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Bully for this bully comedy?

Nope. But at least young victims of school bullies now have a movie to point to that’s purportedly telling their sad/funny story.

Three freshmen — Ryan (Troy Gentile), Wade (Nate Hartley), and Emmit (David Dorfman) — are hassled on their first day of high school by Filkins, the psychopathic school bully (Alex Frost) whose mission in life is to sniff out dorks and do them harm.

By the second day, however… things get even worse. And will obviously continue to as the curriculum now features daily beatings and humiliations. So, in need of protection, they place an ad for a personal bodyguard in Soldier of Fortune magazine.

Come for the games, but stick to the safe bets on the menu (like burgers and fries).

What happens when an insipid waitstaff gets in the way of margaritas and delicious tres leches cake? You get one angry Undercover Eater.

Jalisco-style taqueria that’s not for the shy.

A taste (or is it a shot?) of New Orleans’ Bourbon Street.

Aside from offering pizzas with wacky names, Rockin’ Tomato’s menu also includes burgers, hoagies, pasta, calzones, and a fairly good salad bar. Stop by the South Lamar location on Wednesday nights if you’re in the mood for karaoke.

A few days ago, following a rousing game of badminton, Vivica claimed she was famished and, alas, wanted to dine on “common food.” After an hour-long discourse about the merits of Sauvignon Blanc paired with a dynamite Neufchâtel, I decided I would allow her to have her way. So we climbed into our elegant Audi A8 and drove to the feces-ridden bowels of Austin to dine with the less ambitious.

We ruled out those establishments whose doors were decorated with slumbering, uncouth vagabonds, and then we made our way to what I assumed was a quaint bistro specializing in truffles: the Mellow Mushroom.

After paying $5 to park at the neighboring lot — without valet service, I unfortunately must add! — Vivica and I were taken aback by the combination of boisterous college students, a ghostly looking waitstaff, and an all-too-lifelike statue of Willie Nelson kayaking down a waterfall (hopefully toward a barber shop).

Vivica, of course, seemed to take delight in partaking in this plebeian adventure, claiming her au pair often took her to McDonald’s when she was a child, but I remained skeptical. For one, certain items on the menu did not fit the cost pattern of normal restaurants. Now, I for one am all for taking sensible risks in my business ventures, but charging $4.20 for a mammoth-sized soda seems far too liberal for my taste.

What an odd number, I thought as Vivica and I carefully analyzed the colorful and festive menus, which featured bizarre illustrations that reminded me nothing of the New Yorker cartoons that provide me with such hearty guffaws over Sunday morning brunch.

I could not believe some of the names of the items on the menu: Kosmic Karma, The Magical Mystery Tour, and an entire section dedicated to “munchies.” It was as if these simpletons were appealing to the lowest common denominator by employing “witty” slang, popular-culture references, and crude alliteration. Nonetheless, I ordered a large chicken pizza for myself and a fresh garden salad for Vivica, with hopes that the chef could make up for an ambiance that so embraced the dreaded counterculture.

But what happened next really ruffled my feathers.

Vivica and I were in the midst of discussing the details of our post-divorce settlement when the troll-like waitress brought our plates to the table. Assuming our meal would soon follow, I promptly tucked my napkin into my ascot and waited patiently for the food to arrive.

Ten minutes later, while Vivica and I strained for conversation, I witnessed our waitress pantomiming the playing of a bass guitar. Twenty minutes later (and still foodless), over half a dozen rough-neck fraternity lads entered and made more noise than our neighbors’ cocker spaniel. Ten minutes after that, our waitress waltzed over to say that our food would be right out. She then returned to the kitchen, where I can only assume she continued fornicating with rebellion.

Finally, a full 45 minutes after ordering, our meal arrived. Despite burning my tongue after the first bite, I must say the Mellow Mushroom can concoct a delectable pizza. Spring-water dough combined with bold flavorings and well-seasoned chicken created quite a cornucopia of flavor.

Vivica actually spent the majority of our dining time in the restroom crying over a comment I made concerning her mother and a certain nautical expression, so I feel confident in giving her garden salad two thumbs up as well.

The bill came, and though the waitress was unwilling to break a thousand dollar bill, I was able to find enough change from Vivica’s purse to cover our $20 meal (plus a 63-cent tip).

On the whole, I felt $20 was a fair and reasonable price — even a bargain — to pay for a night of “common food.” I don’t even pay the kind Puerto Rican man who trims my hedges that kind of money.

Cheap drinks bring in cheap customers.

Closed on Mondays, LaLa’s Little Nugget is a quiet, dark place where the liquor drinks are strong and you can still smoke a cigarette if you damn well please. They have pool and a jukebox that favors Oldies.

Also, it’s perennially Christmas inside. The myth goes that after serving several tours in Viet Nam, the owner’s son was flying home just in time for Christmas, having completed his duty to his country. They decorated the bar anticipating his return, but his plane crashed before making it to America. The Christmas decorations were never taken down.

The eccentricities of the regular clientele coupled with the surreal ambiance of the place make this bar a beautiful oddity where everyone should have a drink at least once.

Drink and dance, preferably in that order, at this three-level, “upscale,” 18-and-up club.