The Fuzztones: She's Wicked

I’ve been reading an issue of this literary journal that has different eastern-European matchbook labels imprinted on the corners of each page. There were about ten pages in a row that featured matchbooks that were for, as far as I could tell, children’s shampoo products. Normally, reading McSweeney’s on the train is a source of nerdish pride, but when you’re spending twenty minutes looking at pages that have mostly-nude little children on them, it makes you feel like some sort of pederast.