This Party Sucks Rectum
Van Wilder 2: The Rise of Taj / Bob Chase
Film Reviews | May 2, 2006 | Comments ()
Dustin, who I reckon couldn’t stand to watch any movie without his favorite man-crush, Ryan Reynolds, in it, decided he’d let me review Van Wilder 2: The Rise of Taj for him this week, and I appreciate the opportunity, even if it does mean posting my thoughts on a dumbass Internet site like Pajiba. (What the hell does that even mean, anyway — Pajiba? Sounds fuckin’ foreign to me — and I don’t care for foreigners.)
Anyway, Dustin and I go way the hell back. He probably don’t want nobody to know this about him, on account of all the undeserved shit he gives the Greek system, but I was the president of his frat, way back in the day. We was brothers, true and true, up and until that asshole quit the brotherhood and started writing lies and shit about us in the college newspaper (alright, it wasn’t lies, but it sure as hell wasn’t somethin’ we wanted the whole school to know about us — what with the goats and the caves and the Jell-O shots. That dillhole damn near got us tossed off campus.) Anyway, I don’t care what he or anybody else says — wasn’t none of us into each other that way. We’re just friendly like — sticking shit up each others’ asses was just for fun, man. That’s all part of getting shit-faced and being brothers — and circle jerks wasn’t homo-erotic neither, it was just part of the hazing rituals. That’s something we been doing for years, and that sure as hell don’t make us gay. Well, except for Doc Hollywood — that was his nickname, on account of his snazzy clothes — who was the president of (redacted) before I was. He was a homo, which was why we had to kick him out. [Pub. Note: Totally true. ‘Doc Hollywood’ dated another member of this site after he was tossed.] I bet you’d never guess what Dustin’s fraternity name was, huh? Get this: Jordan! That was on account of him looking an awful like that guy from the New Kids on the Block. [Pub. Note: Fuck you, Bob.]
Where was I? Oh yeah, Van Wilder. Hell, I don’t know nothing about movies. All I know is Adam Sandler is, like, the AWESOMEST guy on the face of the planet, and you know that guy gets a lot of tail. Anybody here see The Waterboy? That shit was fucking too funny! And I don’t know why Dustin gets his nuts in a vice about something like The Santa Clause 3. I took my kids to that a couple weeks ago, and I reckon I liked it more than they did. My youngest one, Bob Jr., gets a real kick out of that Tim Allen feller. Sheeeit! Dustin doesn’t know crap about what real folks enjoy. All I’m lookin’ for is a coupla hits to the testes, a few fart jokes, and maybe a little tits and ass, if I’m lucky. I’ll take what I can get, y’know — my ol’ lady ain’t put out in about 100 years, ever since I pooted in her face while she was down in my nether regions. Now, that’s fuckin’ funny! Besides, all you folks ever wanna talk about is politics and otters (Pub. Note: Auteurs?) and dumbass shows like “Veronica Mars.” Ain’t that some stupid program about aliens and hot teenagers? Actually, that sounds right about up my alley.
So, I was pretty much lookin’ forward to Van Wilder 2, on account of how true-to-life the first one was. Keggers and topless chicks, y’all. That’s what the college experience is all about, at least until your junior year, when you really gotta buckle down on that phys ed major (straight Cs, bitches). And did you check out the rack on Tara Reid? Holy catastrophe! I’d totally tap that if’n it weren’t for a few too many years of Michelob Lights, which ain’t done wonders to my little man, if you know what I mean.
Problem with Van Wilder 2 is, well, it ain’t fuckin’ funny. Even for a guy like me, who could set and watch “American’s Funniest Home Videos” and the Game Show Network for hours on end (and believe-you-me, I do — that’s a good Saturday night for me), I didn’t find much to like about this movie. Truth is, I’ve had better times sittin’ in my La-Z-Boy smellin’ my own gas.
It starts out promising enuff. That Indian guy Taj (Kal Penn) from the first one is back, and he starts out flying over to England. There’s a pretty good airplane scene where this totally hot blonde chick goes down on Taj in the bathroom while he’s pouring hot sauce on his pecker. That totally happened to me a few weeks back, only it was gravy and there wasn’t nobody else in the room — actually, not important.
So, once the Indian feller gets to this fruity England campus, he’s supposed to become a member of some fraternity called The Fox and the Hounds, which is a bunch of hoity-toity rich fucks with English accents. Poofters, I think, is what they call ‘em over there — they’re like the Kappa Sigs, you know? They drink fancy imported beer, like Corona, and look down on us Bud Light kind of guys (course, I can crush a beer can betwixt the rolls of fat on my gut these days). Anyway, the Fox and Hounds don’t care for Taj, on account of him being Indian (Amen!), so they boot him to the “Barn,” which is a mess of individuals if I ever saw one. I reckon you’d say they’re like our Agri Frat, Alpha Gamma Rho, though AGR has some serious shitkickers, if you wanna know the truth.
Over at the Barn, Taj decides he wants to make something of that motley crüe (“Kickstart My Heart” y’all!), which includes the nerd (Anthony Cozens), the Irish shitkicker (Glen Barry), the Butter Face (Holly Davidson), and some dude that cain’t speak on account of all his blood rushing into his huge schlong (it don’t make no sense to me neither). So, what Taj does is he buys them a pinball machine called Miss Nude America, which makes orgasm sounds when you play (I totally have to get that) and a few Scarface posters to make the Barn look like a real frat house, and then he calls it the Cock and Bulls, which is supposed to be some take-off on the phrase “cock and balls,” but it ain’t that funny.
Anyway, Taj hates this dude named Pipp, who is the fancy-schmancy president of the Fox and the Hounds, and he decides he’s gonna whip his ass in one of those fraternity competitions, which includes 11 events, like badminton and fencing (gay as hell, right?). The other piece of the movie, though, is that this Pipp character is also banging Charlotte, who is this totally hot piece of ass that Taj wants to nail. Taj is also a T.A., and Charlotte is the head T.A., who’s all stern and serious and stuff (T.A. — T ‘n A — I just got that!). But you know right off the bat that she’s gonna take down that hair at some point and get all “Hot for Teacher.” And sure enough, Taj and Charlotte get all friendly, which horks off Pipp, on account of Taj stealing his woman (and let me just say, that shit don’t fly at American fraternities — not unless you want 32 members of [redacted] going whole hog on your ass).
And it don’t take no goddamn Ph.D student to see where this movie is going. It’s total bullshit, too. It’s just like that awful flick, Revenge of the Nerds. It’s totally not believable that nerds would rise up and defeat the cool kids, even if the cool kids are a bunch of English fairies. It just don’t happen like that in real life, you know? If some nerd came and tried to talk to my girlfriend, Missy, back in college, he wouldn’t got more than two words out before he met the heel of my boot. Course, he could have her now — her 20s ain’t been too kind to her.
Overall, though, Van Wilder 2 just didn’t do it for me. For one thing, there wasn’t near enough breasts on full display. For a second thing, nobody farts. And for a third, there wasn’t near enough breasts on full display. It was pretty funny how Taj kept talking about “pink tacos,” and “vertical smiles,” and “sunny-side up on the way to the butt,” but that ain’t enough get me through it all. Plus, if it’s going to be a movie about fraternities and not have any songs by “Hootie and the Blowfish,” it ain’t a very credible movie, if you ask me.
Anyway, that’s about all I gotta say about it. I appreciate the folks at Pajiba giving me a place to air my grievances this week, but if you’re gonna do it again, I’d prefer you gave me a better movie to review. Like, when is Road House 3 coming out? That’s gonna be sweet! I’ll have to mark it on my “Women of the SEC” calendar. See ya, bitches!
Bob Chase is the former president of [redacted] fraternity. He is currently a used-car salesman and father of four in Fort Smith, Arkansas.
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