What's the Opposite of Funny?

Devoted 12 minutes of my life last night to watching Running Wilde. In retrospect, that seems quite generous.

It was like someone got an old hat and filled it with scraps of paper on which were scrawled stereotypical characters, plot cliches, and over-used narrative devices, then they just started picking them out and arranging them willy-nilly on a corkboard. Then they played beer pong for several hours and rearranged them. Voila!

Will Arnett should be glad that Amy Poehler has her own show.