Ghosts of Girlfriends Past is coming back to haunt me by making me admit I actually spent a few dollars to watch this turd. It’s not like I was expecting much, or anything at all, but it was even worse than the cutsie, beautiful-people romantic comedy I wanted for the evening. I don’t think we went more than 30 seconds without a sex joke or innuendo of some sort, and both Matthew and Michael are just getting too old for these groping roles. Rather than renting this formula movie, might I suggest another Hollywood-type that was a little more fulfilling, Bride Wars or Confessions of a Shopaholic. Enjoy.

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