I Hate My Life by Bizarro Superman

 
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    April 24, 2012 at 6:00 am

    Angry bizarro

    I hate my life, and I’ve kind of had it with this Bizarro Superman gig. I know, I know, someone’s got to stand tall to the imperialistic runaway train that is the Man of Steel. But, lately, I’ve been really depressed. I feel like my life is a constant string of disappointments, as if I’m fated to lose, or something.

    The amount of effort I put into this gig is almost nothing, anymore. I used to fly everywhere, planning all sorts of heroic schemes to bring down that snotty Superman. Lately, I’ve just been screwing around as Bizarro Clark Kent and calling it a day. Like, I’ll dress up in a nice suit, hat, and glasses, and go in to work at the Daily Planet on a Saturday. I sit in Clark’s office, and do a really half-assed job of news reporting while I spit sunflower seed shells onto the rug. They’ll tell me to go out and cover some stupid news story, but I’ll just sit at my desk and make up the entire thing. Or, I’ll edit racist slang into the obituaries. Sometimes I’ll drink all of the coffee and leave like half an ounce in the pot without brewing a new batch.

    I don’t know what I really expect to gain from all this. I guess I want his boss to murder him. But that never happens to evil guys like Superman. Grrrr… how come that evil Justice League never has horrible murderous bosses like Igor and Dastardly Dog and I do? I suppose what I really want from impersonating Clark Kent is just some way to pass the time on a Saturday afternoon. Not so much because I am agonizingly bored, which I am, but mainly to keep my mind off of my crippling addictions.

    You see, being Bizarro Superman means that i have to do the opposite of everything the big S does. Do you know how many anti-drug P.S.A.’s that guy has made? I can’t watch Saturday morning cartoons with my kid without having to go shoot up or smoke crack every time there’s some dumb commercial with a Superman P.S.A.

    Speaking of my kid, he seems to be doing everything exactly the opposite of Superboy, in that he is not the slightest bit super. I found this out the hard way when I threw him off the roof to teach him to fly. I know it is was stupid and I knew it at the time. But the A.B.C. network had just aired his “don’t throw your babies off the roof to teach them to fly” PSA right after airing his “don’t drink all your parents hard liquor in one sitting” PSA. Do you know why they never made a prequel to Unbreakable? Because being a fragile kid who can’t take a fall on his head is practically a death warrant.Normally, being all cooped up watching the kid would make a parent ache for a night out. But every time I hit the town, I always get rejected by single ladies who mistakenly think my sperm will kill them.

    It doesn’t work the other way. I tried not punching old people for several days, this did not make Superman punch the elderly. Speaking of punching, imagine my shock when I punched him only to have him punch me back! I know that isn’t the opposite just as I know having to keep my colon on the outside of my body is extremely painful and cumbersome. Like I said, I just don’t think I’m cut out for this, anymore. I don’t mean to bring drama, but I’m seriously considering leap off a tall building into the path of a powerful locomotive while I put a speeding bullet through my temple.

    Sigh. Maybe I just need some time off. I’ve been thinking of trying yoga to see if it makes Superman cramped and short of breath. That sounds like effort, though. I hate my life.

     
     
     
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