Just Like You
So I pop Joss Whedon's Serenity into the DVD player. I admire and respect Joss Whedon. How cool is it to invite your cast to your house for a night literally of song and wine, and to end up turning an episode of your comedy into an original musical? My friends just drink beer and play ping pong.
But in Serenity, I identify with the main guy, Mal. We're both ruggedly good looking rogues. We mean well, but don't always do the right thing. Thank God we're both physically fit and have quick draws.
So, anyway, I play the introduction to the movie, and there's Joss, saying some stuff about this being a labour of love. And my 5-year-old daughter looks a the screen and says,
"Daddy! He looks just like you!"
Yeah. Not the ruggedly good-looking Mal. But the pastey white, pudgy, balding, middle-aged dude, Joss. My own daughter said that.
Needless to day, I'm taking her in to the optometrist. I hope she hasn't gone completely blind.
... Well, at least she called him cute.
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