A Night At The Roxbury

Pissing Dog

Many years ago the price of a movie ticket was fifty-cents. Had this movie been lucky enough to have made it to the big screen, it would not have been worth the price of the ticket.

It’s a feature length film based on a two-minute long TV show comedy skit (Saturday Night Live). The rest they made up as they went along. Why should we bother?

Two idiots go club hopping and set their sights on the Roxbury, a sort of high-class joint.

I was forced to watch this stupendous garbage by Bubba, my hubba-hubba, who thought it might be amusing in some way. He tied me to the chair. I lasted about 25 minutes before I decided that if I held my breath long enough, I’d eventually pass out and thus save myself from permanent brain damage as a result of watching the entire 88 minutes of this so-called story. I did pass out. The chair fell over and I bumped my head. Bubba had to carry me back to bed where I am now recuperating for the rest of the week. I think I may have suffered amnesia because I really can’t remember any of the stupid details of this stupid movie except to say that I hope they don’t decide to make a Roxbury 2.

Lotta says: “Hey, Paramount, wake up and smell the dog doo-doo, it’s right under your noses.”

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