Are We Done Yet

Are We Done Yet?

Ice Cube, Nia Long, John C. McGinley

In between Christmas and Lent comes a very special season, a season where Front Row Joe comes down the chimney and leaves all movie fans a very special gift... stinkers. From the beginning of January until early March Hollywood dumps its’ biggest dogs into the theaters. The reasons are simple. With theaters clogged with Academy Award hopefuls and Oscar-mania running wild, the studios can slip their most craptastic movies into the theater without much critical notice, make a few bucks, and get it out on DVD to make another score before anyone notices. Plus, there is the added benefit of critics having short memories and forgetting most of these short yellow bus movies when it comes time to make their worst of the year list. I call this season "Ice Cube season" after the rap star turned actor (if you can call what he does that) who annually seems to have a movie released during this time period. Except for the Barbershop series and Three Kings, Cube's acting consists in scowling like he just stepped in something your dog left behind in films such as Torque, Anaconda, Ghosts of Mars, and xXx: State of the Union. Are We Done Yet? is a sequel and the sentence I kept uttering during the awful Are We There Yet?, a comedy where Ice shows his love for a woman (Nia Long) by allowing his tricked out SUV to be destroyed by her two demon seed children.

Here is the problem. I made a New Year's resolution to be nice and, while I know that my family intends to fill my casket to the brim with sun tan oil to give my fair skin some protection from the fires of hell, I am not going to break this resolution in the first few days of 2007. Here goes...

Are We There Yet? Something good to say.... Oh, the vet is here to give my half deaf dog his shots and yearly check-up. Be right back....

$263. $263 for that flea bitten dog. Three years of not being able to watch Cops on television because the dog panics and loses control of his bowels every time he hears the ending siren, because the previous owner kept on getting arrested all the time. $263 on a dog that I have to carry baby wipes for because he hasn't learned to lift his leg yet and keeps on blasting his front leg.

$263 on a dog, who, whenever a pretty girl comes up to tell me how cute he is while I am walking him. will purposely butt scoot across the grass. $263 on a dog that I have to feed sleeping pills to on a trip more than 15 miles. $263 to have my vet lecture me on how fat and lazy he is getting and, as I am trying to argue that he is not, he goes over to his bowl and lies down to eat. $263 to hear that I should keep that golf ball that he is always carrying around and chewing on, away from him.

Got to get back to the review. Remember nice... Wait a minute, I stepped on a bar of soap that was on the drain in the shower. It is draining a little slow. I think I will pop the drain cap, see what I can see, go to the nearby Casey's and get some Liquid Plumber. Be back in a few minutes. Back, shower is totally clogged for some reason after pouring Liquid Plumber. Must be five inches of standing water. Think I am going to take a break for the day.

Day 2. Remember only say nice things about movie.... Shower still clogged. Think I will get the heavy duty Liquid Plumber and try that. Be right back... What the hell? Has Liquid Plumber ever worked? Think I am going down to the basement and bang the pipes with my putter. It might loosen the clog.... Crap, not working. Think I am going to take a break and go to my Aunt's house and then might call a plumber.

Day 3. Women. Stopped by my Aunt's house. There must be a switch in the back of every man's head that is turned when a woman says something logical to you. I was telling her my shower problems and she said why don't you call a plumber. Seemed logical, but for some strange reason it is now a quest. I will fix this clog or die trying. All drainage has stopped in the shower. Water is at lip of shower. Cannot do review until shower is fixed.

Day 4. Tried to use fish tank cleaning equipment to unplug drain. Fished tube down drain but could not loosen blockage. Tried to blow blockage through like inflating a children's pool. Got really, really dizzy when I stood up. Shouldn't have tried it a second time. At least I know that I will never have a career involving a golf ball and a garden ho... I forgot this is a family paper. Maybe I will cut out the pipes.

Day 5. I am smelling ripe. Have to wear stocking hat all the time. I will win. Borrowed drain snake from parent's. Hit blockage and stopped. Called on my lord and savior for the next ten minutes. Dog is hiding in bedroom. Aunt stopped by to be Miss Negative and say I need to call the plumber. NEVER. This is a quest. I will be victorious.

Day 6. I am having to stand down wind from people, but I will not be defeated. Aunt called my cell phone. Left message "call the plumber." What does she know. I am on search for an old fashioned plunger. Maybe that will unclog drain. Had one but got rid of it when I got super toilet. Love my super toilet. Call four different places. No one has an old-fashion plunger. Mom thinks they have one somewhere in their house. Now just have to figure out where to get hacksaw.

Day 7. Review due, but more importantly found plunger after 2 days of searching. It was behind lawn chair and some wood in the garage. Held it high like it was Excalibur. Swear a ray of heaven came down and hit the red rubber head as I held it aloft. What the hell is this white junk all over the head? Don't want to know. Got it home and started working on the drain. Two hours of plunging. Pipes are rattling. I am sweating. Dog is hiding behind couch. Finally suction is so great I cannot move plunger anymore. Takes all my strength to pull plunger from drain. As I fall backwards and crash into wall, I look up and out of the corner of my eye I see a chewed up golf ball flying up out of the drain. My $263 fat-assed god-forsaken mutt must have dropped the damn thing down the drain when I went to the store for the Liquid Plumber. As I am sitting on bathroom floor laughing like a crazy man and holding a chewed up golf ball, the dog comes in, lies down next to me, puts his head in my lap, and falls asleep. I love that dog.

Moral of the story. When you try to be nice, you clog up your pipes. Come on, there is no moral. I hated the movie and don't want to talk about it. It is a bad rip off of the great Cary Grant film Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House and not even a good rip off at that. The awful Tom Hanks' The Money Pit was better. Awful. Awful. Awful. Awful. Awful. I hate Ice Cube. Hate, hate, hate him. John C. McGinley, who I love in Scrubs, is slumming in a role of the contractor you know was written with Christopher Walken in mind but that he was probably smart enough to never even look at. Did I mention that I hate Ice Cube. I hate rap. (News flash for you, kids. If white Iowa teenagers listen to it. It is not cool anymore.) I don't know how but I am sure he is responsible for my plumbing problems. I'll see you in hell, Mr. Cube, or that is what I will call the theater in 2008 when I am watching his newest movie The Extractors

Verdict: Let Me Count the Ways I Hate Thee