He goes, “They go to bed with Napoleon Dynamite, but they wake up with Jon Heder.”
Don’t forget, he’s also just a boy, standing in front of you … asking you to love him.
It’s my fault for thinking about sex with Napoleon Dynamite in the first place, I will grant you that. But now I can’t stop thinking about it, like, how sad that he probably has to think about this concept like, while he’s doing it. “Does she want me for me? Or is it all about the Dynamite?”
Like how Shafer used to say that if you were going down on Macaulay Culkin and stopped at the last second and refused to continue until he put his hands to his cheeks and did the O face, that would be like the best possible thing. Like you would go to celebrity heaven.
I think that having to admit that really you wanted to fuck Napoleon Dynamite because he believes in the power of the Pegasus and that Nessie is our Underwater Ally — and that Jon Heder, by comparison, is kind of a boring pothead with crazy teeth — that is celebrity hell. Nobody looks good in that scenario.
I have spent a lot of time worrying about Jon Heder’s career — and apparently sex life — for a person who has seen him in exactly one movie, ever, which I didn’t see until today.