I Am Better Than Your Kids Read online

  There’s a helicopter with jet engines taking off from a race car with a helipad on it. On the one hand, it’s mind-numbingly stupid. But on the other, it’s mind-numbingly awesome.

  F+

  Cameron, age 6

  Great design, Cameron! Way to think ahead and put wheels on top of your “Ferait.” If only the real Ferrari corporation was as forward-thinking and progressive as you:

  A car like this just makes sense for all those times Ferrari drivers want to drive on their roofs.

  F

  Lucas, age 8

  When I think of the monster truck Grave Digger, I think of the black and purple cabin with green suspension, giant tires, and a badass skull on the side. Not a sunshine-yellow Scion xB with a hood ornament that looks like a heart. Barf.

  F

  Stewart, age 7

  This would be the perfect war machine if it didn’t look like a mouse and have two giant rods that extended below the wheelbase. Here is what a real war machine looks like:

  F

  Maddox, age 32

  HOLY FUCKING SHIT! This is the coolest war machine I’ve ever seen! Look at those cannons everywhere, and that giant war turtle with a spiky shell and demon head that’s barfing out the middle finger, a giant battle ax there for no fucking reason, and a fatass live shark just hanging off the side being excessively threatening. This artist deserves a beer and a blow job, simultaneously.

  A+

  Nadi, age 7

  Oops! Although you meant to draw a suburban housewife, what you actually drew was the most brutal dictator in history. That is a very unfortunately placed eraser smudge, but the Hitleresque comb-over put it over the top.

  F

  Wayne, age 7

  Führer the Hedghog.

  F

  Nadi, age 7

  “Oh nothing, just hanging out in front of my house, looking at butterflies flying in front of my swastika window. ’Sup with you?”

  F

  Greg, age 7

  Hitler on a tractor is one of those surreal thoughts that pop into your head when you’re bored while waiting for your dentist appointment, and you start daydreaming about all the mundane things Hitler had to do on a daily basis, like frying eggs, flossing, and folding his pants.

  F

  Sean, age 7

  Some people play catch in the park. Others salute Nazis. Everyone is different.

  F

  Josef, age 6

  Hitler Mr. Potato Head getting pissed in the eye. Awesome.

  F+

  Remie, age 9

  “I got a toy train set, what did you get?” “I got a twenty-five-point plan for expelling Jews from eastern Europe.”

  F

  Eric, age 8

  Lovely day at the park with Papa Adolf and his family, frolicking under a rainbow.

  F

  Damon, age 7

  When I was a kid, I used to draw myself as a superhero with special powers* and compare it to my friends’ drawings. It’s fun until some shithead inevitably chooses “all powers” for his special ability and ruins the game, Damon.

  F

  Cole, age 7

  When Peter Parker created his alter ego to strike fear into the hearts of criminals, I doubt “spread eagled with a constipated expression” is what he had in mind.

  F

  Sara, age 7

  I once had a smudge on my monitor and I left it there for so long that I started to rearrange the icons on my desktop around it instead of cleaning it. That’s pretty lazy, but this “imbisible” drawing is laziness of a higher order. Even the Invisible Woman from Fantastic 4 has dotted lines drawn around her to establish things like scale, where she is in relation to other things, or whether or not she even exists. But no, not Sara. And even if you wanted to “draw” an invisible woman with nothing, why isn’t there anything else in the scene? It’s an invisible woman, not an invisible universe.

  F

  Stewart, age 7

  The power to transform into “any hinge” is a power beyond imagination, in the sense that it’s a power nobody wants to imagine. Also, none of the things you drew here is actually a hinge.

  F

  Genevive, age 7

  When you imagine a world in which you have the miracle of flight at your whim, what do you do? You drop a cat hurtling down toward earth. I can actually get behind this.

  F+

  Ted, age 8

  Tune in for the exciting adventures of the “SPY Jounirs SQUAD.” Featuring Laser Beam with the power of a concentrated laser blast; Speedey, able to go faster than lightning; and Doug. Doug has no special abilities and isn’t even as tall as the other Jounir Squad members. Toy companies everywhere can’t wait to pass on this shitty franchise.

  F

  Monika, age 8

  Yes, I can. Also, the assignment was to name your superpower, not to state its effect. If all superheroes used your naming convention, Spider-Man would be called “the Amazing I-Will-Capture-You-in-My-Web.”

  F

  Jason, age 9

  “. . . and I would call this superhero: Wolferine! It’s totally different from Wolverine. You see, Wolverine has a skeleton covered in the indestructible alloy adamantium. My skeleton would be covered in ‘metel,’ that is ‘indestruktibull.’ And whereas Wolverine fights villains with his metal claws, I will cut logs and sandwiches with my metel bars.”

  F

  Keriann, age 5

  Why are your windows filled with water from the top? You’re like the M. C. Escher of crappy children’s artwork, without the talent.

  F

  Caleb, age 6

  Your dream house floats six feet above the ground. This would be a good time to tell you that the “you-can-do-anything-you-want” line teachers have been telling you is a lie. The Universal Law of Gravitation isn’t just a technicality. Someday, while at your desk job, when you realize that you never became rich or famous, I hope you remember this drawing and regret making it.

  F

  Michael, age 5

  I imagine this is what the conversation with the architect would sound like: “How much extra for a room with bickering monkey people? Also, is it possible to have a wall with a pool that floats vertically with a shark in it? And just one more thing, I promise this is the last one: could you put King Kong in a room? Thanks.” Not a single thing in this house is plausible, with the exception of you standing around saying, “I got the power.” I guess you could do that.

  F

  Jenny, age 5

  If you had a giant money bin, why would you want to broadcast that to thieves? This isn’t Duck Tales, and thieves in the real world aren’t into mischief like the Beagle Boys. Instead of being outwitted by a miserly old uncle and his three nephews, criminals in the real world usually die in a hail of gunfire after they’ve taken you hostage for ransom in a building they’ve set on fire. The only way to identify your remains afterward will be by your dental records. So think before you brag next time, Jenny.

  F

  Duke, age 4

  Boring.

  F

  Beverly, age 6

  The rooms-to-bathrooms ratio in this house sucks. One bathroom for every 50 guests would cause people to defecate in the hallways.

  F

  Morgan, age 8

  This gave me the eye equivalent of a nosebleed.

  F

  Beth, age 4

  Nobody likes your poopy.

  F

  Sharon, age 4

  Your dad went through years of school and possibly college, maybe met your mom at work and thought she was cute. He probably spent weeks seducing her and finally getting into her panties on the third date. At some point they both agreed independently that they couldn’t do better, and decided to have a child. Your mom carried you around for nine months, spent twenty-four-plus hours in a delivery room going through great pain, while your dad footed the bill and worked extra hours to make ends meet. And four years after you pop out of your mother’s vagina, you
present this wrinkly piece of shit drawing? I’d be feeling pretty ripped off if I were your parents.

  F

  Jeremie, age 5

  Google maps has nothing on this.

  F

  Marshall, age 5

  This actually seems like an appropriate house for someone of your ability. I see this house and think: the universe is just.

  F+

  Rolex, age 9

  The left side starts out pretty awesome: you have a cool castle with a moat, a silhouette of a mysterious man—possibly a detective—wearing a derby hat, El Diablo in the top window, and ominous eyes behind the drawbridge. But as you get to the right side, Rolex, it looks like you kind of started to phone it in.

  F

  Linda, age 4

  This is supposed to be a grocery store, and it proves that even abstract art can be concretely shitty.

  F

  Jasmine, age 7

  This was Jasmine’s attempt at designing the new World Trade Center in New York. Here’s how it would look in the New York skyline:

  F

  Eddie, age 11

  This sketch of the New York harbor was done by Eddie, age 11. The drawing inspired Eddie’s brother, Adam, to draw his own version.

  The result is below:

  F

  Adam, age 9

  This could be a case study for one sibling receiving more than his fair share of the good genes in the family.

  F-

  William, age 7

  My mom doesn’t like it when I am sick because she has to bring bowls for me to throw-up in.

  “Dear Diary,

  I really don’t like it when William is sick because I have to bring bowls for him to throw up in. That’s all!

  —William’s mom.”

  F

  Catrina, age 10

  “I brought you some soup! It’s the least I could do since I make you rest in a vertical bed while you wait for your exorcism.”

  F

  Dennis, age 13

  Is everything okay at home, Dennis?

  F

  Roger, age 13

  I’m for barfing on students. The rest is too crazy, in a good way. Good job.

  F+

  Wayland, age 7

  It’s an alien, so let’s give him one eye and a spacey name like “eye moon.” Tool. But wait, how do we know it’s an alien? Where’s the flying saucer cliché? Deborah delivers:

  F

  Deborah, age 7

  . . . and if an alien doesn’t have one eye, it has to have three. There’s an unspoken rule that when drawing aliens, the number of eyes must be an odd number. Yet for some reason, aliens never seem to have one arm or three. Keep being a little conformist, Deborah, and you will be able to parlay your sorority connections into a job in HR.

  F

  Lilan, age 7

  Chopstick antennae? Check! Second head with impossibly fragile neck that ignores the center of gravity? You bet your ass! What exciting things won’t the SS Mars discover with its bright pink exhaust manifold and rakishly angled nose cone?

  F

  Alex, age 7

  And in the rare case that the odd-numbered-eye rule is violated, of course the alien has to have an odd number of fingers. But that doesn’t explain why Neptune is visible from Earth, or why this alien was left behind on the moon. I can only infer that Earth is “home” and Neptune is “Daddy’s new apartment.”

  F

  Diana, age 7

  How are you this ghetto at age 7?

  F

  Lindsay, age 8

  Your alien world is such a sausage fest, it could double for a strip club half a mile from the airport.

  F

  Ben, age 7

  I’m not saying it’s impossible for extraterrestrials to exist that represent every gay stereotype; it’s just unlikely.

  F

  Roger, age 7

  “Greetings, Earthlings. I am Piggy Wiggy Stiky Boy. I am an alien. Our race is an arbitrarily silly one. We have an arbitrary number of extra appendages and nostrils. We can learn a lot from each other. Our race can learn about your food, culture, and music, and your race can learn about why we have Italian mustaches and love pancakes. To our mutual prosperity! Sincerely, Piggy Wiggy Stiky Boy.”

  —First extraterrestrial address to human race

  F

  Munch, age 30

  Oliver, age 7

  Who knew that space aliens stranded near Pluto would look like Munch’s The Scream? Also, way to have your style competantly duplicated by a first-grader, Munch. More like butt-Munch. Both of you.

  F

  Wendy, age 7

  I’m not entirely sure, but I think what you’re trying to say is that Spankula (spank + Dracula?) gave “fire alien” herpes. I especially like that you threw in this tautological gem for good measure: “vampier girl is a vampier.”

  F

  Melissa, age 6

  Let’s start with the things you got right in this drawing: you mostly colored inside the lines. Now on to the wrong: there is no historical text—biblical or otherwise—mentioning Jesus’ antennae, green arms, or lollipop.

  F

  Apul, age 7

  I’m pretty sure the incongruity between the message “I come in peace” and the alien’s facial expression wasn’t intentional. You need to learn about facial expressions, Apul. Watch and learn:

  F

  Maddox, age 32

  Which of these moms would you trust to eat cookies from?

  F

  Angela, age 3

  . . . and Down’s is his syndrome.

  F

  Hiroshi, age 7

  100% of scientists would agree that if we should ever encounter an alien life-form, the likelihood of it resembling a Japanese rockabilly scenester is 0%.

  F

  Donna, age 8

  Lame.

  F

  Hal, age 7

  There doesn’t seem to be a middle ground when it comes to aliens. They’re either arbitrarily silly or fairly ordinary Jewish guys with no hands. Here’s my take on an alien:

  F

  Maddox, age 32

  DON’T LOOK BELOW THIS SENTENCE UNLESS YOU WANT YOUR EYES FUCKED UP WITH A CHAIN SAW, BECAUSE THIS IS INDUSTRIAL-STRENGTH TITS.

  A+

  Jovan, age 5

  I can read the word, and I can see the arrow pointing to it, but I see no dog anywhere in this picture.

  F

  Steve, age 4

  Steve was asked to draw a Thanksgiving turkey. Instead, he drew a two-headed robotic turkey cyclops. Though I’m not sure if this is technically a cyclops since the creature does have a total of two eyes. Touché, Steve.

  F

  Tanner, age 8

  Apparently the only difference between a “robotec” horse and a normal horse is that a robotic horse has this tiny panel below its mane:

  F

  Cole, age 5

  This elephant looks like it’d be at home on planet Hoth. Taping a couple yellow eyes on the side of an Imperial Walker won’t fool anyone. Nice try, Chancellor Cole. Or should I say, EMPEROR COLE?

  F

  Abe, age 5

  Oh, come on. The tail is obviously an antenna; you’re not even trying. When this elephant isn’t feigning interest in legumes, he’s calculating the precise moment to rise against the humans.