Death Ray Rants: ghost cars and Scooby snacks

“Seriously, can the kids just solve the mystery of the fucking ghost car, already, so that Scooby-Doo can get some Scooby snacks and we can all go home? I mean, usually, I’d deal with it for the length of a short story. But no. It rambles on for SIXTY PAGES.”*

…Mr. “Death Ray” Ashby assures me that the writer of this particular story is deceased, and thus can’t be angry with me for posting this rant. But you can see now why he has avoided blogging, thus far. Hidden beneath his rather taciturn Canadian exterior is a heart of pure ice.

“Just the thing the Internet needs,” he tells me, “yet one more person filling up space with long, bitter rants about the elements of popular culture that they don’t like.”

You see? He’s positively Snapely. It’s great.

*Technically, it’s only fifty-two. We checked. “God, it feels so much longer,” says Mr. Ashby.

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