GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #292: HAIRY MARY

Back in first grade I had one person I could call a friend. His name was Carl (I will redact his last name on the off-off-off-off chance that he reads this and doesn't want to be named), and he would be gone next year. But that year I saw him open his locker, and I saw a sticker in there. It was grotesque, a gross parody of a Cabbage Patch doll, and according to the text, its name was Hairy Mary.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Garbage Pail Kid," Carl said.

And so I was introduced to the wonderfully disgusting world of Garbage Pail Kids. For the next year I wouldn't shut up about them. I begged whichever adult who was with me whenever we went to 7-Eleven to get me all of the GPK packs, complete with cardboard gum. They might grant me one pack, but never more than that. I amassed quite the collection, which I have somewhere in my basement. My dad loved them, but he said they were today's version of something he called Wacky Packs. This delighted me, and he found his own collection from when he was a kid and gave it to me. I also have those in my basement somewhere.

I should really hunt those down and look at them again. I need a good nasty reminder of how horrible they were to look at. Not too long ago, they tried to make a comeback, and I thought they did an excellent job of updating their usual repertoire. My particular favorites are their Donald Trump inspired ones, which can be perused here. GPK take no sides, so they skewer just about everyone in the 2016 race (except me and Danger_Slater, the cheap bastards), but they're pretty spot-on when it comes to Trump.

Which reminds me. I should probably start ramping up on my 2020 campaign . . .