sasquatch and engages in a tango lesson. That’s the stuff awesome DVD collection legacies are made of.

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Jason Lee wallowing in the afterglow of bigfoot love.
While Lee might have escaped the wrath, both Kevin Smith and Bigfoot managed to squeeze their fat asses onto this floored checkpoint. An invaluable cataloging of truth.

Its MY 10 WORST DVD PURCHASES OF ALL TIME list.

The one thing they all have in common? Not one of them has a single redeeming quality. And there is not a chapter stop worth revisiting to be found anywhere on these hellsent discs.

That’s a solid gold promise.

Now, coming in at number 10 is...

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Number 10 - Sasquatch!
Sasquatch. Why did I buy it? I’m a super fan of the big man, and I love the science of cryptozoology. I used to live in the Great North West. Often times, on a Saturday afternoon, when we weren’t hiding from those Rainer Beer Bottles with the human legs (God, what a nightmare), my dad would take J. David and me deep into the woods for an old fashion Bigfoot round-up. We never did see a stink ape. Though, Dad did don a wetsuit super-glued with cat hair for our benefit. We knew it was him. Our neighbor, MaGee, shot him in the ass. And they both puked up corn. It’s a beautiful childhood memory.

Anyway, I’ve always had a fondness for Sasquatch. I’m on the edge of my seat; waiting for those DVD Gods to release the Leonard Nemoy narrated episodes of In Search Of and the entire Kroftt series Bigfoot & Wildboy. I’m telling you, you haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen Bigfoot run down a mountain cradling a sheep. Ray Young kicks much ass. And Cindy was so hot. Any TV show that showcases Peter Brady turning into a white werewolf is okay by me. "By-Ah-Bah!"

I thought Sasquatch (2002) would satiate my need for the beast. Originally titled, and sold on IMDB as, The Untold, this somewhat new (kinda, I guess) Lance Henriksen vehicle should not be confused with Sasquatch: The Legend of Bigfoot. While that 1977 exploitation flick might be a horribly inaccurate account of the Bigfoot legacy, it’s still pretty f*cking cool. And the trailer gave me nightmares as a kid. Oh, and it’s watchable…

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Ray Young is Bigfoot.
Something Henriksen’s Sasquatch is not. I remember putting this in my player, overly excited to glimpse its semi-fraudulent dustbin of power. I thought it would contain some unflappable Stink Ape action. Nope. For two hours, we’re forced to watch a bunch of dumb f*cks traipse around the woods. Whining. Basically, their retarded and lost. That’s the plot. There really is no Sasquatch. He comes on like a paranoid dream. A delusion. Sometimes, we see his face hidden in the bark of a tree. Other times, that ugly mug is seen in the brown glass of a beer bottle. The film itself plays like The Blair Witch Project. Only, it’s not at all fun. I wanted to turn it off. Somehow, I managed to stick with its cruel nature.

When Sasquatch finally gets around to showing us its title character, the imagery’s a bit disconcerting. She looks like Amistad’s Djimon Hounsou (yes, Bigfoot’s a female and she’s lost her child to a poacher). All this bitch ever does is cry. “Bwah-Ha!” What kind of f’d up sh*t is that? I hate this movie. Why did I buy it, indeed?

(Note: I’ve come across Zachery Ty Bryan’s “Bigfoot: The Encounter” about a million times or more in the Wal*Mart 5 dollar DVD bin and have fought the urges to buy it. I instinctively know that sh*t is bad. If I had of purchased it, it would be excluded from this list, because I knew of its wretched unwatchablity well beforehand. Strangely, Taran Noah Smith starred in a film called Little Bigfoot 2: The Journey Home. What is the mystical connection between Sasquatch and the kids of Home Improvement? That’s certainly an updated mystery for In Search Of if I’ve ever seen one…)

Coming in at number 9 is...

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Number 9 - Vulgar!
Vulgar. Why did I buy this movie? Because, at the time, I still liked Kevin Smith. That was before he betrayed us all. Vulgar appeared as the first sign of, what has now become known as, “The Smith Apocalypse”. The bearded one, now a Giant Douche, used to speak for a generation. Then he started speaking in tongues. Those tubby fingers of his can pump out illustrious dialogue. That much is true. But without Jay Mewes, the man is nothing. A selfish hack. He can’t hold a camera, and his musings have dried into a yellow jizm stain. I guess having to sit through Jersey Girl has destroyed my goodwill stance toward Smith and his resume.

Still, I’ll watch his earlier films. And enjoy bits and pieces of them. Like I said, Jay is a super celluloid genius. Sadly, he could do little to save this drowning rabbit. Vulgar is one of the worst acted, worst shot, worst scripted films I’ve ever had to sit through. And yes, I sat through it all. In one lump sum. The thing looks to have been dubbed on an old inner tube. None of the dialogue matches any of the moving lips seen on screen. It’s like a really bad Chinese movie without any Kung Fu. A cut on the finger, and you don’t know where it came from…

Who thought an anal rape story centering on a party clown was a good idea? I can’t believe Kevin Smith sat and watched those little black & white cartoons that open his films like the MGM Lion, and thought that wretchedly hairy man’s back story would make for good popcorn fodder. What an asshole. I guess he’s not solely to blame. Bryan Johnson wrote and directed this mess. Still, without Kevin’s push, it never would have made it as far as it got. I certainly wouldn’t have gone out of my way to purchase the god damned thing (and, yes, it has been damned by God). Watching Vulgar sit on my DVD shelf still makes me irate. Angry. Livid. I hate you, Kevin Smith. Make something good.

No, wait…

Why don’t you just put out another version of Clerks? How about a Mallrats 10th Anniversary Edition. You know we want it. Like vaginal warts against the tongue. In the words of 2 Live Crew…

Get the f*ck out my house, bitch!

Coming in at number 8 is...

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Number 8 - Eye See You (aka D-Tox!)
Eye See You. Why did I buy this movie? Because I was experiencing a Sylvester Stallone appreciation renaissance. I refused to believe the man was chucking that straight to video paycheck. I mean, for shi*t's sake, He was Rocky. He was Rambo. He was Bomowski. Why was he surfing the video store exclusivity shelf? This notion came as pure, undulated blasphemy.

I’ve always liked Stallone as a person. He’s funny and intelligent, and I want to be his friend. On a different note, I’ve never been a big fan of his film work. Copland is kind of breezy, and the first four Rocky films are made of tasty brae cheese. Aside from those class acts, I can’t think of anything else starring Sylvester Stallone that strikes my keys. I do love the Grocery Store shoot-out in Cobra. When he drinks that beer, bullets whizzing past his calm-as-can-be head. Awesome. Tang & Cash has Kurt Russell, but too many people own and worship that slice of chewed fruit simply because Jack Black mentioned it in a song. What? If Tenacious D. writes Captain Ron into a song, are you going to run out and buy a copy of that too, you dumb jerks? Yeah, probably. (Actually, Captain Ron’s a pretty solid flick. Forget I said that.)

I don’t know why I thought Eye See You would be any different from the majority of Stallone’s past projects. I guess I liked the stated synopsis. It sounded a bit like the plot to one of Jason Voorhees’ popular outings. Originally titled D-Tox (way better than Eye See You), the film was supposed to be a “sort of” slasher flick. I liked the idea of Stallone in a Ten Little Indians riff. Surely he’d live, right? To tell you the truth, by the time the thing was over, I didn’t care. I wanted to take an ice pick to my TV screen. Sly doesn’t play drunk very well. And there isn’t a memorable on-screen kill to be found amongst the damage. Why else would I buy something like this? For an ax to the face; maybe split down the rectum. There is no other reason.

Coming in at number 7 is...

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Number 7 - The Underground Comedy Movie!
The Underground Comedy Movie. Why did I buy this? Simple. I was fooled. A couple years ago, maybe in 2000, I kept seeing these ads for this Midnight Movie that was “supposed” to be the next big cult hit. Sure, the poster’s hot. Super Models on a toilet? How could you go wrong with that? Yet, I was a bit weary of the whole endeavor. Cult movies aren’t really allowed to be called “cult” straight out of the gate. They have to accumulate a hardcore “underground” audience. Over time. The UCM claimed itself “classic” without earning the right to do so. I could sense the lie. I decided not to go out of my way to see it. Especially since it meant driving down Fairfax at 2 in the morning.

Next came that late night infomercial. I was intrigued by some of its more “outspoken” scenes. Beautiful girls sh*tting and farting. The beheading of senior citizens. Slash. Michael Clark Duncan as a gay virgin. The commercial promised plenty of shocking offal. And claimed that it would only be available via phone lines. My interest was peeked. That two minute spot almost did its job. I just couldn’t bring myself to abuse my Visa card with such a fop custodial entertainment outing.

Then, one day, strolling through Best Buy, I saw that the film was finally available for retail sale. I scooped it up with the hopes of laughing. Which I never managed to do while sifting through this queasy mess. The Underground Comedy Movie has some of the most base, inoffensive, mildly retarded, unfunny spoofs I’ve ever seen. The movie was made by an untalented rich kid with nothing better to do than waist money making a “movie”; if you want to call it that. Skits like a batman send up, where the Super Hero is a batboy for some obscure baseball team, are about as clever and subversive as this thing gets. There’s a Boob Watch parody. Get it? Bland and stupid.

The few actually watchable scenes were all shown in the two-minute infomercial. Every single one of them. Models on the toilet? The joke is stale and moot by the time it graces our screen in streaks of brown sludge. Slash? He’s drunk and ridiculous. Michael Clark Duncan? I’m embarrassed for him. There’s a special feature that shows him auditioning for his role. Yes, this was made before The Green Mile. Actually, this was made sometime in 1997. Most of the sketches on hand would have felt dated back then. Today, the whole conjunctive endeavor tastes like molded bones. And the ending is a stupefying, overlong stretch of awfulness that needs to be seen to be believed. It’s a fifteen-minute send-up of a gay porno flick. Mixed with a bit of necrophilia. Ugh…

It wasn’t until after I sat through this that I realized it was based on a Los Angeles Cable Access show from the late 80s. No local I’ve ever talked to can remember it. Bruce McCulloch couldn’t make an SNL sketch work on the big screen. Whatever in the world made Vince Offer think he could turn some crappy Public Access show into a worthwhile film? Luckily for us, spoiled brat Offer hasn’t again attempted to try his hand behind the counter since the time of this craptabulous inception.

Coming in at number 6 is...

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Number 6 - Godmonster of Indian Flats!
The Godmonster of Indian Flats. Why did I buy this movie? Because, at the time, standing there in the Suncoast Movie Store, a mutant killer sheep that eats hippies sounded like a really good idea.

Three hours and thirty dollars later, after waiting patiently for said hippy-eating mutant sheep to show up, I realized it was a very, very bad idea. Christ, this stink-fit could really use a remake. Forget the Amityville Horror retooling. Why don’t you get to work on fixing this big, bad, sonofabitch, Mr. Hollywood Executive? (Yeah, like that will ever happen in my lifetime.)

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The mutant sheep that eats hippies!
...Okay, okay…Yeah; I knew this one was going to be ugly going in. I had no idea to what extent, though. That f’d-up sheep should have been able to make the cut. I mean; the thing does dance with some spaced out hot chick with big tits…

It’s defiantly worth rethinking Godmonster’s status on this list…Maybe…I just cannot condone sticking the trounced-up thing back in my DVD player ever again.

Coming in at number 5 is...

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Number 5 - Family Reunion The Movie!
Family Reunion: The Movie. Why did I buy this DVD? Hmm. Did I even buy it? I’m not sure where this came from. One night, I found it in a pile of discs stacked behind the giant cabinet by my TV. I was bored, so I tossed it into my Sony player. Boy, was I ever sorry…

Here’s yet another in a long line of straight-to-video Bar-B-Que flicks, which seems to be some sort of neo-blaxplotation genre at this point. Family Reunion has to be the absolute worst one of the bunch. At least those Brain Hooks outings have a few abiding moments (and that’s why his Chat Room failed to make my essential list.)

Comedian Red Grant’s first foray into the world of film is an East Indian Burial Ground. Or should I say his first foray into home video? Family Reunion looks as though it were shot on an old tube camera. Those ghosting shadows are not a paid for effect. Nope.

Red is so sickening to look at, it almost makes throwing this Disc in the garbage seem like a reasonable (and maybe the only) option. His gapped teeth are obnoxious, and he wears a sh*t-splattered apron throughout the entire duration of the cookout. Watching him turn those weenies with his dirt-thick fingers kept urging tiny bits of vomit into my mouth.

There is one factor of interest. Maybe. Depends on how big of a Real World fan you are. David Edwards, the guy that pulled the blanket off of Tami, sequentially solidifying his status as the first ever cast member to be thrown off that show, appears in an extended cameo as one of the Family Members. If you’ve ever sat, wondering what became of his Comedy Career, here’s the answer. Trust me, it’s not a very uplifting one. It’s actually sadder than the ending of Moulin Rouge.

One note: Family Reunion: The Movie is so fly-by-night obscure; it’s not even recognized by DVD Aficionado or IMDB. That says a lot about it’s overall quality as a viable product. Don’t it?

Coming in at number 4 is...

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Number 4 - El Chupacabra!
El Chupacabra. Why did I buy this movie? See my answer for Sasquatch. I personally feel, at this current point in time, that the Chupacabra monster, otherwise known as the Goatsucker, has a more mysterious back-story than Bigfoot. Less is known about the little fellow. And I’m pretty positive that he/she/it is quite real.

There haven’t been a whole lot of films made about the subject, even though the legend is steeped in popular Mexican folklore. Not to be confused with Troma’s Legend of the Chupacabra, this curious vehicle for rapper Treach ditches its stated mythos for a very long, drawn out story which centers itself around a scientific lab experiment. While Troma’s movie was an inspired bit of lunacy, I personally feel that a really awesome film could still be made about this curious animal killer. That’s what I’d hoped to find here, but all I basically remember about it is some Mexican sheriff driving around in a pick-up truck. For hours.

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Troma's Chupacabra! Cheesy but fun.
Like Sasquatch, El Chupacabra’s main problem is its title character. We hardly ever see it. And when we do, it’s so unimpressive; I can’t even recall the costume’s general appearance in my brain. I don’t understand movies like Sasquatch and this El Chupacabra. The only reason we buy or rent them is to see the title monster wrecking havoc. Neither film wants to give us those scenes. Why not? It’s low budget. I don’t care about character design. Just throw that sh*t on screen in glorious hues of crimson red. At least Troma’s Chupacabra managed to show up and do some damage. I don’t mind that their beast is just a man in an obvious rubber suit. At least he’s on the scene, doing something creative.

That’s what I want…

I don’t want Treach trying to act. I don’t want Eric Alegria in his only film role to date, traipsing around as a dogcatcher. I want blood. I want gore. I want a goddamn Chupacabra. Buying this DVD is the equivalent of buying a package of soy hotdogs. There’s no meat to speak of.

Directors Brennon Jones & Paul Wynne? What a couple of faggots. (I mean, come on…It took two people to create this dire circumstance? Gay!)

Coming in at number 3 is...

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Jinx'D (proving that friends are assholes!)
Jinx’D. Why did I buy this movie? Because one of my “oh, so precious” friends worked on Jinx’D as a PA. That so-called buddy of mine told me it was a hilarious stretch of comedic gold. That it was quite tremendous and worth my time. That I needed to buy it to preserve a moment of his very own work history…

F*ck that friend. What an asshole. He actually had me go out, hunt this abhorrent thing down, and buy it for close to twenty bucks. I understand why he couldn’t just get a free copy and give it to me. Toilet paper for crewmembers wasn’t included in the filmmaker’s budget. Free DVDs would have been out of the question.

Honestly, this thing looks like it was shot from the back of a moving trunk using a bank security camera. It’s supposed to be about Stand-Up comedy, I guess. But Christ, this is worse than Eddie Griffin’s Foolish. The main character is hardly ever on stage. And I’ve heard funnier jokes at the Comedy K-Hole. There’s not one laugh in this revolving door of punishment. There’s supposed to be a mob plot, but I couldn’t make it that far into the viewing.

Yeah, I had to turn this one off before reaching the end. That’s pretty bad. I mean; I’ll sit through just about anything. Jinx’D killed me off. With a not-so-very swift hand…

Coming in at number 2 is...

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Number 2 - Comin' At Ya!
Comin’ At Ya. Why did I buy this movie? One simple fact: I remember the trailer from when I was a kid. 3-D seemed so exciting. I desperately wanted to watch this one at the theater, but I was five or six at the time of its release, and Comin’ At Ya was rated R. There was no possible way my parents would have ever let me see it.

That burning need to watch the film carried itself over into adulthood. One day I was strolling through Circuit City and found this buried amongst the slim action pickings they carried at the time (why back in 00). The cover instantly struck a chord. Finally, my chance to see Comin’ At Ya! And the true beauty of the matter? Its DVD presentation would be in 3-D, just like it’s theatrical release (how could it not be?).

Though, not with its original Polaroid Vectrogram three-dimensional process intact. Instead, I’d have to watch the film with those funky red and blue glasses on, like the ones included with Shrek and Spy Kids 3. This purple haze has a blurring effect that’s capable of producing daylong migraines. I’ve tried to watch this DVD all the way through a good three or four times now, but I never make it further than 20 minutes in. Not just because of the brain damaging 3-D effects, but also because the film itself is incredibly boring and plotless.

It’s scripted a lot like Kill Bill, I guess. A cowboy’s bride is murdered during their wedding reception, and he must seek revenge on the culprits. Yes, he must track down and kill the evildoers. So passé. A majority of the screen time is given over to bats and marbles being poured directly onto the camera lens for our enjoyment. Never once does this effect make it look like something is coming out of the TV set. It’s just annoying, and it gets in the way of the nonexistent storyline.

Despite the nostalgia factor, this one ranks so low on my list, as does Jinx’D, for the simple reason that I could not make it through to closing credits. Even though I tried. Not only does Comin’ At Ya have a quaint way of sucking the life right out of your ribcage, it also crushes the mind with its unspectacular effects.

Yes. Dear God. Comin’ At Ya hurts like a knuckle rubbed the wrong way.

Coming in at number 1, finally, is...

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Number 1 - Tonight's Assfagot

Airlines On-Flight Film...Soul Plane!

Soul Plane. Why did I buy this movie? Because I like Snoop Dogg’s onscreen persona (most of the time). And some jackass at a junket told me it was “incredibly enjoyable.” (Like razor blades against the biggest hemorrhoid.) Shame on me for trusting that assfaggot! The simple fact is: This is the single most racist movie I’ve seen in the last ten years. It gives Song of the South and Birth of a Nation an ethical cleansing. The tone, here, is way off, and there’s nothing funny about it. Everyone involved should be ashamed of themselves. I can’t believe that this type of movie is being made in this day and age.

Its unadulterated crap. And it doesn’t contain one single redeeming factor. Listen to the commentary tract. The makers of the film are oblivious to the hurtful nature of their film. F*ck them. I hope I never have to sit through it again.

Director Jessy Terrero, I Hate You. And Your Stupid Movie! You are the worst kind of artist.

A F*CKING ASSHOLE.

That’s it. There you have it. My Top Ten Worst DVD Purchases of All Time, until the next time I decide to buy some lousy piece of money-sucking trash. I hope it wasn’t too predictable for you.

Now, why don’t you go write your own list. I’m sure you must have one too. Either that, or you’re smart enough not to buy DVDs you haven’t already seen. The Blind Buy is a pretty stupid move on my part. Hopefully, someday, I’ll learn my lesson.

Probably not, though, because…

Goddamn it, I’m a stupid jerk!

(And that’s a fact, Jack!)