I can't believe I waited 3 days for the torrent to complete for this, but no surprises why no one's seeding. Originally I was going to watch it on 123 movies, but what they had labeled as this movie was instead a strange skateboard flick overdubbed in Russian. In retrospect, I should have watched that instead. I'm sort of burying the lead here: This movie sucked dick. Let's start off with things I don't get about this sh*t: are we meant to believe Luke Wilson with his perfect haircut and thousand dollar casual clothes and successful job, that he's somehow a loser? And that a hot piece like Natasha Henstridge would ever hang out in a singles bar and complain about being lonely? F**k off. Sure, she has a dyke haircut in this, but it doesn't matter. It wouldn't matter one bit. Even when she threw up on Luke Wilson's cock while giving him a blow job. Wouldn't matter. I mean the whole premise lost me there--it's worse than The Whole Nine Yards when she was meant to be attracted to f**king Chandler Bing. And as for dogs, well I hate the f**kers. Dirty, noisy little rodents that people project their emotions onto. But that's besides the point; because this movie wasn't even a dog movie, like you know Beethoven, K-9, those movies are actually about the man-dog relationship. But here the dogs are treated like set pieces. They may as well not be in the movie, because you could replace them with umbrellas and achieve the same effect. On top of that, you have this weird setup with the ex-girlfriend and the dog psychologist (????) and none of it makes a lick of sense. The more I think about it, the more it's making me perplexed. The whole story is like if the lead grip scribbled down the plot on the back of a cocktail napkin while waiting in line at Starbucks for everyone's coffee, then due to some bizarre chain of events, I don't know, he gets back and spills the coffee over the real script, and they pick up the napkin story instead and just roll camera without giving it a moment's thought and by the time someone notices they're bound by some sunken cost fallacy to see it through to the end. This f**king napkin script. Maybe that's farfetched, but it's far more believable than the idea anyone greenlit the trash we got. I guess that's a common theme for this movie: unbelievable. My belief is never suspended even for an instant. For example, I can't believe Janeane Garofalo got roped into doing this movie. I mean Luke Wilson, sure, this rote sojourn through the plastic troubles of yuppiedom is par for the course for that hack. But Garofalo's pieces usually have some depth to them--or if not that, at least the semblance of a plot. And what bugged me the most was Natasha Henstridge; not her acting, which is always dry and flat. But it was that she didn't show her tits once the whole damn time. Nothing about this flick hits home; it's popcorn, smeared with dogsh*t. Dogsh*t Popcorn, that's what they shoulda called it.