Meet Nadia Abdelrhman, a Stranger reader who has vowed to do everything The
Stranger
suggests
for the entire month of March. Look for her reports daily on Slog and Line Out. —Eds.

Being that I am from Jersey and of a certain age, I have previously enjoyed Kevin Smith films. But we all suspected that Cop Out was going to suck.

Sure enough, no one else was in the theater. (Which brings up the question: Do they just roll a movie anyway if no one buys a ticket? Do they end the film midway through?)

While Bruce Willis keeps busy collecting his social security checks, Tracy Morgan has a couple of funny moments, and his romance with Rashida Jones reminds me of how good he looks in a diaper. Adam Brody and Kevin Pollak act out Kevin Smith's hokey gay fantasies; Seann William Scott is high on a lot of drugs. Incidentally, Kevin Smith directs the film that will likely be to blame for his first heart attack.

Cop Out was so bad that I had to go home and drink enough gin and juice to erase Guillermo Díaz from my shrunken brain. Afterward, I tried to write my review (as Lindy West), only to end up in the fetal position, muttering gibberish. When I awoke this morning, I felt like a hollow shell, because Cop Out made me projectile-vomit my soul.