What's Not Worth 8 Bucks?

...watching Paris Hilton die apparently. I know the overall suck factor of House of Wax is old news. But any movie review that starts like this is worth a read:

House of Wax is about as enjoyable as a Saturday morning hangover. And I’m not talking about one of those sissy gin & tonic hangovers that fade after a glass of orange juice and an Eggo. I’m talking about that hangover you get when you and some friends decide it’s a swell idea to drink malt liquor and smoke two packs of Camels and a fatty. And when you wake up in the morning, your Colt .45 burps are stripping the lining of your throat and your mouth tastes like someone else’s ass. Oh, and when you finally manage to open your eyes, that mustachioed woman from your office is lying next to you and you’re wearing her Granny Panties as a necklace. That’s what kind of hangover I’m talking about, folks. And if I had to decide between leaving a kiss-off note with the circus freak from the cubicle three and crawling out of her bedroom with her undies still tied around my neck, or watching House of Wax again, I’d probably opt for the former, because at least I wouldn’t feel as dirty as I did walking out of the theater today. -Pajiba.com

Ouch....It's a sad state of affairs when reading the review is more enjoyable than the movie itself.