I once had an odd friend.

He took a twenty-gallon plastic tub and filled it to the top with Clorox-brand bleach. He put on a diver's eye goggles and dipped the top of his head into the pungent liquid as the first step in dyeing his hair the color of his idol.

Some time after that ill-fated attempt at ultra-fanboyism, I ran into him at a local fast-food resturant. As he played with his wirey, damaged, now-shaved head, he somewhat bitterly mumbled five words at me, "Andy Warhol wore a wig." I wrote many haiku about that.