After my recent post about my local Target Superman... I got to thinking. I'm a freaking super hero too. Well, I WANT to stop a speeding train in a single bound; But, all I've managed to do is eat the jelly out of a donut. Quite successfully.
I bob and weave throughout the local supermarket like speeding bullet, casually evading those tempting end cap deals. Take THAT, food marketing geniuses. Your evil attempts to stop my padded bra heroism has failed! Ha. Ha. Ha.
Never fear my handsome champions. No villain can whisk me away to Sugar Metropolis and load me up with mountains of cotton candy to win my affection BonBon King. Well, maybe. My padded bra -made of lollipops-awaits you, kind sir. I'm pretty certain any sophisticated civilization has cotton candy. If it doesn't, someone should be getting the fudge covered ax. Not mentioning names. Peanut Brittle. You bastard. If the victor plays his cards right, he can access the spoils of the glittering padded bra! Da-Da-Dadaaaaa! Of course it has glitter. Strawberry flavored. Would you expect anything less? I have no idea why I keep talking about my brazier either. Keep up.
I know what you're thinking, or not. But my sweet tooth is becoming a very real obsession; But, I'm happy to report, that I brush and floss regularly and I have grown quite attached to my pretty white chompers over the years. BRUSH YOUR BICUSPIDS, KIDS! This has been a public service announcement. See? Super hero status. Speaking of super heroines... Am I the only one who noticed that Minnie Mouse has not aged one bit in her entire Disney empire lifetime? Maybe she has the super power of the anti-aging. Sign me up. I'd rock the hell out of those ears! So, my sensational champions, what kind of protagonist are you?
The nerd hero who can stop a barrelling -out of control- train virus in it's tracks. Control, Alt, Delete the madness troubling me with just a few clicks. Oh, my circuit board savior.
The muscle bound emancipator. Leaping across the 101 freeway into my crazy blogging heart. Carrying me over his head, like a fruit basket bench press, across four lanes of elliptical trials.
The evangelical artist. Strapping my frame around him like a paint brush murse. His heroics, favored by his muse, shellacking his easel with great posture... And a beret.
Let's sum up. I think I would be the perfect super hero. Im independent, but love wholly. Like guacamole. I'm strong, but am a tenderoni. Like macaroni. And I like donuts.
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