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The Corpse Came C.O.D.

(1947)

This is a pretty awesome name for a movie, but they completely ruin it by having everyone say it about a hundred times in the first few minutes:

"The corpse came C.O.D."
"His body's out on the service porch. It came C.O.D."
"And get this- the corpse came C.O.D."
"I'd like a vodka & tonic please. The corpse came C.O.D."

Jesus, shut the fuck up. So anyway, this dead body gets delivered to some actress (C.O.D.), so she asks her smarmy reporter friend to help solve the mystery. Meanwhile this chick reporter wants the story too, so she keeps getting in the way and shit. The smarmy guy is pretty busy macking on every piece of ass in sight, but he does find the time to sneak around and punch some people and eventually solve the case. This is basically one of those lame movies that you can't remember anything about two minutes after you're done watching it. Nobody says anything cool, there's no tits, and nothing interesting happens, but at the same time it isn't lame enough to actually piss you off. It's sort of like eating a piece of bread. You're not sorry you ate it, but it's not like you really enjoyed it or anything. I wish I could meet the guy who made this just so I could tell him "Watching your movie was like eating a piece of bread." He'd probably go completely bananas and try to hit me with his iron lung or something. That'd be hilarious.