Criticism was somewhat intense; phrases such as "maggot snot," "pathetic excuse for comedic writing," and "Ill make you paint a sketch in your own blood" were thrown around. Which is fine---I believe it was Ben Franklin who said that the tree of great comedy websites must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of tasteless bloggers and commenters with poor spelling. Or words to that effect.
I felt somewhat guilty, however, since I believe I've done much worse in the past. You see, before we came to the happy pastures of Cracked, Mr. Gladstone and I used to ply our trade for a (sadly departed) site where the police sketch/Alfred E. Neuman joke would have rated fairly low on the offensiveness scale. To share just a few examples of the depths of comic depravity I was willing to plumb in those crazy days of my squandered youth, I'll have you know that I...
... and last but not least:
However, lest you believe that the space where my heart should be contains only an icy, desperate void, I'll have you know that I am not completely without compassion. For example, I waited for three entire hours after Anna Nicole Smith's tragic demise to create this graphic: