Well, it all started back in 1977. Dude by the name of Elvis hears about this kid being born,in the great white north of Wisconsin and panics knowing that he is no match for him. So, he gets himself a peanut butter and banana sandwich along with a garbage pail full of opiates and proceeds to gorge himself while sitting on the crapper.
Fast forward a few years, and it's little Eddie's birthday. What does any cool kid want to do on the morning of his birthday? Well, eat some breakfast and watch some cartoons. You know, some Scooby-doo, maybe a little Mighty Mouse. Well, that's great. Except for the fact the he can't. Why you ask? Well, it's because they have nothing but Elvis specials on TV. Now, that right there is just plain wrong.
Speaking of Scooby-doo, they always tried to play Daphne off as the "hot" chick, but I always had Velma pegged as a closet case freak.
So, if you ever wonder why I am the way I am, it's because some dude named Elvis decided to kick the bucket a few hours before I was born.
