If the latest Rocky sequel, Britney’s "crazy monkey", and Rosie O’Donnell’s Ching-Chong Meltdown aren’t enough to convince you that the apocalypse is nigh, then try to wrap your mind around these two words: Rambo. 4.

Yup, he’s back – tanned, rested, botoxed beyond all recognition, and armed to the teeth. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve spent the two decades since the last Rambo movie not thinking about how much I missed Stallone’s drooling, dropping visage leering out at me from the Coke-stained screen of my local multiplex. Because I don’t. Apparently, though, there is an audience for ghastly, ancient, steroid-cases, as long as guns and explosions are involved.

The saddest thing about this whole sorry mess? The Weinstein’s are actually going to the mat to assert their rights of first refusal to this steaming pile of reheated excrement. Et tu, bros?

Again: apocalypse. I better start practicing for the end times war with the latest Left Behind religious intolerance training software video game. I’d advise you to do the same.

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