"#ThatsMyBoy is what happens when you soup up a trash compactor packed with Indian food, diapers and discount copies of the Twilight series."

That was my 140-characters-or-less reaction after seeing "That's My Boy," Adam Sandler's new comedy (an adjective I'm using very loosely). For the sake of your eyes and my continued employment, I won't share the more elaborate description I gave on Facebook.

I will, however, share some more fitting adjectives while I reconcile myself to the fact that I'll have to eventually use complete sentences to describe this cinematic skidmark: insipid, asinine, ludicrous and implausible.

Those $10 words are the smartest thing associated with this flick, which plays out like it was written by Sandler's idiot manchild, Donny Berger – the younger version. "That's My Boy" opens on teenage Donny who gets caught up in a Letourneau-esque affair with his teacher (played by Eva Amurri Martino, and later by Susan Sarandon). She ends up pregnant and incarcerated, and Donny gets saddled with taking care of their son. He also becomes inexplicably famous, landing TV appearances, magazine spots and loads of cash.

Cut to present day: washed-up Donny is broke and desperate, and little Han Solo Berger is all grown up and long estranged from his boob of a father. The younger Berger (played by Andy Samberg) has changed his name to Todd Peterson, landed a lucrative job and is just about to marry fiancee Jamie (Leighton Meester) when Donny tracks him down.

Your typical recipe for comedic idiocy, "That's My Boy" over-capitalizes on fish-out-of-water comedy and envelope-pushing shock humor. It plays all the same cards as past Sandler ventures – there are brief glimpses of his comedic glory years – but there's nothing subtle about this new addition. The characters are base stereotypes and the jokes are shallow, catering to an audience of basement-level intelligence. There are a few legitimately funny moments, but they're suffocated by the sheer volume of low-hanging laugh fodder.

"That's My Boy" is a Frankenstein's monster of everything that used to be good about Sandler's comedy. It's not worth the materials they used to make it, much less your money. Rent it if you must, but you're better off skipping it altogether. Your brain cells will thank you.