The week of September 1st through September 7th

Welcome to an all boo addition of the Whoop-Doo Nation...Wait a minute, what's this? The hottest mulatto on the planet has had an egg breach? I can't boo that, especially if it means we'll be getting In Touch photos of her little nutspray in a Catwoman jumper. Know who I can boo though? Yup, you guessed it...

Boos! and Whoop-doos!

Seann William Scott? Boo!

Seann William Scott? Boo! A funny thing happened on the way home from Mr. Woodcock. I decided that I actually liked it. Mr. Woodcock is not the funniest movie of the year, but it had enough laughs to keep me entertained. I loved its dark hues, and the end bit with the ambulance gurney totally floored me. Billy Bob Thornton, as always, is kick ass in the role of Jasper Woodcock. The film has this bizarre, nightmarish feel that almost makes it seem more like a David Lynch movie than a generic frat daddy comedy. I'd recommend seeing it. You know who doesn't recommend seeing it? Seann William Scott. This guy was an exceptionally smarmy dick at the Mr. Woodcock junket. A totally unlikable presence. Why? Because he hates this film. And he wasn't shy about making that known. You'd expect this out of Stifler, right? Wrong! I've interviewed Scott in the past, and he has always been a very corrigible, pleasant gentleman. A pretty cool guy. But this time he treated his interviews (not interviewers, though, I should note) in a very unprofessional manner. I understand not liking something, but you are being paid to sell this product. Not shit all over it. I'd understand if the movie was a herpes-flavored dog dick. But it isn't. Dude, where's your manners? I've come to expect more out of you. You've always been cool in the past. Maybe I'll just chalk this one up to the heat.

Boos! and Whoop-doos!

Joust? Boo!

Joust the Movie? Boo! I remember hating this god awful game when I was a kid. Those blurred Digi-dots resembled a couple of turds floating around in a cloud filled sky. Except the clouds were shit brown. I think those little pixilated men where supposed to be Knights, and the things they were flying around on where ostriches. You'd bump into these flying buzzards, and knock the egg out of 'em. That sums up the plot. How the Hell are they going to make a movie out of that? And they expect us to pay for it? This is what happens when Hollywood gears up for a strike. They start throwing all kinds of wack-ass projects into production. I can't even crack a "they should make a movie out of so-and-so game" jab, because the only other videogame worst than Joust was the one based on the hit film E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial. They didn't even make a Saturday morning cartoon show out of this laborious thing back in the day. How do they expect to make a feature length movie out of it now, here, in our sophisticated cinematic climate? I'm betting it's impossible. Hopefully, we'll never see this.

Boos! and Whoop-doos!

Teresa Palmer? Whoop-doo!

Teresa Palmer in December Boys? Whoop-doo! She is the sexiest thing on two legs, beating even the urban astrodium Peacock. She fucks Harry Potter so hard, he has no other recourse than to become a priest. Only because, he knows it will never get this good again. Either that, or she has scarred him so bad he has no other recourse than to spend his days in the company of young boys. Her touch could do it to a man, her raunchy lustfulness leaping off the screen with enough energy to power a city as big as Rhode Island. Thinking about her has made me dumb. She is cinematic Viagra, and if your lovely lady friend drags you to just one Oscar weepy, make sure it's this burley drama. You're not going to want to miss Palmer and her crotch-immobilizing turn as an Oceanside harpy. She's so hot, she'll make your girlfriend's panties wet. She'll make the heartbeat thump in your piston vein throb so fast, the KK on your zipper will look like a Mexican low rider. Just make sure you keep it in your pants when visiting the Cineplex. Sicko. There are a lot of young boys running around in tight-tight shorts in this thing. Some people might get the wrong idea about you.

Boos! and Whoop-doos!

Sexy Science? Boo!

Sexiest Walk Controversy? Boo! I mean, Teresa Palmer might just have the sexiest walk, and she wasn't even included in the survey. The winner of the sexiest walk? Jessica Alba. How did they determine this? A hair growth company did a scientific study to find out who had the most attractive strut. It was based on body weight, height, limb proportion, hairstyle, and basic genetics. Alba beat out other top contenders such as Angelina Jolie, Kate Moss, and Marylyn Monroe (whose retard-slow zombie gait still registered with the male conductors of the experiment). Professor Richard Weber calls the study a scam. And I agree. I don't think you can scientifically judge a woman's walk. Case in point: the plus-size Nicki Blonsky was ten times sexier in Hairspray this summer than Jessica Alba was in Fantastic Four: Rise of The Silver Surfer. I know a lot of chubby haters are going to say I'm crazy, but go watch Hairspray, and tell me I'm lying. That short little girl really knows how to move that body. That's not science. That's...F*ck, I don't know what that is, but I like it! What the Hell did Alba do in her movie? Turn invisible. A hot chick turns invisible? Yeah, that's real sexy.

No Corey Haim in The Lost Boys 2: The Tribe? Boo! I know, enough with the two Coreys, already. This back-and-forth has been going on long enough. It was announced this week that Haim definitely wont be in The Lost Boys 2: The Tribe, even though both Corey Feldman and Jamison Newlander are reprising their roles. What gives? Haim says its Feldman's fault. We've heard that it has to do with his work Visa. Which is weird. I thought he had duel citizenship, seeing as how he is from Canada and the film is currently shooting in Vancouver. Who knows anymore? But I still care. Haim is my favorite out of the two Coreys, and I'd be less depressed if Feldman was the one who had to drop out. I'll still buy the movie though, which is not, as once reported, going to theaters. I think the Frog Brothers are one of the best comedic duos to come out of the 80s. I just wish they could have found a way to bring Sam Emerson with them. Those fuckers. Excuse me while I go stroke my Rob Lowe poster (The Lost Boys enthusiasts know what I'm talking about).

Wreck? Boo!

New Titles for Cloverfield? Boo! Monstrous. Wreck. Yum. Rampage. Smash. Debris. "Aaaahhhh!" This is Japan's Fault. Godzilla Returns Again. Feet. Riot. Monster Storm. Run Amok. Berserker. Fiend Gone Wild. Holy Shit. Town Crasher. Demolished. Destroyed. Breakers. Crushed. Crushproof. Crusado. The Monster Squad 2. Slusho. Slusho's Revenge. Squeezed. Big Hands. Squash. Mashy Mashy. Flesh Mush. Pounder. Crimson City. Blood Flood. The People Mover. Town Farter. Fuck This Movie. No, Really...

Boos! and Whoop-doos!

Baby Berry? Whoop-doo!

Halle Berry is Pregnant? Whoop-doo! And that's all I have to say about that! Congratulations. Now keep that kid out of the trash rags. And knock some of that dust of your smacker so the kid doesn't choke on the way out.

I'll see you fools later. And remember, Party, Saturday Night, Mantooth's house. You have to be dressed as a superhero to get in.