Saturday, July 12, 2008

Superdaddyman Takes on the Evil of Megalopolis - Volume 1

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Today is the perfect day for cruising the streets of the great city of Megalopolis. Unlike most days around the land of the evils’s, he has some free time as the diabolical Greektradgedius Inyiddish has transported the evils’s to parts unknown to give them super secret instructions on how to make the life of the Caped Pervader as miserable as possible during his break from Pink Mafia Headquarters. The air is warm and dry, the roadways relatively free of tourists, and the fair maidens of the city have taken their legs out of winter storage to show them off throughout the streets. All is well in the life of everyone’s favorite super villain turned super hero.

Now the Superdaddyvan is hardly what most people would call an optimal cruising machine, but it is a method of necessity. Back in the days when the Superdaddymobile was sponsored by Mitsubishi, he found it infinitely more plausible to cruise the streets and attract the sort of attention that Super Heroes require, but between the fact that any vehicle that the Superdaddyman drives is inherently “cool” and the fact that it is good for the crime fighting mantra to remain moderately in disguise he makes do. Perhaps the only real fun that the Superdaddyman has in his simpering Jeremy Crow disguise, and driving a blue minivan are those times when he gets harassed by rednecks in SUVs. There is a certain amount of humor value when an aggressive inbred chases down the minivan with someone who has “mommy” hair, to find a freak, hopped up on diet pills and sexual frustration, willing to stop in the middle of the road and get out. Not to offend all of you boys and girls we will not go into the conversations that follow.

Now of course as you all have probably figured out by now, it is very hard to contemplate the complex mind of the Superdaddyman, on the best of days. The Superdaddyvan as he had figured out recently was very good for other crime fighting responsibilities. Just the other day he noticed {accidentally of course} that when cars pass him on the left he can peer down into the passenger side window and look for contraband underneath the dashboards of the passing vehicles. In most cases he has given it his utmost attention and is happy to report that most of the vehicles that have passed him have been free of any obviously illegalities, but has been quite impressed at his ability to inspect the fair maiden’s dress code. This is particularly helpful on nights when “clubbing” seems to be on the menu. He can see how subliminal the Cadillac commercials with the woman pressing the gas pedal with the spaghetti strap shoes on truly is now!

With road surveillance over with for the afternoon, our brave and heroic young {cough cough hack cough} superhero takes his surveillance to the streets to get a more “hands on” {ok daydreaming about hands on} approach to guarding the streets. His favorite surveillance perch under his butt, and a nonfat decaffeinated latte {fucking diet} in his hand he is on the watch. The miniskirt to shorts ratio is rather high today, and so is the Superdaddyman’s spirits, to say the least. One of his favorite co-conspirators at the coffee house had given him a free one today, in the hopes that he would babysit her husband who must have been driving her up the wall while she was trying to work. The Superdaddyman had never actually been married long enough to get to the “living out of each other’s pockets” phase of the relationship, but takes pity on her all the same, so today he has a new sidekick sitting next to him on the perch.

Now realistically this new sidekick is the type of man that makes the Superdaddyman totally sick, as he has been married eighteen years and is still so amazingly in love with his wife that he gets under her skin. She loves him the same way, only with the need for breathers when she works. He’s a likeable enough chap, but doesn’t seem to understand the need for downtown surveillance like the Superdaddyman does. He is absolutely no help in detecting the really short skirts, or the ones that make you wonder if they are actually wearing stockings or not. This is a very important public service that the Superdaddyman conducts, and it is very hard when your accomplice is more concerned with the mundane things such as the weather and the Red Sox. Both are very worthwhile causes, in their own right, but the evening news keeps tabs on these things for us all, and it appears that only the Superdaddyman is on the job inspecting the legs properly. Even his wife lends a hand on these occasions when she points them out through the window for the aid of her favorite super villain turned super hero! He doesn’t seem to get it.

We were granted a brief respite as his wife {codenamed Skinni} came out at her break to bring us more drinks. As his attention was dotingly placed back on his own fixation the Superdaddyman immediately went back to the work at hand and with a fervor to make up for the time he had lost talking about the Patriots draft prospects. This of course had to be interrupted by Skinni’s friend who had now shown up and plopped herself right down next to the Superdaddyman. Skinni’s friend {codenamed Legs} has had a rather large crush on the Superdaddyman {as most women do of course} since he had driven her home last weekend drunk out of her skull, and refused to take advantage of her. Contrary to what most men think “drunk out of their skull” women aren’t as much fun as advertised. The fact that she is rarely NOT drunk out of her skull at night is an amazing turn off to the Superdaddyman, so he had reserved himself to staring at her legs when she is not looking and keeping her on that level. The fact that she is not drunk out of her skull during a period where the Superdaddyman has about twenty minutes until he has to pick up Big Evil from her job is the story of his life, so he is forced to kiss the rest of his inspection duties goodbye for another Saturday.

Back in the Superdaddyvan for another run around the fair city before heading out to the operations center {McDonalds} of the fiendish Lazius Boycrazius the Superdaddyman ponders the outcomes of his days events. Watching Skinni and her husband {codenamed Quickcrete Pete *note, he’ll kill us for that one lol*} makes him smile despite the ill feeling they make in his stomach. Some people are so sweet it makes you a bit scared, but happiness, two good looking boys {hockey players none the less} and a happy, but simple life are nothing to be jealous of. It is something to be enjoyed even if it is from outside the window. The Superdaddyman commends them on their never wavering commitment to each other, but would appreciate it if they would get less drunken friends for him ;8o)

Other Crap This Weirdo Publishes... Mental Notes & Random Musings {Daily Blog} The Crow's Nest {The Homepage of Jeremy Crow} Jeremy Crow on Multiply {For Community Types} Blogaholics Anonymous {E-Mail Blogging Group} Itching For Coffee {Community Blog}

Nothing that was printed here was intended to offend anyone, and if it did, screw ya, you begged for it. If you believe that there are some measures that can be taken to change me, then please feel free to pray for me, and while you are at it yourself, because you read this far, and if you hated every minute of it, then you are an idiot, not me, or the other people who like what I have to say! .. Jeremy

All writings Copyright © 2008