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Dear Pip – what was the worst movie ever?

The worst movie ever written, produced, and unleashed upon unsuspecting audiences was Dude, Where’s My Car?.

Forget Plan 9. Forget Dead Alive. These movies were, admittedly, horrific, but neither captured the almost malevolent shittiness of Dude, Where’s My Car?.

And Dude had no excuse. It had stars (well, quasi-stars, anyway), hot girls, and money – these elements alone should have been able to pull me through a passable hour and a half.

But no — I had to watch Dude in installments, to keep from choking upon my own bile.

If I ever had to choose between watching this movie again and masturbating with sandpaper –well, I’d probably go with the movie, but only after careful consideration.

Dear Pip: How does one move through a dance club while avoiding the risk of engaging in physical combat?

The proper way involves a technique known in the industry as the “suspended hand-chop.” The walking-through-nightclubs industry, that is.

The suspended hand chop involves holding one’s forearm parallel to the torso, with your hand directly in front of your right eye (southpaws may reverse this). The hand itself has the first two fingers extended fully, and the other two lightly sinking towards the floor (this avoids the impression that you are waving at somebody). Relax your fingers so that you’re not accidentally mistaken for somebody who knows wing-chun.