When you care enough to send the very worst...
When visiting my elderly grandmother, there are naturally only so many viable activity choices. She’s 94, deaf as a haddock, slow as creeping Jesus, and rocking a case of ennui so acute that a legion of teen wannabe hipsters should be wearing American Apparel tees with her face on them. Eating with her can be arduous; if she is the one to prepare it, I need to channel Poirot so as to foil any potential latest attempt in her twenty-year quest of finding new and interesting ways of slipping meat into some aspect of the meal. To avoid these shenanigans, I typically choose to take her shopping. While many of the haunts on her Revere/Chelsea/Everett/Helheim circuit both confuse and frighten me, there is one that I look forward to in the same way that one (ok, namely myself) may guiltily anticipate peeling off a scab or excavating an ingrown nail.
Hysil Party Outlet is flawless. In addition to the legitimately good deals on a big array of perfectly normal party supplies, disposable tin baking pans, and holographic Catholic-themed stickers, Hysil is also where dodgy greeting cards go to suffer for their sins. Some of them are so confounding and troubling that I’ve started to wonder if the supply is curated by a Cenobite. So, while my grandmother spent over an hour pouring over assorted sparkly sheisse and miscellany, I decided to take some pictures of some of the more notable terrors.
If your sister or brother married a guy who counts seeking out fantastical beasts like armed conjoined deer amongst his life's passions, this is the card for you. More importantly, if you are related to such an individual, is he aware that this hobby basically makes him the modern, backwoods holler version of a Heracles-like mythological adventurer? If he ever finds himself single, tell him to call me.
I dare you to make even a shred of a case that this wasn't modeled on vintage hottie Jimmy Connors. I can also see a touch of post-plastic surgery Bruce Jenner, which would probably make this a nice card to keep on hand to commemorate his next eventual face lift.
I love that that the inspiration for the cartoon guy was clearly a page from the athletic wear section of an 80s International Male catalog. Adding to the overall Saved By The Bell opening credits theme is the bootleg Sony Sports-edition Walkman and glorious Nike Air Jordan hi-tops. The irony-free, fresh from the Way-Back Machine imagery pairs so perfectly with the disconnected, disinterested greeting (to "a teenager" --- because getting the intended's age or springing for an adjective is for suckers) that it's pretty much the card equivalent of a Top Chef Masters challenge-winning dish.
I have no fucking idea what is going on. I just know that the combination of the amazing Tiger Electronics-looking hand-held game, something I'm going to interpret as a shattering chalet of bacon, and a golden-haired jaundiced MacGuyver ringer throwing a vaguely harassing hand sign makes me want to visit my local Mega Force Recruiting Center posthaste. Unless your godfather is Dolph Lundgren, he possesses nowhere near the level of badassery needed to receive this card.
This probably would have been a great card for Jaime Lee Curtis or Olivia Newton-John thirty years and countless career incarnations ago. Looking at it now, the color scheme just kind of makes me want to suck the salt granules and grease off some McDonalds fries.
Did this card take an inter-dimensional time-traveling detour? I'd like to think that it's for a super-niche post-apocalyptic market made up of intrepid human heroes that will someday bravely fight for our freedom against evil mecha-droid overlords. The capitalized "SOON" adds a little extra urgency, like if the skin grafts and bionic limb replacements don't take, the Decepticons will be able to build up an insurmountable advantage in recipient's absence.
I'm sure that in many this store's customers' glory days, the bobby soxers sure did love swell things like cuddly kittens, tatting doilies, and sighing at pictures of Tab Hunter. I love that this throwback lets the buyer engage in some suspension of current reality, and I'd totally like to listen to some Frankie Avalon albums and bemoan the state of "kids these days" over tea with them.
Between the neckless, derpy warrior with asymmetrical Super Saiyan hair and the listless dragon spewing what looks to be Schnapps-fuled vomit, this one is my favorite. I think it's hammered a few nails into my Conan the Barbarian/Beastmaster loincloth fascination coffin, and for that, I am grateful.
Maybe I should send it a card...
Hysil Party Outlet is flawless. In addition to the legitimately good deals on a big array of perfectly normal party supplies, disposable tin baking pans, and holographic Catholic-themed stickers, Hysil is also where dodgy greeting cards go to suffer for their sins. Some of them are so confounding and troubling that I’ve started to wonder if the supply is curated by a Cenobite. So, while my grandmother spent over an hour pouring over assorted sparkly sheisse and miscellany, I decided to take some pictures of some of the more notable terrors.
If your sister or brother married a guy who counts seeking out fantastical beasts like armed conjoined deer amongst his life's passions, this is the card for you. More importantly, if you are related to such an individual, is he aware that this hobby basically makes him the modern, backwoods holler version of a Heracles-like mythological adventurer? If he ever finds himself single, tell him to call me.
I dare you to make even a shred of a case that this wasn't modeled on vintage hottie Jimmy Connors. I can also see a touch of post-plastic surgery Bruce Jenner, which would probably make this a nice card to keep on hand to commemorate his next eventual face lift.
I love that that the inspiration for the cartoon guy was clearly a page from the athletic wear section of an 80s International Male catalog. Adding to the overall Saved By The Bell opening credits theme is the bootleg Sony Sports-edition Walkman and glorious Nike Air Jordan hi-tops. The irony-free, fresh from the Way-Back Machine imagery pairs so perfectly with the disconnected, disinterested greeting (to "a teenager" --- because getting the intended's age or springing for an adjective is for suckers) that it's pretty much the card equivalent of a Top Chef Masters challenge-winning dish.
I have no fucking idea what is going on. I just know that the combination of the amazing Tiger Electronics-looking hand-held game, something I'm going to interpret as a shattering chalet of bacon, and a golden-haired jaundiced MacGuyver ringer throwing a vaguely harassing hand sign makes me want to visit my local Mega Force Recruiting Center posthaste. Unless your godfather is Dolph Lundgren, he possesses nowhere near the level of badassery needed to receive this card.
This probably would have been a great card for Jaime Lee Curtis or Olivia Newton-John thirty years and countless career incarnations ago. Looking at it now, the color scheme just kind of makes me want to suck the salt granules and grease off some McDonalds fries.
Did this card take an inter-dimensional time-traveling detour? I'd like to think that it's for a super-niche post-apocalyptic market made up of intrepid human heroes that will someday bravely fight for our freedom against evil mecha-droid overlords. The capitalized "SOON" adds a little extra urgency, like if the skin grafts and bionic limb replacements don't take, the Decepticons will be able to build up an insurmountable advantage in recipient's absence.
I'm sure that in many this store's customers' glory days, the bobby soxers sure did love swell things like cuddly kittens, tatting doilies, and sighing at pictures of Tab Hunter. I love that this throwback lets the buyer engage in some suspension of current reality, and I'd totally like to listen to some Frankie Avalon albums and bemoan the state of "kids these days" over tea with them.
Between the neckless, derpy warrior with asymmetrical Super Saiyan hair and the listless dragon spewing what looks to be Schnapps-fuled vomit, this one is my favorite. I think it's hammered a few nails into my Conan the Barbarian/Beastmaster loincloth fascination coffin, and for that, I am grateful.
Maybe I should send it a card...