I did appreciate that one enterprising lass erected her own computer-TV tribute to my strapping countryman David Beckham.
Some provocateur generated a randy Sapphic portrait that I dare not reproduce, and even now blush to conjure -- would that the riddling effects of age could rob me of that wanton memory, rather than stripping my treasured recollections of halcyon days! Any road, while I found this imagery a bit tawdry, others declared it ace.
Alack, the banter wasn't always so bloody chipper. This poor urchin seems to abide the Dickensian squalor of child-labour camp, though she fancies herself skillful enough with the song and dance to win a role in Oliver!
Are you concerned that you may be a character trapped in a Tom Waits song? Be smart and learn the warning signs before it's too late. Also, it's too late. It has always been too late.
I'm haunted by a recurring vision of a skeleton flipping me off. To avoid seeing this terrifying image in bumper sticker form, I pay someone with a blank bumper to drive in front of me at all times.
The Something Awful front page news tackles anything both off and on the Internet. Mostly "on" though, as we're all incredible nerds.