Go for a walk, take a shit, run a bath, have a really good long hard think, read a book, bake some fresh bread, stare at a tree, stare at a wall, masturbate, play solitaire, sit in silence, dance, listen to static, clean out the fridge, learn swearwords in a foreign language, write a short story, stick a finger up your anus, crawl around on all fours pretending you are a dog, reorganise your sock draw, have a good cry, call your mum, start a cult, draw a really good picture, have a glass of tap water, eat some tofu, commit bestiality, shoplift something, do some star jumps, shout really loudly, turn off all the lights, meditate, learn the banjo, examine your testicles thoroughly, mow the lawn, look directly at the sun, go to a concert, stare at an empty stage, chop some vegetables, go on a chat room, listen to running water, make some eggs, crow like a rooster, setup booby traps in the style of home alone for your housemate, watch home alone, smoke a joint, drink some rum, have a tickle fight, play hide and seek, read kicking against the pricks, start a fire, eat sand, lock yourself out of the house just so you have to try and get back in, make farting noises with your armpit, dress up as your old favourite wrestler, eat some fruit, make prank phone calls to random businesses, light a candle then blow it out and repeat, turn the oven on and stick your head in it. ALL of the above are wiser things to do than spend an hour and a half in the company of Adam Sandler and his bumbling moronic pals in this coming of (middle) age abomination of a film. It’s crass, soulless, sickening and wretched filmmaking at it’s very worst.