Who needs the Kwik-E-Mart? I dooooooo…

For me, this summer has been a long slog of movies I don’t care about. (Except “Knocked Up”! Call me Seth Rogan!) I’ve been all “Capt. Jack what? Harry Potter and the Yawns of Yawnington?” Vomity voms.

Ho boy, is that coming to an end on the 27th with the Simpsons movie. Anything could happen! I might camp out, I might dress up. I might skip my cousin’s wedding. (I have a feeling he’ll be ok with it.)

You do not need any examples of how great this movie will be. It will change lives and be required viewing for our children’s children. But just in case you had doubts that these guys were geniuses, listen up. Leading up to this delight, they have turned the 7-11 in Times Square into a Kwik-E-Mart.

I talked friends into going down there with me by singing the Kwik-E-Mart song at dinner. (“Who needs the Kwik-E-Mart. Let’s hurl a brick-e mart. The Kwik-E-Mart is real…d’oh!”) I think they agreed to go just to shut me up. Whatever. I got my way.

Reality and cartoon perfection converged on 42rd between 8th and 9th. They pasted a Kwik-E-Mart sign over the 7-11, had giant Simpsons characters and sold Buzz Cola and Krusty Os (happy birthday, Kevin.)

There was only one small stumbling block/dose of reality/unfortunately quasi-racist moment when the real shopkeeper’s license was posted in the window with his 18-syllable Indian name and someone was like “Oh my God, that must be Apu’s real name!”

Oh, and we also got Squishies. I truly was like when Bart and Milhouse tripped out on them.

The only way to explain my behavior was that I went into a trance. Leaping with a nimbleness I didn’t know I possessed, having my picture taken with Homer and Chief Wiggum.

I also don’t think my friends would have gone if they knew I had a camera with me.