If ever proof was needed that SICK and DEPRAVED children’s cartoons, games and toys turn sweet innocent young humans into SICK and DEPRAVED PERVERTS then it’s ME.

You heard it! I’m not ashamed to admit that a diet of Garbage Pail Kids and Grange Hill with its flying sausages had undesirable effects on me. I would have been a normal, decent human being if it hadn’t been for these culprits.

Instead, I now find myself living on the cusp of society, the VERY RIM. And why? Because I can’t tell the difference between RIGHT and WRONG! Because nobody ever showed me. Because my parents bought me up on a diet of television, starchy foods and chemical additives, with a pack of Garbage Pail Kids playing cards in my fanny pack.

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, the Garbage Pail Kids are poisonous muck. Visit their site at your own risk. You have been warned.

My Hemorrhoid, by B. McCluskey, aged 27.34

Oh! Little Mountain of misery!
Bleeding bumhole of desolation!
Grape-size lump of fleshy indignation!
Lead me not to the proctologist!

Oh! Little Mound of fleshy Fire!
Scratchy, oozing, digestive mistake!
Veiny flap of ricey discomfort!
Lead me not to the Barium Enema!