In a world where seriousness feels like wallpaper — news cycles looping, discourse flattening, timelines fraying — the internet has quietly crowned a new antidote to the overwhelm: Eric Sedeño. To millions online, he’s “Rico Taquito,” the wig-wearing, meme-referencing, Type-B friend you call when humor is the only thing keeping you upright.
His sketches are brilliantly unserious in a moment that often demands the opposite. One day, he reimagines Elphaba’s drama with a modern-day flair; the next, he’s in a blue wig and matching face paint, embodying Inside Out’s Sadness with perfect comedic melancholy. It’s not forced camp or a punchline hunt. It’s chaos with warmth and escapism in the form of a guy who reminds you why being online was fun in the first place.
And those wigs? Yes, they’re iconic, but they’re not an invention of “internet Eric.” They were always part of him.
“I used to send my friends the dumbest s––– on Snapchat,” he tells us, laughing. “I would be characters and send them a two-minute sketch… I had wigs for Halloween costumes already. The wigs have been part of me.”
Comedy as Liberation
What looks like effortless humor actually grew out of a personal turning point. Working as a graphic designer in the advertising industry and after what he calls a “crazy breakup” during the 2020 pandemic lockdown, something unlatched.
“We broke up and I was so free to re-find and express myself,” he said. “I just started being funny online… and fell in love with making jokes.”
From that moment forward, his audience expanded to over 1.7 million followers across platforms, and even Vogue dubbed him “TikTok’s favorite bestie.” But what makes Sedeño compelling isn’t the virality. It’s that the version of him online isn’t a character; it’s simply him, freed.
“I’m silly goofy, but I have a plan. I’m going to take over the world,” he told me, half-joking, fully manifesting.
That’s what makes him feel like someone you already know. You don’t root for him the way you root for creators— you root for him the way you root for friends.
Building a Universe, Not Just Content
Naturally, someone shaped by the internet would build something in return for it. Enter Sedeño’s podcast: Wild Wild Web, his western-coded love letter to digital culture— part nostalgia archive, part cultural study, part cowboy camp.
“You never know what you’re going to find every day; that’s why I call it the Wild Wild Web,” he explained.
Each guest unpacks their internet origin story (Vine, YouTube, Webkinz, Tumblr, TikTok) and, in doing so, reveals who they were becoming at the time. The show is polished yet playful, like Sedeño himself: introspective without losing the bit.
“I wanted people to get something they wouldn’t get on every podcast,” he said. “Everyone has a podcast now. I wanted this one to feel like its own world.” His recent guests include Bob the Drag Queen, Drew Afualo, and Vanilla Mace.
Every detail is his: the set, the voiceover, the design. “I did the mock-ups and animation… the whole creative,” he shared. A full-body labor of love, and proof that this isn’t escapism. It’s work. It’s art. And in a way, it always has been, coming from his days as a graphic designer.

Representation Without Performance
And yet, for all the humor, his presence carries weight. In digital spaces where Latine comedy often leans on tropes or accents, Sedeño exists as himself: a Mexican-American from Plano, Texas, who speaks the internet as his first language and Spanish as a work in progress. That duality is real, and it deserves space without judgment.
“Both my parents are fluent, but they didn’t speak to us in Spanish,” he shared. “It’s one of my deepest shames… but I just got a Spanish tutor.”
There is representation in the loud and proud. There is also representation in the quietly evolving. Sedeño makes space for the latter, the kids who grew up Latine but are not fluent, who feel culture in spirit before language.
It’s what makes his presence feel refreshing. He’s not performing identity to prove he belongs; he’s growing into it in real time. And there’s power in that kind of honesty.
A Softer Way Forward
At the end of the day, Sedeño isn’t offering an escape to avoid life — it’s more like a breather that helps you come back to it. Or, in his words, “People probably don’t get this from the wigs, but I actually love to work on myself. I’m very introspective. Emotional maturity is a skill you really have to develop.” That softness is the point. His humor doesn’t punch down or hide behind irony; it creates room. Space to laugh, to feel seen, to remember that joy still deserves to be at the center of our communities, not something we squeeze in at the edges.
In a time when being online can feel overly curated and strategic, Sedeño remains grounded in his refusal to over-engineer charm. Sitting across from him on the couch as we talk, it becomes clear quickly: there’s no “creator mode,” just Eric sincerely himself.
He’s proof that the internet hasn’t fully lost its softness. That silliness is still a skill. That being deeply online can still mean being deeply human.
And sometimes, the future belongs to the ones wearing wigs just because it feels good.