I’m like the Incredible Hulk, but with my belly

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
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I can make my shirt rip off. Not off my biceps, but in the belly area. And it makes me quite angry. I’m not green, but I’m getting fairly florid. It’s time to start working out again.

I’m like Superman, in that I duck when someone throws a pistol at me. I also smile condescendingly sometimes. I’m sorry.

I’m like Wonder Woman, in that she has great boobies, and I also have thoughts about squeezing her great boobies. Okay, that one’s a stretch. I love the bracelet thing she does. With the bullets, you know? I wonder if her bracelets would stop a lightsaber. I can’t.

I’m like Batman in that I’m largely misunderstood. Also, we both would like to wear a Batman suit and go out and save stuff and people. Cool!

I’m like Underdog. Sweet Polly Purebred is hot, despite her advanced osteoporosis and the fact that she’s a dog.

I’m like Wile E. Coyote in that my plans often go awry, and I get ripped off by mail quite often. I’m not wise with my money. How do you suppose Wile E. paid the ACME company, anyway?

I’m like Spiderman. No, I’m not, but I had to weave him into the conversation. If he really shared DNA with a mutant spider, the web stuff wouldn’t come out of his wrists. It would come out of his butt, right? Imagine how he’d look swinging from building to building. That’s just not dignified! And all the poor city workers that would have to clean that stuff off the buildings. Ew.

Do you have any superpowers or supercharacteristics or superlatenttendencies?

I can also think of a scene from a movie or television show, and within a day or two, I see that scene on TV. I must use this power only for good. I also make traffic lights turn red. If there’s someone waiting first in line, it’s me. Wave!

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Paypal.

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So, am I the only one who thought “Your belly turns green and smashes things?”

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I am like Powdered Toast Man. I can fart with the best of them.

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I’m not sure which superhero this is like, but I have the power of avoidance. Seriously.

In school, whenever we played dodgeball and bombardment (which I loved), I would inevitably be the last person left standing on my team. Even though I was always the tallest person in class (I hit 6 ft. before junior high), the other team either never saw me or just couldn’t hit me.

Today, when I go out with my friends, it’s like the ‘Woman in Red’ scene from The Matrix: I’ll be Morpheus gliding through the oncoming crowd without touching anyone, while my friends are struggling to fight their way upstream without bashing into people.

I have no idea how I developed this power.

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Sublight said:

Sounds like you could take the name Teflon® Man! (Or Woman, depending upon your polarity, of course.)

You could catch criminals in rock concerts and such. The biggest problem would be the very large number of criminals attending rock concerts you’d have to catch.

Also, don’t try to crowd surf. Might not work well for you.

Teflon Person is a lot better name than what I could have. Occasionally Precognitive Television Viewer simply doesn’t strike fear into evildoers.

racer72, I’m fairly sure Howard Stern has your superhero identity all wrapped up.

Kat: Made you look, didn’t it? Your superpower might have something to do with your imagination.

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No, it’s not Teflon® Man. It’s most definately one of Spider-Man’s powers…the spider-sense.

Now all you need is the webbing and the climbing, and you’re set. On second thought, maybe Teflon Man it is.

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I was a somewhat avid Underdog fan as a lad but this leaves me puzzled. How did you diagnose that? Anyway I suppose she’s somewhat of a hottie as anthropomorphic cartoon dogs go.

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I don’t think there’s really anything “super” about me, so I picked some characters I identify with;

I’m like Willow Rosenberg, in that I have red hair and I love school and I practice witchcraft and I’d rather kiss another girl than some smelly boy. And then there was that one time I horribly killed a man

I’m like Spongebob Squarepants, in that I love my horrible low-paying mcJobs and derive a disproportionate amount of pride and pleasure from doing them well. Also, I regularly adore people who don’t appreciate it.

Well, it makes me feel kinda special.

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Correct me if I misremember, but she had some pretty bad posture. Always held her hands up in front of her and had a hunched back? Or perhaps her sweater was poorly tailored and quite tight in the wrong places.