Let’s hear it for the dumb guy
Now that I’ve watched the Scooby Doo Movie at least twenty-four times, including cast and director commentaries, I can thoroughly and embarrassingly conclude that: I always like the dumb guy.
The dumb guy is sweet. The dumb guy thinks you’re awesome. The dumb guy has no idea how goofy he is, all he knows is that you’re laughing and that’s got to be a good sign. He is stoked about making you Bisquick pancakes with frozen strawberries in the morning, and even though they’re heavier than the heaviest thing on the periodic table you are so touched that you eat them and think Hey! These are pretty good! The dumb guy’s feelings are easily hurt. He watches what you want to watch on television. The dumb guy is great in bed.
Why don’t you marry the dumb guy? Because after TV, sex, and pancakes, the dumb guy doesn’t really “get” modern art, he idolizes Donald Trump, and he hasn’t liked a new band since INXS. Naturally, he would go totally psycho when you try to break up with him.
Oh, well. Those were a great three months fifteen years ago, dumb guy, thanks!
Some other stuff we’ve done lately
Watched a house get torn down
Gave Jackson a haircut over the course of a week
Learned that Wonder Woman can do the splits, but then at least one of her legs falls off
Started a poultry farm in the bathroom
Went back in time
And learned that if you give Jackson the camera he will take pictures of you before the coffee’s kicked in