The Boy in Blue, my Bad Lieutenant.
You are my National Treasure.
With just one Vampire’s Kiss
My mind Drives Angry with pleasure.

Oh how I want you, Nicolas Cage.

It’s the Season of the Witch and the Season of love,
Let’s Wed, I’ll sign all the pages.
We’ll stand at the alter like a Face/Off.
Let’s have our Honeymoon in Vegas.

Oh how I want you, Nicolas Cage.

We’re just two Fire Birds mad for each other,
Your presence leaves me Moonstruck.
I feel like a Valley Girl in a City of Angels
Every time we go to bed and kiss.

Oh how I need you, Nicolas Cage.

Lord of both War and the bedroom,
You’re as steady and strong as The Rock.
Do what you wish, anything at all,
As long as you let me Bangkok…Dangerous.

Oh, just not the bees, Nicolas Cage.

Trapped in Paradise,
With no intention of escape.
Wait, you aren’t Leaving Las Vegas, are you?
I need to get some tape.

Oh I won’t let you leave, Nicolas Cage.

But you are already out the door,
Heading Red Rock West.
You were Gone in Sixty Seconds,
The Birdy has left the nest.

Oh how I miss you, Nicolas Cage.

The Weather Man, The Wicker Man,
He’s as good as gone as dead.
Now I’m alone and all I can do
Is pretend you’ll Ghost Ride me instead.

Oh how I miss you, Nicolas Cage.
Oh how I lost you, Nicolas Cage.
Oh how I loved you, Nicolas Cage.
Oh, and I really liked Con Air.

by Evan Roder

What was once considered simply an “Oedipus Rex” complex has recently developed into an explanation much more reasonable. Researches at MANswers University have concluded that the reason the famous psychologist Sigmund Freud tried to justify his infatuation with his mother as an inborn natural instinct was because his mom was actually a “total babe”. He then tried to pass off his disgusting urge as a biological norm.

Researcher Chuck Abignale, at MU, was quoted as saying, “Dude, if she was my mom, I’d need to become a psychologist to justify my wicked boner for my mom! Me want breastmilkl Know what I’m saying?! Party! Beer bong! Pussy!”

Due to this being the procrastination article, we must end the story here. (Also, I didn’t have time to finish it…)

If you’d like to finish it, feel free, then post this as a comment on the website!

In yet another inauspicious even in the nature world, colonies of bees worldwide have begun to rape and pillage flowers across the country. The rumors have been “buzzing” since the first raids began, but we still do not have any concrete evidence as to why these bees have been so busy (raping and pillaging flowers).

(Editor’s Note: We apologize to any who have been offended by the awful “buzzing” pun used earlier in the article. This was a poor effort on the writer’s part, and we have since punished him, “Wicker Man” style. No, not the bees. We have replaced him with a less punny writer, who will continue the issue where we last left off.)

This display of “pollunconsensual sex” has yet to be addressed by the government, despite numerous requests to do so.

(Editor’s Note: We again apologize. We punished this last writer for his “pollunconsensual sex” pun by making him watch “The Wicker Man”. Yes, the bees. On account of too many shitty puns, we instead will leave you with this quote from one of the accused bees.)

“Buzz buzz buzz, buzz buzz buzz buzz. Buzzzzz.”

There is no meaning to life. If one were to attempt to conjure up a meaning to help give closure, I would argue the meaning of life is to try to forget that every day we are slowly dying.

The most popular way for most Americans to do this is by surrounding ourselves with unneeded material possessions and a plethora of entertainment. These distractions keep our minds off of our inevitable mortality, and instead divert our attention towards subjects such as reality television and sports. Why do you think most people before our time died so young? It was not because of a lack of advanced medicine, but rather a lack of entertainment. Without television or films, the uneducated had nothing to consume their time, so they had no need to carry on with their dull and uninteresting lives.There is no such thing as dying of old age. Only dying of boredom. It still happens today. After you retire, you have nothing to do all day but watch soap operas. Have you watched a soap opera recently? They are boring as shit. I’d beg to “die of old age” after watching “As The World Turns.” Even the title sounds boring. That show should be a science program on PBS.

I can only hope that by the time I am older, Television will be so entertaining that I will become immortal. However, judging on how television is currently, I think I am terminally ill.
Think about everything you do in your life. It is almost all geared towards avoiding your own mortality. Going to school gets you a job, which in turn gets you money to purchase material possessions to overwhelm your senses and make your tune out the voice in your head telling you that you are past your prime, all your dreams will go unrealized, and that if you went back in time to visit your past self, you’d make the kindergarten version of you cry in disappointment.

Even something as simple as dating has ulterior motives. We date to prepare us for relationships in our future that may lead to marriage, so we can have children, to carry on our names and build a legacy after we die. This is the only way for man to find immortality. Through the passing on of a last name. It is a sexist society we live in where the woman do not have such a right.

The concept of religion serves as a similar tool for us. It gives us the promise of an afterlife, so people do not fear death as much. Lying to ourselves about how there is a magical world where we get to have sex in a cotton candy cloud is only a slight exaggeration of the promises religion offers us. 90% of the world is religious, because we are a fearful people. The cause of most wars is over religion, because if a different religion is claiming to be correct, that means the one you worship is wrong and you don’t get to masturbate in a bathtub of caramel and melted marshmallow. As you can see, if I believed in heaven, my vision would probably involve an abundance of sex and food.

So I write this not to bum you out, but rather to SEVERELY BUM YOU OUT. Life sucks, and at the end of the journey, at least there is eternal darkness and silence. Oh, but you don’t get to experience the silence because you have no senses. Everything would be nothing to you. Have a good day!

“Mommy, don’t leave me! Please Mommy, don’t leave me! I promise I’ll be better! I promise! Please!”

Johnny Freeman, a 6 year old child from Akron, Ohio, recently had yet another tragic event occur in the dreadful series of misfortunes that is his life. Three weeks after his dog was run over by a Hummer H3, Johnny’s mother walked out on him, claiming she was “tired of his whiny attitude.”

Johnny, accused by his mother of whining of the deaths of both his dog, and less recently his father, had been inconsolable over the last few months.

His father, also run over by a Hummer H3, was left only as a body with a flattened pancake of bone, brain, and blood where his head once was. Because of a previous request before his death, he demanded his wake to be open-casket. After seeing his father’s then-solidified mushskull, Johnny became mute for seven weeks.

Without a mother, father, or dog, Johnny dropped out of school, and entered the workforce. He is currently employed at Little Boys Loving, Inc., a company dedicated to providing boys with the love their parents could no longer give, and give older men an orifice that is “tight, right, and out of sight.”

Despite being considerably tighter than most little boys, Johnny has reportedly been dissatisfied with his current job. Thanks to the aid of the older men, Johnny has been constantly full and filled, yet he has claimed to not be “fulfilled.” This could be because he is a whiny brat, who never seems to have enough.

While we here at The Grain Dealer are not trying to just pile on to Johnny, after learning more about him, it isn’t hard to explain why his mother left him. Maybe if he was able to learn to accept life’s randomness more, and not dwell on the past, he would still have a mother who loved him. Instead, he whined like a whiny person who whines a lot, and now he is an orifice orphan. It’s hard to find sympathy for someone who deserved everything that happened to him. Oh, and he’s really ugly too.

by Karl Peterson

“Do you know hard it is to inject heroin into your veins when you have a whiny brat begging you to take him to soccer practice? Pretty hard! I don’t know how I did it. All I know is that he was a pain. I’m glad I cut my losses and ditched him. Now I can finally be who I always wanted to be: A happy person!”
-Johnny’s Mother

Whether it be a desperate plea for attention, or the yearning to no longer feel pain, suicide hurts more than just the victim. That is, except for in the case of Wallace Johnson.

Wallace Johnson, a 36 year old unemployed former school teacher, ended his life last Saturday. The significance of this is the lack of significance. Johnson was reportedly unloved by everyone in his life, including his own family.

Wallace was found hanging from a dead tree in his backyard, and was left there for about three days before anyone called the authorities to report it. He lived alone, but his neighbors claim to have noticed the limp body swaying back and forth, but just assumed it was a decoration or something. Clarence Stump, his next door neighbor, was quoted as saying, “I saw something on a rope from a branch, but I didn’t really wanna go check it out. I was never close with Wallace. I imagined it would be kind of hard to be close with him. He just seems so dull! Plus, there was an “Ugly Betty” marathon on the TV Guide channel so I didn’t wanna get up off the couch.”

Unfortunately for Wallace, his suicide did not go quite as planned. After examining the scene, it was concluded that Wallace attempted to kill himself in multiple other ways that evening, but failed repeatedly. He tried overdosing on pills, but fell asleep. He attempted to shoot himself with a gun, but he couldn’t afford any bullets. He then tried to eat himself to starvation with celery, but got bored. (Apparently, celery has negative calories, so it could hypothetically be possible. I suppose…) It wasn’t until he found a rope, already on the tree outside, that he ended his life.

His mother, Jill Johnson, had this to say. “It’s not that he ever did anything wrong. I just couldn’t love him. It definitely wasn’t his fault or anything. I just knew, when I first saw him squeeze out of my expanding vagina, that I wouldn’t love him. He just has an unlovable air about him. Like I said, totally not his fault, but he just wasn’t that special.”

His father had a similar opinion. “Look, he was a sweet boy and all, but he just wasn’t that great. He didn’t really have any talents. People like to say that everyone is best at something, or at least good at something. Wallace was not at all. He wasn’t even good at killing himself! It took him four tries! And I don’t know if you read the suicide note, but it has grammatical errors on it!”

Wallace had many rough times before he finally built up the courage to hang himself. In June, Wallace lost his job as a kindergarten teacher after several complaints from parents that their children “Were beginning to worry they would become unlovable too when [they] grow up.”
After this, his girlfriend Alicia broke up with him. This was because she found him dull and uninteresting, and the “pityfucking was beginning to grow tiring and sad.” Alicia then went on to sleep with Wallace’s much more successful and lovable brother, Daniel, who she is currently engaged with. She also says she loves him very much. Unlike Wallace.

Wallace’s funeral was held in the backyard of his house, and no one attended. Since no one
prepared the arrangements for the funeral, and he is still currently hanging from the same tree he was found on. Authorities tried to contact his friends and family to get them to take care of the funeral, but in his contacts section of his phone, the only number found was a suicide prevention hotline, which he called, and was subsequently hung up on, out of disinterest on behalf of the recipient.

We here at The Grain Dealer also do not care about Wallace, but we have been ordered to write this obituary on him, as punishment for insulting numerous citizens of Cleafland.

by Daniel Johnson

Wallace’s Suicide Note

To Whom it may concern, (“Whom” meaning “No one”)

I have decided to end my life. This is because no one has ever loved me, and I no longer wish to try to pursue love. My life is meaningless, and I see no reason to live. My will is still here, but no one else has the will to see me alive. If no one wants me here, I shall not occupy this earth, and take up space in lines at grocery stores.

With sincere and unrequited love for all,

Wallace Johnson

Anthony, a former fraternity member and douchebag, screamed multiple times that he was too cool for school, and no one came to his aid. One anonymous person named Michelle Plunk stated, “Why would I help [Anthony]? He’s a doucher. He’s saying he’s too cool for school. Maybe if he wore more than just a thin frat T-shirt and athletic shorts, and wore a non-flat brim hat that covered his ears, he’d be a little warmer. I wish he’d just die.”

Fortunately for Michelle, and many others, he died of hypothermia. His declaration of being “too cool for school” was more than just bragging. Listed below is his will, which he requested to be revealed publicly.

Tony’s Will and Shit

To my broskis:
My flat brim hats
My “Nati’s”
My oversized monster pick-up truck
My Nickelback CD’s
My Tank Tops
My food, to smash on

To my girl:
My dick

To my family:
Fuck yourself

Last words: “You know Michelle, it would be pretty awesome to die while getting a blowjob.”

Edgar Allen Poe

Edgar Allen Poe’s death was peculiar, because he was found dead in someone else’s clothes. He was also yelling the name, “Reynolds” while walking through the street, although no one knows who that was. If I had to guess, I’d say he was looking to strangle Ryan Reynolds after he saw “The Green Lantern.” (To avoid making this article dated, just replace “The Green Lantern” with any other film he has made. Examples: The Change-Up, Van Wilder, Just Friends, Waiting, X-Men Origins: Wolverine.)

Rating: 5/16

F. Scott Fitzgerald

After years of alcoholism, F. Scott Fitzgerald suffered multiple heart attacks. Then, after eating a candy bar, he had another heart attack and died. Those fucking Take 5’s keep taking lives. They are so good though. (I won’t die for my country, but I will die for the orgasmic combination of peanut, peanut butter, caramel, pretzel, and chocolate. That doesn’t make me a coward, but it does make me really fat.)

Rating: B-

Ernest Hemingway

Hemingway ended his life by shoving the barrel of a shotgun into his mouth, and pulling the trigger, spraying his brains all over the place, making quite a mess for the person who had to clean him up. That’s kind of rude. Some believe the death to be an accident, which is very possible because he loved performing oral sex on his weaponry. (Seriously, anyone who thinks it was an accident should go ahead and accidentally shoot themselves in the mouth too.)

Rating: 7+

Sylvia Plath

SHE PUT HER HEAD IN A FUCKING GAS OVEN.

Rating:A+

By Henri Leopold Stein and Gertrude Ginsberg

As the great Odilon Redon once said, “Get off your fucking phone when you are looking at my paintings.”

One man from Cleafland has clearly never heard of Odilon Redon, and has even more clearly never been to an art museum before.

Randall McLaughlin, a resident of Cleafland, embarrassed both himself and his family during a visit to the Cleafland Museum of Modern Art. This came only days after he embarrassed them at The Cleafland Zoo, The Shakewood Aquarium, and the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum.
McLaughlin allegedly was talking on his phone while in a room devoted to Eighteenth Century European Oil Paintings, and again while in a room filled with African Sculptures and pottery. Both times the security guard asked him to shut off his phone or leave the museum. He did not.
Randall also was quoted as saying, (Regarding Piet Mondrian’s “Composition With Yellow, Blue and Red”) “I don’t understand this. Anyone could just draw some squares and color them. How is this art?”

In addition to the aforementioned quote, Randall again embarrassed his company by loudly saying, “Why is it called the Museum of Fine Art? It’s better than fine, it’s actually pretty good!”

We asked his family to comment, but they claimed to not know Mr. McLaughlin.

By Mary Lynn-Bukowski

BONUS CONTENT!

Fun fact:The Cleafland Museum of Fine Art was founded in 1973, and was created with the hopes that obnoxious men would not come in and talk on their phones or act like dicks. Also, they wanted to be able to provide the people of Cleafland with a way to appreciate art. I guess both things were kind of a big deal.

Quotes from the Family:

“My dad sucks so much. I can’t take him anywhere without embarrassing both me and my family. I don’t know what I should do, but I feel like I want to become a whore to piss him off.”

Tessa McLaughlin, Daughter

“His disrespect for art makes it hard for me to respect our marriage, which is why I always make love to his coworkers and siblings. His brother is so much better in bed, and his sister isn’t bad either.”

Laura McLaughlin, Wife