Everyday at work I inevitably make a visit to the New York Times webpage to read the days news. Incredibly, 2009 seems to be the year of surfing. Perhaps it is due the melting economy, or maybe it's because our new Commander in Chief is a wave rider, nonetheless, the preeminent American newspaper has featured 3 frigging articles about wave riding in January alone. In case your remotely interested, I have included the three links below.
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/23/sports/othersports/23surfing.html?pagewanted=1&_r=1&hp
http://travel.nytimes.com/2009/01/16/travel/escapes/16superior.html?ref=travel
http://nytimes.com/2009/01/04/nyregion/thecity/04rock.html?pagewanted=1&%20_r=2&ref=thecity/
Sadly, it is not all happy news in the wave riding universe. The supreme ballbag of Hollywood, Mr. Matthew McConaughey has produced and starred in the most pathetic, despicable, deplorable, asinine movie to ever feature surfing, Surfer Dude. This flaming heap of dung was most likely concocted after Mr. No Shirt and his homeboys (both co-writers of the film, and one the director) from Longview had smoked a few too many joints dipped in his son Levi's placenta. To say the movie lacks a discernable plot would be way too kind. Furthermore, I would argue that the film was devoid of an actual script. Of course, this really shouldn't surprise anyone as the movie went straight to DVD, which is the most obvious sign a film is utterly terrible. I know I haven't given one reason as to why I deplore this film yet, so here are three.
1) Mr. Ballbag wears the same pair of boardshorts the entire film. Not only that, el douche never dons a shirt or even wears sandals. At the airport, at a store, in a meeting, or driving, he always appears in the Greg 'Da Bull' Noll's iconic black and white striped boardies.
2) Woody Harrelson. I am beyond peeved that one of my favorite actors would have agreed to be in such limp dick movie. It's like he completely usurped the love I felt for him after his performance from 'No Country for Old Men'. His best line in SD, 'Don't harsh my mellow, brah.' Heady stuff for any true thespian.
3) The incessant weed smoking. Seriously, I haven't seen that many joints toked since a Cheech and Chong movie. It bordered on the ludicrous, and McDouchwad's theory that life was all about sweet waves and sticky green stuff will further tarnish the largely inarticulate, and highly misunderstood tribes even further amongst the land-lubbing public.
The only thing I am thankful about regarding this movie is that we watched a pirated copy from the internet. Honestly, if I had spent even a penny on this brainless garbage I would have gone mental. As it is, I feel cheated out of 90 minutes of my life that I can never regain. Truly, those ninety minutes would have been better served eating paint chips, sniffing gasoline, or examining dog feces. I award this film negative 4 stars, and may God (and surfers around the World) have mercy on his McShirtless soul.
