Every Sunday, a trio of buds get together at a NYC diner to boast about their sexual conquests of the night before. Sometimes they're joined by a newlywed ex-comrade and hoochie hunter who hangs on them like a puling barnacle. They're unabashed horn dogs/corn dogs and Mia, who witnesses them on the prowl, decides that they need to be taught a lesson, dammit. Ergo, she'll date and dump - why not? All three of them!

Gasp. What a wild idea. What a radical, naughty gal. Women now have the right to date and sleep around as much as they want to. As much as men do, even!

There is one solitary laughable element in "Whipped" - namely the fact that not once, during the amigo's detailed discussions of their bodily functions and the tantric talents of the bed partners they trash, do the other customers in the diner turn around and say, "Dude, we're trying to EAT here." Indeed, a heh-heh gag has an older lady eagerly weigh in on the useful sexual properties of certain beverages. A big fat Kermit the Frog "Sheesh" to that.

It's truly unfortunate that a buddy movie with a great setting, a smart, cute heroine and three possible pairings had to have such a cop-out ending.

P.S. - 30 "whip-oosh" sound effects to the screenwriter for use of the phrase "You go, girl". It was tired in 2000, and it's tired now.

Save your time and watch some "Sex and the City" reruns...