So, Papa Joe might find me and kill me (or send out a swat team of lawyers). But I don’t care. I’ll put it bluntly, and to him: “Papa Joe, your family is hideous, and you’re to blame.”

I hate thinking about the Simpsons. I try not to think about them. Ever. But when I do think about the Simpsons, and conjure up their faces in my mind’s eye, it makes me want to stab my actual eyeballs with needles or a really sharp knife. Since I like my eyes, and appreciate all that they do for me (good jobs, eyes!), I try to avoid images of the Simpson clan. Nevertheless, the girls appear on a lot of my magazines and are picked on at most the blogs I surf every day. Inevitably, I am forced to think about them, even look at them.

I’m sure some of you think I’m being unduly harsh when speaking in such venomous tones. Indeed, the Simpson camp would agree with you. So, by all means, go ahead and join that nest of vipers. But I can’t help being critical. In my mind, they rank up there with the worst of the Hollywood hacks, a close tie with Parasite Hilton or Lindsay Blohan.

OK, that’s hyperbolic, as I am thinking of more counter-examples myself, not to mention that the Simpsons, like Lohan, are in a different category than Hilton types, who were born, literally born, with golden spoons in their . . . well, you get the point.

These days, the competition to make it to the realm of beyond-pitiful is steep. Nevertheless, my dislike for the Simpsons is extremely intense. When did it all begin? Let’s see, I remember that “innocent” reality show . . . aaaaah, yes, The Newlyweds. That guy, Nick Lachey . . . that’s when he was in the picture, too. But Papa Joe effectively cut him out, didn’t he? Read More »