At some point in his life, a guy is going to wonder if he's a good role model for young people. Basketball bad boy Charles Barkley once defiantly stated, "I'm not a role model. Just because I can dunk a basketball doesn't mean I should raise your kids." Another time he got right to the chase: "I'm no role model," he said.

English teachers everywhere rejoiced in the admission.

Sometimes I wonder about my abilities as a role model to my five-month-old son, who's just starting to eat puréed green beans as part of his regular diet. I get more confident of my role model status when I look at the heaping portion of healthful legumes on my plate. After all, I eat them all like a big boy should.

I get a little less confident when I look at my desk décor and see a postcard reading "Only in Florida" of a woman in a bikini drinking from a coconut. It's by no means a jab against females in two-piece swimsuits getting liquid refreshment from tropical fruits, mind you — the real concern is the postcard's placement amidst a sea of hundreds of other pieces of paper in the form of press releases, memos, sticky notes and notepads that has me worried about my role model status. My wife will not be pleased if his room looks anything like my desk when he's a bit older.

There's no wondering if the characters played by Paul Rudd and Seann William Scott live up to the title of their new comedy, "Role Models." They don't — at all.

Rudd plays Danny, a man-child of a human being bitter at seemingly the whole world ("I want a large coffee, not a venti one!") who, after 10 years working as a promoter for an energy drink named Minotaur in a position that requires him to drive an extended cab pickup with horns on its top, is questioning the value of his place in this world.

Scott is Wheeler, Danny's skirt-chasing, party animal of a coworker who dresses up in a furry getup that looks somewhere like a cross between Conan the Barbarian and Ferdinand the bull. In other words, he's playing every other role Scott's ever played.

When the two drive their bull truck up onto a horse statue at a school they've just given the least inspirational speech ever to, they're sentenced to do 150 hours of community service at Sturdy Wings, a program pairing up an adult with a child in the hopes of providing a positive adult influence in the little one's life. I think you can see where this is going.

Danny is paired up with Augie (Christopher Mintz-Plasse, aka "McLovin" from "Superbad"), an awkward teen who is most comfortable somewhere in the depths of Middle Earth when he's playing L.A.I.R.E., a Dungeons & Dragons-ish type fantasy game which requires all types of normal people repellants like capes, swords and prompt bowing whenever a guy wearing a plastic crown comes walking by.

Wheeler mentors Ronnie (Bobb'e Thompson), a potty-mouthed child who hasn't lasted more than a day with any of his previous mentors. Basically, Ronnie is the 10-year-old version of Wheeler. That is, he likes to use four-letter words and has a fine appreciation of the female form.

Much of "Role Models" feels like a slew of cheap, raunchy jokes strung together in no particular flow or for any particular reason. Granted, the jokes are often LOL-worthy, if you're the type to laugh at such rude and crude topics as sex, drugs and rock and roll. You've probably figured it out by now, but it should be noted that "Role Models" is not a thinking man's comedy.

The film is fine in its modest quest to get stupid laughs, but it unexpectedly becomes something a bit more at the end, when it seems to have something almost approaching a moral, which seemed to be something along the lines of: Take pride in being yourself, don't be afraid of standing up for your fellow man and good things will happen to you.

Against all odds, this film about a couple of guys driving a Minotaur-vehicle for a living manages to turn into a touching tale of goodwill.

But beyond its unlikely feelings of sentimentality, it never underestimates getting a laugh on a well-placed shot to the crotch.

Joel Sensenig is news editor of the Review Times. He has tried his son's green bean baby food and can see why the child has no problem opening wide as the spoon nears his mouth, particularly since all he's known up to this point is baby formula.