The great thing about the Internet is that everyone has a voice and everyone is equal. The really shitty thing about the Internet is that everyone gets a voice and everyone is equal.  In this new series, Worst of the Internet, I’m going to expose the online behavior of those poor, dumb bastards that you never see in real life, but somehow collectively dominate cyberspace.  In this edition, we’re going to look at Fanboys and their desire to draw, paint, or create art to express their uncomfortably pseudo-erotic, co-dependent, Single White Female love of their idol.

So here then is some of the worst and often disturbing Fan Art from the Internet. [Read Column]

Knock.  Knock.

I was six years old playing downstairs in my grandma’s house in Stillwater, OK.  My brother was upstairs watching TV … probably Robotech.  My mother and my grandma were out, either at class or work.  I sat there with my naive, little kid brain wondering what I should do.  I opened the door.

Standing there, with the screen door already open, were two Chinese men.  Two Chinese men that embodied every Asian stereotype ever conceived.  Thick glasses, mismatched suits in 100 degree weather, and pants that were three inches too short.  To make things worse, they both bowed upon my appearance.  I’m surprised they didn’t have a bowl of noodles and chopsticks as well.

Rather, they were holding Bibles and religious leaflets.  They ask me in English more broken than Gary Busy’s psyche to come inside and tell me about Jesus.

So … I let them in. [Read Column]

America has had a rough decade.  Since 2001, our country has been a community piss pot at a Tijuana hump-hump bar.  Every time we think we’ve turned a corner and all the of the bad shit that has befallen us either by bad circumstance or our own shortsightedness – fate finds another way to insert a frosty pylon into our collective rectum.  We destroy the Taliban … no bin Laden.  We invade Iraq … no WMDs.  We get our first black President … but lose our economy.

Our country was foaming at the mouth, pointing fingers, screaming out during a State of the Union address like it was Def Comedy Jam.  We were frazzled.  We were verklempt.  Some of us started to look into the murky, dark abyss and wonder if the country wasn’t going to just crumble right into.  Murky, dark abyss … you know … the Gulf of Mexico.

Things were bad and they stayed bad.  For a long time.  It’s like Destiny took particular joy in putting his baseball spikes into the unprotected American groin.  Well … just when we need a win … because Charlie Sheen had been snorting our only supply of #winning along with his Columbian eight ball off of a Vegas stripper’s landing pad …

Just when we need a win …

[Read Column]