Last week finished moderately well in regards to watching a few chick flicks that didn't completely suck. Relatively speaking that is. My pseudo-success of the week past hardly matters anymore, or at least won't after I've obliterated the remaining happy feelings from it with today's review. Admittedly, I should have realized something was up when I stumbled across a newer chick flick that I never heard of, called The Accidental Husband.

I can only imagine that it was unheard of because its creators, along with the actors who starred in it, have been using their vast fortunes to bury any shred of evidence that it was ever made. That much I could understand. If the Phantom Zone from Superman II were a real thing, no doubt it would be placed in there along with Star Trek: Generations and Jennifer Lopez.

Everyone and everything shares equal blame in this movie. The actors stunk it up all over the place. The plot was a joke. There was never any real tension to hold onto. The two main characters were kind of boorish assholes. To top it all off, the story didn't even make sense. In it, this guy's fiance dumps him over the advice of a radio talk show host, so he has his teenage neighbor change the municipal records to say that they are married, hoping to wreck her upcoming wedding plans as vengeance. I suppose such a hack might be possible, but there's no way it would stick. The entire impetus of this movie is one big joke. I actually think -- kill me now -- that I would have rather watched an hour and a half of Dane Cook stand-up than this. Ugh. Yeah OK, probably not.

It does make you start to wonder though, where exactly is that line is drawn? In this real, hyperbole-free life, what would I do to get out of watching another film as bad as The Accidental Husband? Well here's a chance for us to sort it out, in real life. This Friday I'll pull down the weekly sidebar poll a few days early, then re-post it with four not-so-fun things I'm willing to do in place of watching yet another shitty movie. Between now and Friday I encourage you to submit things you'd consider just as painful for me as sitting through a chick flick. If no sparkling gems can be mined from the comments section, here are the four options I'm going with:

• Attach and then, one-by-one, yank 15 binder clips off of my face
• Squeeze an entire (6-8 oz.) bottle of yellow mustard into my mouth and swallow it
• Have Christie give me a makeover, then post the resulting glamour shot as my Facebook profile picture for one full week
• Let my son hit me in the balls with his toy lightsaber or a whiffle bat

As always, my fate rests with your twisted minds and clicking fingers. Whatever gets the highest number of votes I will do, and then post video/pictures of at some point during the final week. Having read the above choices numerous times, there is no doubt I'm getting the better end of this deal.

Regarding The Accidental Husband, I'm not sure what's left to be said, other than don't ever watch it. Take that 87 minutes and go plant a tree or read to underprivileged children. Hell, go kick a puppy and rob a convenience store if you have to. Once they hear your reason, all will surely be forgiven. This one gets 5 pink tacos, plus Uma Thurman's now worthless SAG card.