SCOOBY POO!

Scooby Doo came on telly the other day. I used to love cartoons when I was a kid, Tom and Jerry, Daffy duck, Speedy Gonzales that kind of thing. But my favourite had to be Scooby. All those adventures with monsters and werewolves that turned out to be the caretaker or the bank manager. Those meddling kids solved more cases than Hercule Poirot. I used to think how cool it would be to drive round America in The Mystery Machine. Good against evil…but now I’m older…. can you imagine the smell of the van? Four dropouts and a huge dog in the back? Stink like a cess pit on a hot day. And the four of them never change clothes do they? what a mess. The Scooby snacks are probably laced with L.S.D if Shaggy hasn’t taken it all (can anybody tell me is Zoinks really a word? The beatnik says it on every show) and a dog that can talk, well, sort of. Half the time you need subtitles to understand the beast. And how could they afford all this? Petrol, food, it all costs and don’t forget the vets bill. Cartoons….Stupid….