Welcome back to Junkfood Cinema; we ain’t got time to bleed. Ah the internet, home to some of the finest intellectual minds and cutting edge commentary on…the internet. Sadly, you sailed right over the cerebral foie gras and caviar of online film columns and wound up at the internet equivalent of Stuckey’s. And not even a fine, upstanding Stuckey’s just outside of Orlando with troves of cheap Disney merchandise to accompany your pecan log omelet. We here at Junkfood Cinema are more in the ballpark of a Stuckey’s in Pineview, Georgia smashed between a gas station still offering leaded fuel and a more-than-slightly questionable bookstore. Every week I play the role of the waitress who looks unnervingly like an ill-fed Andre the Giant serving up the only item on the menu: terrible films. I will skewer and deep fry the film before lovingly drizzling a rich sauce of terrifyingly genuine love across its still-steaming carcass. Once your faces are adequately stuffed, and the only sound you hear is glass shattering as the buttons on your pants jettison across the room and decimate our collection of antique grease jars, I will serve dessert in the form of a snack food item made only slightly more palatable in juxtaposition to the film to which I have subjected you. Today’s Blue Plate Special: The Dorm That Dripped Blood

Imagine Steven Spielberg’s Munich, only replace the Jews with women in their thirties and the Arabs with teenage slackers. Oh, and they all like to sing and dance. Welcome to the world of Karaoke Terror.