Folk ar…aaaaaaaahhhHHHH

Look, I grew up mere miles from Sutter Street and Denios; I went to a hippy-dippy preschool run by the hippiest and dippiest people you could ever hope to met (who were lovely); I was around in the late 70s/early 80s — the stacks of Family Circle were tall enough to use as furniture. And don’t get me started on Apple Hill. The point is, I am fine with folk art.

But applehead dolls are fucking terrifying.

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