In my quest to cook food in such a way that doesn�t employ the microwave, I planned a barbecue for Saturday night � coinciding, of course, with Notre Dame�s season-opener against Maryland.

Lauren suggested hot dogs, but when I whipped out my Cooking Light, I got ambitious and chose flank steak marinated in balsamic vinaigrette, pepper, and shallots. I bought three ears of corn to go with it, because otherwise I�d have ingested no vegetables that week, and baked up a chocolate-brownie cheesecake torte to finish.

It all sounds so simple, right? But it never is, because I am quite possibly the worst meal planner in the world. For one thing, I lack foresight, evidenced by the fact that I selected the marinade and made it before realizing that the recipe calls for the meat to soak in it for eight hours, and I had only five, maybe six, until dinner. Also, I have no idea how to grill ears of corn. I just know that they taste good when you do it.

My skills at firing up the grill are so immensely weak that I resorted to buying the small bag of soaked coals that you just dump on the grill and light without opening. That part worked. But the flame took forever to creep along the bag, ignite all the coals, then burn down to a glowing orange. The open flame would not go down. My plan to cook during halftime? Ruined, because the coals took about forty minutes to ready themselves.

And sadly, I don�t think they were as hot as they could be. The recipe claimed I could cook the steak six minutes on each side. The recipe is a flaming, burning, flaming liar -- I could have grilled the steak in two minutes if I laid it atop the recipe.

Um, of course, I did double the weight of the meat, because a one-pound piece isn�t very big if you want to feed three and have leftovers for two� but it was the same thickness, so it shouldn�t have needed more time to cook� should it? Um.

But after about twenty minutes or so, the meat was nicely done. Perfectly pink.

Unfortunately, the ears of corn were hard as rocks. I could have thrown one at a Maryland receiver and it would�ve tackled that bastard to the ground and made him fumble (luckily, my team did just fine with that, and I didn�t need to apply the Corn Defensive Scheme at all). I finally resorted to microwaving the corn, because the finished meat was getting cold.

Halftime was at 6:30. I was going to have it all done by 7 so we could watch the third quarter with a fat plate of food. Yeah, I failed. We ate at 8. The game was over.

But the glory was not. Because there are bad movies, and then there are bad movies.

Sometimes, bad movies � trashy flicks like Showgirls, or just dumb teen films like She�s All That � are still fantastically addictive, and royally fun to rip. You know, the kind of movies that paid for Sarah Michelle Gellar�s engagement ring from Freddie Prinze, Jr. Occasionally these flicks secretly kind of halfway decent, or chock full of enough hot young eye candy that it�s enjoyable if you watch it on mute. But every once in a while, there�s a stinker that you just can�t even sit through without grinding your teeth.

JESSICA:
So I was thinking, why shouldn�t I get a gay sugar daddy? It�s so�

HEATHER:
Aaaaaaaah, GUH!

LAUREN:
Quite.

HEATHER:
Noooooo, it�s� GLUH! (jumping up and down, trying to change the channel) Wait, you�ll see� Nooo, hurry up... deargodpleasechangethefuckingchannel!!

TiVo:
Chill, bitch. You don�t know my life.

JESSICA:
This had better be as good as the lead-up.

HEATHER:
It�s ON!� GLITTER!

LAUREN and JESSICA:
Aaaaaaaaah!

I had been so excited when Glitter came on, because hello, it practically swept the Razzies � Mariah Carey won Worst Actress, and it won Worst Movie, and there were several others it snared too. This was destined to be fantastic viewing for three snarky, bitchy, highly foul-mouthed young ladies such as Lauren, Jessica, and I. So we sat down to watch the movie, our jaded minds already predisposed to hating it, but quietly yearning for something that�s fun to mock and, therefore, watchable until the end of time.

We were so, so disappointed. Glitter is one of the bad, bad, BAD movies that you just sort of wish didn�t exist to give other bad, good, bad movies a bad, bad, bad name.

This is about as much success as we had with it:

HEATHER:
Wait, isn�t this set in the 80s?

JESSICA:
It�s supposed to be, but� wait, WHAT is that hat she�s wearing?

LAUREN:
I thought the 80s were full of, you know, 80s music. And yet she�s not�

HEATHER:
Why is there a silver stripe on her skin?

JESSICA:
It�s her glitter.

HEATHER:
It looks like duct tape.

LAUREN:
It�s patching the plot holes.

JESSICA:
Oh, what is wrong with that man�s voice?

HEATHER:
Is that this "Max Beasley" person? Her love interest? Man, he is ugly. I think he�s a Brit in real life and he�s clearly making big career mistakes.

LAUREN:
He appears to have forgotten that he can�t do a New York accent. Or he�s too drunk to know the difference.

JESSICA:
I think he�s drinking to forget.

�

LAUREN:
Oh my God, is that� it is, it�s Eric Benet. What is Eric Benet doing here? His wife won an Oscar�.

HEATHER:
Shouldn�t he be in a clinic for the sex addiction?

JESSICA:
WHAT?

HEATHER:
Yeah, right after the Oscars�, when they started having problems, he checked into a clinic because he�s suffering from the sex addiction.

LAUREN:
HE IS MARRIED TO HALLE-FUCKING-BERRY.

JESSICA:
That is so, so sad. And yet, brilliant.

HEATHER:
I think he�s making eyes at Mariah. He wants to sex her up.

JESSICA:
Do you think he knows he�s in a movie?

LAUREN:
Much less this movie?

HEATHER:
Way to work the side ponytail, Mariah. It�s like they forget it�s set in the 80s until the last minute, so they give her era-vague clothing and hardcore 80s hairdos.

LAUREN:
I know. Seroiusly, am I crazy? Shouldn�t a movie set in the 80s and revolving around the music industry actually contain some� on, I don�t know�. 80s-style music? Why else would they set this in the 80s?

JESSICA:
Look, Eric Benet is eye-fucking her.

HEATHER:
He�s like, "You know what they say -- starve a cold, feed a sex addiction."

LAUREN:
He should be like that guy on Scrubs who walks around and all you hear him say is, "I�m a tool. I�m a tool." Except Eric�s walking around going, "I want you, I want you, I want you."

JESSICA:
Look, her glitter is on her shoulder now.

HEATHER:
HANG ON, he�s naked. Max Beasley�s shirt is totally open. Naked.

JESSICA:
Oh sweet mother of God, it�s true. Aren�t they at an awards show?

LAUREN:
"Welcome to my chest, America."

�

JESSICA:
I am so confused right now. If Mariah is a singing star, why is she shacking up with her two broke-ass friends? And why is her glitter now on the back of her neck?

HEATHER:
Is she a star? They haven�t shown her get famous. They just sort of offhandedly mention her single doing really well in the charts.

LAUREN:
Maybe she�s just keepin� it real. Because she�s an orphan. Which they just now mentioned, even though we�re an hour into the movie.

HEATHER:
Little Orphan Mariah. Oh look, she wrote a tragic song.

JESSICA:
On so many levels.

LAUREN:
You guys, this is her time of need.

JESSICA:
Yes. She needs to quit.

�

JESSICA:
Does anyone know what�s happening?

HEATHER:
I don�t know. I think she�s wondering if the singing homeless woman is her mother.

JESSICA:
Did you really just say that phrase?

HEATHER:
Yeah. But I didn�t enjoy it.

LAUREN:
Who is that gangster-looking person? Oh well. I give up. Mariah�s glitter is on her collarbone.

HEATHER:
Mariah�s trying to emote. You can tell because she�s wrinkling her forehead. That look says, "I�ve been betrayed."

JESSICA:
Or, "I need a nap. And more of the drugs."

LAUREN:
Why is Max being an asshole? What the fuck are they talking about?

HEATHER:
He has received no comeuppance. We have passed the hour of comeuppance and it never came. Look, she kissed the sheet music. That says love, folks. She forgave him.

JESSICA:
That bitch. She is so dumb.

LAUREN:
Seriously! He pranced around being a prick and then she forgave him because he wrote her name on a sheet of music?

HEATHER:
I hate her.

LAUREN:
Oh, gangsta-man is back. Why is he mad, again? What�s he doing in this movie?

JESSICA:
Oh, I bet the gangster will shoot Max Beasley for his sins.

HEATHER:
Nah, because he�s the love interest and� oh, wait, DAMN, he just did! Max Beasley is dead!

LAUREN:
Well it�s about fucking TIME, isn�t it? Fucking hell, dude. You�re the love interest and I am ROOTING FOR YOU TO DIE.

HEATHER:
It�s too late. There was no comeuppance.

LAUREN:
Maybe her glitter will appear EXACTLY on the spot where he got shot.

JESSICA:
That�s too intelligent and well-planned.

HEATHER:
Apparently. Because there it is, on her shoulder blade.

JESSICA:
I cannot believe we just watched that movie. That was seriously one of the hardest things I�ve ever done.

LAUREN:
I can�t believe someone made that movie. Like, why would Max Beasley have written her a "good luck at the concert, and by the way, they found your birth mother" note, when he was planning to see her later that night and didn�t know he would get killed by a gangster before he could talk to her? Oh my God. I hate this movie.

HEATHER:
I think it�s our turn to drink to forget.

Best line of the movie: "Is she white? Is she black? I don�t know. She is exotic. � I need to see more of her breasts." � Mariah�s music video director, expressing his creative vision.

But, that line aside, the moral of the story is, don�t let Glitter happen to you.

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