“Some of you may be surprised (or annoyed) to see my byline in the Buchtelite. After all, I signed off in May with a final farewell column, doing the whole retrospective walk down memory lane gimmick. As luck would have it, I am back … and my byline will again be gracing the pages of the Buchtelite.”
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Some of you may be surprised (or annoyed) to see my byline in the Buchtelite. After all, I signed off in May with a final farewell column, doing the whole retrospective walk down memory lane gimmick.

As luck would have it, I am back … and my byline will again be gracing the pages of the Buchtelite.

It’s questionable whether I am qualified to write about pop culture.

I’m probably not, but I’m the best you’re gonna get this semester, and maybe next.

So, without further adieu, let’s get this over with.

I haven’t seen too many movies this summer, and some of what I have seen left a bit to be desired.

That includes I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry.

What a disappointment. With Adam Sandler and Kevin James in the same movie, you’d think you’d have some laughs. You don’t. And, once again, we are treated to Rob Schneider in a ridiculous role – the only kind of role he can get, courtesy of his buddy.

I also watched Hairspray.

Wow.

That’s all I can say.

I watched it to see John Travolta reprise Divine’s role. Now, it’s a fine film, if this type of film is your thing. But it’s not my type of thing.

And, Travolta as a woman? Holy Toledo.

I went into Evan Almighty thinking it would probably suck, and I wasn’t disappointed. As much as I like Steve Carell, even he could not save this flop.

I did, however, enjoy Sicko (duh), Knocked Up and Hostel 2. Sicko was typical Michael Moore fare, Judd Apatow – and Seth Rogen – delivered yet again with Knocked Up, and the Hostel sequel far outdid the original.

I’ve been spending my Sunday nights watching celebreality shows. I make it a point to view into the almost unwatchable yet strangely compelling The Two Coreys before flipping to Scott Baio is 45 and Single. The latter should probably be called Scott Baio is 45 and a D-bag, though it could also be called Scott Baio is 45 and the Luckiest Man Alive.

It turns out that Baio has somehow parlayed a mediocre acting career – Joanie Loves Chachi, Charles in Charge – into the most successful sex life ever.

Two interesting tidbits from this series: Chachi lost his virginity to Joanie (true story) and one of his best friends is the tool who played Wayne on The Wonder Years.

I refuse, however, to watch Rock of Love. Not because I don’t take pleasure in train wrecks, but because I cannot stand looking at an aging rock star in a perpetual bandana.

In important book news, I am happy to inform you that If I Did It will finally be published. Thank you, Lord.

It will not be published by OJ, however. A federal bankruptcy judge recently awarded the rights of the book to the family of Ron Goldman. In the ultimate eff you move, it is rumored that the Goldmans will rename it Confessions of a Double Murderer. Bam, boom.

And, for those of you still stuck in 1985, Van Halen has reunited and is going on tour. One change, though: Michael Anthony has been replaced by Eddie Van Halen’s dorky teenaged son, Wolfgang.

You heard right.

Wolfgang.

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