Ozzie the Wise, Dementia-Stricken Wizard from "Rainbow Ranch"

 

Grocery Store of Broken Dreams

Roses and chocolates for the not-so-happy couple

When it comes to the law, they’re constantly in trouble

Black eyes, long cries, and cocaine covered nostrils

Only broken bones will be found in their fossils

A frozen pizza can feed a family of four

But not when the mother isn’t alive anymore

A single dad with gray hairs and noisy kids

He bottles his anger with the tightest lid

A bag of cheddar cheese sour cream potato chips

Is a fat man’s only friend when his self-esteem dips

He breathes like a windstorm, his T-shirt is damp

But life itself isn’t worth giving a single damn

A bottle of Advil in the hands of a grandma

Looks natural after the loss of the grandpa

A cell phone in her purse the size of a brick

But nobody calls, not even when she’s sick

A price gun in the hands of a check-out clerk

Will get a lot of mileage in this endless work

Take home a skinny paycheck, be a wreck

One dollar away from the homeless trek

Screenwriters, actors, and the bleeding hearts

Are part of this community that’s falling apart

It’s called the grocery store of broken dreams

It’s easier to fail and chow down on ice cream

How am I any different from my fellow shoppers?

I too have a cart full of frozen cheese poppers

I too was a dreamer once upon a long time

I too live in a town where stars never shine

I too have a stomach that stretches my shirt

I too have a mind full of trauma and hurt

I too have a heart that’ll never beat again

I too will never know if I’ll breathe again

Low Bar

You’re still nicer than a murderer in prison

You’re still tougher than a newborn kitten

You’re still smarter than dirty toilet paper

Still more put-together than a meth taker

Still wiser than a screaming kid on a plane

You’re still a better brother than Cain

You’re still a better writer than E.L. James

Still more tolerable than hemorrhoid pain

Still more beautiful than a razor-fanged demon

Still more innocent than a pedophile’s semen

Still healthier than grandpa on his deathbed

Still less ironic than a rapist going to heaven

Still younger than the corpse of Cleopatra

Don’t let these low bars become a distraction

You wanted some good news for once

This is all I’ve got and it was what it was

I’m sorry the universe is working against you

I should say that for the whole earth too

We’re all in this together, are you in or out?

If you do nothing, there’s no reason to shout

Bad days will come and go like everything else

If you’re up for it, let’s storm the gates of hell

Good news won’t come unless we make it so

This opportunity is yours to claim or to blow

"Bart Simpson's Treehouse of Horror: Heebie-Jeebie Hullabaloo" by Matt Groening

If you’re a Simpsons fan and you especially love their Treehouse of Horror episodes, then you’ll have to wait an entire year for the next installment. If on the other hand you don’t have that kind of patience, I recommend buying “Bart Simpson’s Treehouse of Horror: Heebie-Jeebie Hullabaloo”. Goddamn, that’s a long title, but with a short page count. This graphic novel has everything you could ever want in a Treehouse of Horror episode: comedy, fright, and a few intermissions in between. By intermissions, I mean things other than lame-ass, tame-ass auto insurance commercials on TV. Those things would include a mad lib done by different members of the Simpson clan, a spider web of Springfield citizens “cursing” each other, ramblings of the sea captain telling weird-ass stories, those kinds of things. But those are just the intermissions in between chapters. For the actual chapters, you’ve got things that bring chills to your spine more often than a Gracie Films logo with a screaming woman in the background. But while your spine is tingling worse than a spider bite, you might also get a few chuckles to ease the nervous feeling in your tummy. You’ve got Sideshow Bob turning into Sideshow Blob, Springfield citizens being replaced with boring versions of themselves, Bart chasing a naked Homer with a fisherman’s pike, and the very remote possibility that Homer, if he was replaced with a dull version of himself, might not care about professional wrestling anymore. That’s right, Homer! Run those stubby little legs to freedom! We must have pro-wrestling! Actually, he can’t run far without being caught by insane asylum orderlies who try to convince him he’s nuts. Ah hell, it has to be said at some point, so we might as well take advantage of the segue. This whole graphic novel is nuts. And if you need more proof, take a look at the couch gag at the back of the book: the Simpsons laying on the couch with pieces of their bodies falling off and their skeletons visible. It’s a shame that couch gag wasn’t used on TV with the creepy music playing in the background. That would make for some nerve-wracking shit! But since you have to wait a whole year for another Treehouse of Horror episode, just buy this book.

　

***TELEVISION DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***

GRANDPA: Quick! We have to kill the boy!
MARGE: How did you know he’s a vampire?
GRANDPA: He’s a vampire?! AAHH!!

-Simpsons Treehouse of Horror IV-