Garbage Pail Kids? Freakin' A, Right!

Geez. At this rate, I might need to make a segment out of the mystery items my mother keeps delivering from my old bedroom. Every time she hands me a bag, I'm just lost in the memories. 

If you're a little behind on these freaky-deeky flashbacks, catch up by reading The Scent of High School and Dear Diary...You're Embarrassing. It has certainly been a trip seeing "younger Cally" through "older Cally" eyes. 

I think I'm blushing a little.

Anyway, THIS time when my Mom came to visit she brought...

Rock E. Horror and Snooty Sam? Y.E.S!

my entire collection of GARBAGE PAIL KIDS!!! And it's quite a collection, if I do say so myself. But once you get your hands on these crazy cards...well, if you've ever had access to a stack, you know. You know you know.

As soon as my mom handed me the bag of cards, I was completely out of commission for well over an hour.

Sometimes, when my husband is playing guitar, I'll try to talk to him and am met with a blank stare. He's looking at me but clearly not registering anything outside of his music. It took the delivery of the Garbage Pail Kids for me to understand...

I think people were trying to communicate with me during the hour (cough. or two) that I sorted through these cards. I'm sure someone needed something, that things were happening around me, that time was, in fact, passing. But, none of that really mattered, because..well Melton Elton and Sewer Sue were back!

I zoomed back to being 11-years-old and recalled hitting up the local convenience store back in Jers. My mom would be in the beauty shop next door while I'd be trading my $5 bill for a Snickers, the latest Seventeen magazine and as many Garbage Pail Kids packs as I could get with my leftover money.

On my way out of the store, I'd crack open a pack of cards and start gnawing on the pink stick of gum inside- the very same gum that, with its unimaginable hardness, must have contributed to my horrendous TMJ disorder. My jaw is tensing right now with the memory...

And by the time, I'd made it to the beauty shop right next door, the gum would have lost its flavor already. But the cards...oh the cards clearly last forever.

Yup. I actually did this- sorted ALL my cards and matched all the doubles. Dorksville.

I never collected baseball cards, of course. But my cousin, friends and I would trade Garbage Pail Kids constantly. Each trade, done under cover (inside a backpack on the playground) was like some dirty secret adults could never understand.

"I'll trade you my Cheeky Charles double for your Karate Kate. Hurry up with that or no deal. If you throw in the gum, maybe I'll toss in Blake Flake as a bonus. Quick. The recess bell is about to ring!"

The backs of the cards were just as hilarious. 

The concept and timing of Garbage Pail Kids was just perfect, wasn't it? I mean, we were the Cabbage Patch Kids generation, and as soon as we'd handed those ugly Cabbage Patch babies down to our younger siblings, we were met with the much more enticing Garbage Pail Kid humor. 

It was juuuuust right. From cute baby doll love to snot, blood and raw dog humor. What a transition.

Remember how each card had two different names, so you'd have to try to get one of each to complete your collection?

I loved everything about my Garbage Pail Kids, so empowering to my kid self. Yes, we were young - and we might not be able to drive or cash a check yet, but MAN could we laugh. Oh, we got the jokes, understood the innuendos of Peepin' Tom and Bunny Rabbit and felt unity in our sideways snickering.

These were my favorite cards, those I remembered most. It took me a long time to land Janet Planet.

The Garbage Pail Kids were ours, and I am never ever ever getting rid of my collection. However, if you're holding on to a collection of your own, I might still be open to some wheeling and dealing. "I'll give you one of my extra Greased Gregs for a bottle of Pinot Noir..."

Spousal hair pulling is SO not PC these days, but at least they had one for each gender to balance it out.

Now I've sorted and stashed my cards to keep them away from my girls' greasy mitts, but the coolest new ma & pop I know just scrounged up some of Daddy-o's old Garbage Pail Kids and created a completely radical addition for their lil' sweetheart's nursery. Check it out here. I hope that "Leaky Lindsay" is somewhere in that frame, with snot and drool encompassing her entirety. Because, you know...

Spit in your hand and high-five to Garbage Pail Kids. Here's to Generation X. We sure beat out Leave it to Beaver, didn't we? 

Did you have Garbage Pail Kids when you were a kid? Which cards do you remember most?

And P.S. WHOO HOO- There's a new series of 2012 Garbage Pail Kids out now! Can you believe that?!? Check them out here and get lost in the reverie of prepubescence and toilet humor...