Shaggy’s joints don’t stay together, but Scooby’s Doobies Doooo!
Shaggy's joints don't always turn out good, but Scooby's foodies do.
It wasn’t him
I saw a shaggy dog on here maybe a month ago. It was about a couple kids in a haunted house. If anyone could put me in the right direction that would be much appreciated
He likes a Scuba do.
Nevermind it wasn’t him
"Rhino!"
"We know you know the answer, Scooby, but it's not your turn."
It yakked on his shoes!
"It wasn't me."
Wasn't me
He’s a great carpet.
and today, we were playing a game of "Yes, Let's!" If you're unfamiliar, that's a group improv exercise where one person says "Let's do a thing!" and everybody else replies "Yes, let's!" and then proceeds to act out the scene. After acting out said scene, somebody freezes, then everybody freezes, and then someone else starts one.
In this case, it was "Let's go to a Michael Jackson tribute concert!" Now, we'd just been coached to assume distinct roles in an attempt to construct a coherent narrative, and so I, as an awkward, scrawny, blond white man, slipped effortlessly into the role of a shitty Michael Jackson impersonator. And I must have been doing something right, because the rest of the group quickly formed a scene as the audience, security, and crew, and stupidity ensued as I sucked at being Michael Jackson for all I was worth.
A few people started heckling, and then one of the audience members barged past security and mimed punching me in the head, whereupon I dramatically spun and dropped to the floor with a resounding THUD (knowing how to fall is a useful skill). The reaction was about a third laughs, a third stage-gasps, and a third just confusion. But I did get a few compliments after the exercise on my impression and my theatrics.
So I'd say that was a pretty big hit.
But as anyone that has worked the night shift knows it can be a long and boring affair. No great threats to defend against. So this knight decided to improve himself, night after night he would bring books to read while he stood guard. Learning languages, math, philosophy. The smarter he gets the more he realizes that he will likely leave the world and be forgotten. In his depression he turns to music, learning instrument after instrument, style after style. Using his knowledge of math to create beautiful patterns and moving songs. He learns that it is they rhythm more than anything that draws people to a song and sets his nights to finding the rhythm that will be universally loved. Now, hundreds of years after his death, people the world over still remember Sir Cadian's Rhythm.
I told her good idea, we can cover more ground that way.
I hadn't put my own picture up on my dating profile, just a picture of my pickup. But that's okay, because she'd just put a picture of her dog. I sent her a message, something almost-clever like "your dog can ride in my pickup any time," and she responded.
We clicked pretty quickly, and started chatting regularly. Every day, sometimes throughout the day. Slowly we learned more about each other. Her dog's name was Daisy. My truck's name was Dodge Ram (I apologized for my lack of creativity). She was a CPA. I was a beekeeper.
And at this, she stumbled. "If we ever meet in real-life, I want you to know that I could never date a beekeeper." But we were still far away from that point, so it was moot.
But time went on, and we gradually became closer to that point. More personal information. What firm she worked for. Where my farm was. Names of relatives. Names of high schools. All the things that just come up in conversation eventually if you talk to someone long enough.
But, oddly, after all this time, neither of us had thought to send any pictures. Until one day I got a message from her: "I never thought I'd say this, but I really do want to meet you in person. I think we have a rare connection, and I don't want to squander it. I want to send you my picture, and I want you to send me yours, but I'm telling you, I can never date a beekeeper."
I couldn't imagine a life without my bees. But I also couldn't imagine a life without her. Tentatively, reluctantly, I clicked on the image attached to her message.
Then I saw her face. Now I'm a bee leaver.
A teenage boy is getting ready to take his girlfriend to the prom. First he goes to rent a tux, but there’s a long tux line at the shop and it takes forever. Next, he has to get some flowers, so he heads over to the florist and there’s a huge flower line there. He waits forever but eventually gets the flowers. Then he heads out to rent a limo. Unfortunately, there’s a large limo line at the rental office, but he’s patient and gets the job done. Finally, the day of the prom comes. The two are dancing happily and his girlfriend is having a great time. When the song is over, she asks him to get her some punch, so he heads over to the punch table and there’s no punchline.
However, there was an issue with getting the preserves into the packaging phase as the manufacturing plant was downstairs and the bottling machinery was upstairs.
After carefully reviewing the process, the group settled on a solution.
They decided to Pump Up The Jam.
So, a few weeks ago, someone posted a pretty long dad joke. Here's mine--it's what my dad would call a "Shaggy dog story".
The dolphin trainers at the zoo were very upset because the dolphins were very ill and getting worse. An animal shaman told them that he could not only cure the dolphins, but make them live forever--all he needed were some young sea gulls. The trainers immediately set off to find some young sea gulls.
While looking for the gulls, a lion at the zoo escaped. The trainers didn't care--they had to save the dolphins. They found their gulls and were making there way back to the dolphin enclosure when they came across the lion. Fortunately, it was dead asleep, having been hit with a tranquilizer dart--but it was right in the middle of the path. So, they carefully stepped across it, and were immediately arrested. The crime? Transporting young gulls across state lions for immortal porpoises.
A few weeks ago, I got a pretty drastic haircut-- it was something akin to a crewcut, when normally I keep my hair relatively shaggy. It had been a few months since the last trim, so I thought I'd try something different.
My mom has never liked my hair when it gets longer, so when I came to visit my folks' home the other night she looked at me, smiled, and said, "Ooh, I like your hair this way."
"Thanks," I replied, "it's growing on me."
Dad: "Is it a Liverpool Beetle?" Me: "I don't know...what do they look like?" Dad: "When they're young they have long shaggy black hair and wear a suit. When they get older they look like hippies but vary..." Me: "Just stop, dad."
"We know you know the answer, but it's not your turn Scooby!"
