EW's own Dan Snierson likes to make fun of me for thinking I'm always right about everything, but he's wrong — again. I don't think I'm always right. I know I'm always right. So it troubles me when America comes to some sort of consensus that is obviously crazy talk. How can people be so easily duped? I ask myself. Because it couldn't simply be that I could possibly be wrong about something, could it? Could it?!?

Well, at the risk of pissing off the vast majority of you reading this, I now present my list of the most overrated films, TV shows, bands, and other assorted entertainment-related things that have been worshipped and fawned over for way too long. (And I encourage you to do the same by sending in your own nominees at the end of this column.)

Friends
Okay, I'm outing myself. My big secret here at EW is that I've never sat through an entire episode of Friends. Why? Because it was annoying as hell! I believe my hatred of the program stemmed from the fact that it took to the air around the same time I moved to Manhattan after college. I was a blue-haired miscreant living above a drug-front deli in New York's famed Heroin District, while the preppy bastards on Friends had jobs no better than mine yet resided in impossibly incredible apartments and hung out drinking coffee all day. Had I encountered these people in real life, I probably would have walked up to them and punched them in the face...and then gotten the crap beaten out of me because I'm actually pretty weak...but still, why would I want to waste half an hour watching them on television? I also have a personal rule: Whenever a TV character's name becomes the title of a haircut, I'm gone.

Chariots of Fire
One of my proudest accomplishments while working at Entertainment Weekly was getting this movie thrown out of our Best Sports Movies Ever package. This tells you two things: (1) My accomplishments while working at Entertainment Weekly have been few and far between, and (2) People are starting to realize this film is not the outstanding cinematic achievement they believed it to be. Think about it: When you recall Chariots of Fire, what comes to mind? The music, right? What does that tell you — that the most memorable thing about the entire movie is its score? How the hell did this win the 1981 Oscar for Best Picture, beating On Golden Pond, Raiders of the Lost Ark, and Reds in the process? I'll tell you how — that damn music! Freakin' Chariots of Fire! Where's Jeff Probst with his snuffer when you need him?

The Grateful Dead
I don't smoke pot or drop acid, so...

Al Pacino
I don't think Al Pacino always sucked — just for the past 20 years. He was the picture of dead calm in the first two Godfather films, and then dramatically switched gears to play a show-stopping bank robber in Dog Day Afternoon. And who can forget his turn as paranoid, coked-out Cuban drug lord Tony Montana in Scarface? Unfortunately, Scarface seemed to teach Pacino that bigger and louder were better, and the guy has been a major-league scenery chewer ever since. Whether hamming it up in Dick Tracy, pounding tables in Scent of a Woman (a Best Actor Oscar, really?), or trying to out-badass Robert De Niro in Heat, Pacino has lost any sense of nuance or subtlety. One exception: Donnie Brasco, in which he deftly portrayed a sympathetic loser of a mobster. But then he had to go follow that up with another over-the-top performance as — who else? — the devil, in The Devil's Advocate. Pacino is overrated and so is his catchphrase. Hoo-ah? That's the best you got? Hoo-ah?

Pink Floyd
See: Grateful Dead

Pretty Woman
Damn you, Pretty Woman! Damn you to hell for igniting the romantic-comedy craze and subjecting me to endless date-night movies that made me want to stop dating altogether. (Why do you think I got married?) And further damn you for being so unfunny and unrealistic. I hate this movie so much, I would seriously consider placing it above Sharon Stone's Gloria on a list of the Most Annoying Films to Feature a Prostitute With a Heart of Gold. I hate it so much, I can't bring myself to write any more on it because I can feel myself getting hot and tingly like I'm about to transform from Dr. Bruce Banner to the Hulk. Let's move on.

The Clash's London Calling
Okay, let me be careful here. I love the Clash. They were one of my two or three favorite bands growing up, and I still revere them to this day. London Calling is a great album. I remember seeing a Rolling Stone list of the best albums of the 1980s, and London Calling was listed as No. 1. I thought that was so rad, and I reveled in my heroes having the greatest album of the entire decade (even if, technically, it came out at the end of 1979, so its inclusion in said list was a complete cheat to begin with). And I started to believe the hype. But I've noticed something over the years: When I go to put a Clash album on, I'm a lot more likely to grab Give 'Em Enough Rope or the band's self-titled debut than London Calling. There's really no debate that LC is the most ambitious of the three, and features songs like ''Rudie Can't Fail,'' ''Lost in the Supermarket,'' and ''Train in Vain'' that hit on all cylinders. But nothing on it can match the fury of ''Complete Control,'' or the perfection of ''(White Man) In Hammersmith Palais'' (both off the debut). And you won't find a better four-song stretch than Give 'Em Enough Rope's ''Safe European Home,'' ''English Civil War,'' ''Tommy Gun,'' and ''Julie's Been Working for the Drug Squad.'' It seems like critics have been a bit lazy and have decided to throw all their eggs in the London Calling basket, when, for my money, these two other albums have been left out of the discussion. So let's discuss...

Six Feet Under
I can pinpoint exactly where I went from liking to hating this HBO drama: July 18, 2004. That's the airdate of the episode ''That's My Dog,'' in which David picked up a hitchhiker only to then have that hitchhiker pour gasoline on him, stick a gun in his mouth, force him to smoke crack, and do all sorts of other unmentionable things. The violence didn't particularly shock or disturb me, but it had all the subtlety of...Al Pacino! Look at me! Look at me! I'm on pay cable! We're breaking all the rules! Don't you want to talk about me to all your friends at the watercooler tomorrow? Aren't I shocking? No, just disappointing. In truth, Six Feet Under had been slowly heading down this path, ignoring character development for cheap thrills and unrealistic, overblown storylines. But I hung on, because once I'm into a show, it's hard for me to give up on it. With ''That's My Dog,'' I was finally able to cut the cord. Sure, I checked in from time to time after that, but it never brought me back — not even the much ballyhooed series finale. Some people called the finale ''genius.'' Yes, a show ending its run to a montage-based music video: What a radical concept.

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