Joe Bob Briggs

Drive-In Movie Critic of Grapevine, TX

I was asking my buddy Rhett Beavers which was better--to kick your girlfriend out of the trailer house, or to get kicked out of the trailer house.

I say, "Get kicked." Much cleaner. You're on the road five minutes later. If she ever sues you, you're the victim. And, most importantly, she can't find your hiney.

Rhett says, "Kick the bimbo out." And he makes all the usual arguments about protecting your stuff.

But here's what I've noticed. When you're the one who ends up with the dang doublewide, why is it that suddenly you have 47 shiny automatic kitchen appliances that all look like Pakistani birth-control devices? I mean, why'd you buy 'em in the first place? If she doesn't know how to use that Automatic Pasta Waffle Crusher, then who the heck does?

And why are there always eight blenders? What woman needs eight blenders, especially when we're talking about the women I know, who never blended anything more complicated than a strawberry daiquiri-flavored low-cal milkshake?

And why are there always 37 little round plastic doohickeys stuffed up in the shelves that are supposed to be "special attachments" to all the kitchen appliances, but you never have any idea what they attach to and what they're supposed to have accomplished in the unlikely event they were ever actually attached?

Kitchen appliances look just expensive enough to keep on the shelf instead of sending 'em to Dumpster City. We guys keep 'em in the lame hope that one day we'll find a girlfriend who actually knows how to cook.

Of course, this is like betting the long odds in the '72 Preakness, but what the heck? If you could stick a sponge in Martha Stewart's mouth, it might almost work, you know?

Anyhow, Rhett lost the argument. Get kicked. Much better. I do not wanna have to tell you guys again.

And speaking of women who'll make your girlfriend throw a fit, the original Barbarian Queen is back: Lana Clarkson, star of Vice Girls, the goofy story of three babe cops on the trail of a serial killer who videotapes young runaway girls right before he makes 'em look like a ravioli TV dinner.

Basically what we got here is three bimbos hanging around an Irish pub, interrogating sleazeball witnesses, and spying on people with the notorious Hooter Cam, featuring two remote-control Nipple Lenses implanted in the cones of a black-leather stripper's bra.

The girls have to take turns wearing it, and dancing in the appropriate manner, in order to get their man.

In other words, a feminist manifesto.
Six dead bodies. Twenty-seven breasts. Multiple aardvarking.
Two fistfights. Boob Cam. Goldfish-eating.
Orgy. Gratuitous striptease. Gratuitous tango.
Drive-In Academy Award nominations for...

* Lana Clarkson, as the booze-swilling cop who sexually assaults her partner in the ladies' room, then says, "Well, the Captain said you were at my disposal," and, "You're obedient, Russo--I like that in a love slave."

* Hoke Howell, as the broken-down ex-cop bartender who says, "Look, You're cops. People get killed. That is the goddamn job."

* Liat Goodson, as the cop with a guilty secret who says, "Just be careful of the nipples--they're very sensitive."

* Caroline Keenan, as the p.o.ed little sister who can actually act.
* And Richard Gabai, the director, who cast himself as the nerdy camcorder buff who thinks the story of his life should be a "neurotic thriller."

Two stars.
Joe Bob says check it out.

Joe Bob's Find That Flick
This week's cranium clobberer comes from...Joshua Burton of Skokie, Illinois:

"When I was in elementary school, probably in 1970 or 1971, I stayed up way past bedtime to watch a weird movie about a guy who wakes up in a giant white cube--sort of a Rubik's Inferno.

"People keep coming in through little doors in the sides and the floor and messing with his mind, but nobody will tell him where his door is, so he can't get out.

"I think there was a gorilla in it, too, but things got a bit hazy when the milk and cookies ran out around midnight.

"This twisted little flick gave me nightmares for years.
"Any idea what it was called, or whether it's available on tape? I would like to see this one with cynical adult eyes, and put some childhood heebie-jeebies to rest."

A video will be awarded for the correct answer. (The winner chooses from our library of titles.) In the event of a tie, a drawing will be held. Send "Find That Flick" questions and solutions to Joe Bob Briggs, P.O. Box 2002, Dallas, Texas 75221. You can also fax them to (213) 462-5982 or e-mail them to Joe Bob on the Internet: 76702.1435@compuserve.com. (E-mail entries must include a postal mailing address.)

We have a winner!
John Mark Eberhart of Raytown, Mississippi, wrote:
"When I was a little kid in the late '60s my dad used to let me stay up and watch these Friday night Creature Features. "There was this movie that scared the pants off me and gave me really cool bad dreams for about two weeks.

"It was about this water witch who goes out looking for water and instead finds this buried human head. Her friends dig it up, and they all take it back to the house and put it in a hatbox (I'm not kidding).

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