Or, or, convince them that you are God, and GOD is gay! There ya go!
Remain hard as steel indefinately while Lois Lane came over and over, but never let her make me cum? That’s pretty jerkish.
Check out this documentary by Louis Theroux on the Phelps clan: The Most Hated Family In America. It’s just sad. These kids were born into this cult and deserve our pity, not our hatred.
Um, hello? Superpowers?
KRYPTONIAN super-powers. Which don’t include making people immortal.
Let’s see… deny yourself orgasms while giving them to your partner.
“This word jerkish. I do not think it means what you think it means.”
Although “jerk” does have a solo application in this case. 
I’d have telekinesis. And I’d use it to take off women’s clothing. One second, they’ll be walking, fully clothed and I’ll think in my head “I’d like to see her naked,” and I would make it so. They’d be shocked and surprised and would scramble to put their clothes back on, but it’d be too late, I’da seen everything by then.
(search: Patrick Stewart, Extras, on youtube)
First, Batman would never be prepared, superspeed can come in quite handy…
“Where did I put those bat keys? Oh, there they are, now, where’s my pants?hmmm… over there, ok… now, where are those keys again, I know I just set them here right next to me…”
Second, I’d make Chuck prove every last one of those things…
I’d mess around with Voyager 1. Speed it up, slow it down, have it send back messages saying things like “Hi mom!” or “The owls are not what they seem,” that sort of thing. I might carve “GWB is a poopyhead” on the moon on my way back.
He is 77.
I would use my superspeed to add boxes of condoms and wine in a box to peoples grocery carts while they shopped.
And a shovel, rope, and a candy necklace. They’ll never shop in this town again! MUWAHAHAHA!!!
Oh wait, I’m being a super-jerk, not a villain. Sorry.
I’d do the same thing. Leave all sorts of evidence of life on other planets. Good evidence like Star Wars figures, Precious Moments figurines, cans of Dora spaghettios, posters of a kitten saying “hang in there”.
I’d raid the whitehouse for all the redacted memos and emails and dump them on the desks at the major newspapers and congress.
I’d fly to Mars and play with the rover. I’d make a trail of foot prints in front of it, but only like, 10, that had no obvious start or ending.
I’d go to all the gyms and lift just slightly more than the biggest people in the room. I would mess with people on airplanes. I would run marathons, beating everybody while smoking cigarettes, drinking whiskey and eating Burger King as I am running, and I would do it in jeans and a flannel shirt.
You know, you don’t even need super powers to do this. Cite.
Um, I’d use my laser eye beams to heat up the food in tins on the shelves of the supermarket. Then when people went to pick them up, they’d burn their hands. Ha!
I would fuck with people in little ways. For example, I would rearrange the aisles at the supermarket, leaving the signs intact. Or reverse half of the barcodes, maybe.
And that they’d better be ready for God to literally tear them new assholes in His image.
tdn obviously forgot that the thread was titled “Utterly frivolous things you’d do with KRYPTONIAN super-powers, just to be a jerk.” OH, WAIT.
It is jerkish. It could destroy Lois Lane’s self-image and make her feel like a terrible, terrible person.
But the opposite–having orgasms all over her, over and over, right before she was going to come each time–that would be even more jerkish, methinks.
I would used my targeted EMP ray to make cars temporarily break-down on a whim hopefully in ways that will most embarrass the owner.
Hey cop! You aren’t pulling her over. She didn’t even do anything. I burning your dog now! Your engine just died and your radios are gone. Does you feel naked to be without those flashers?
Why yes, that is a lovely brand-new $40,000 SUV. You shouldn’t talk on a cell phone while you are driving it though because you might wreck it. Oops. everything lost power. Better stand beside the road and see if someone stops to help you. Blame the dealership later.
Hey old lady. We all know you shouldn’t be driving. I’ll show you why. Its hard to steer when the engine suddenly quits on you isn’t it? Stand beside the road and contemplate your stunning lack of self-sufficiency these days.
I could probably get endless chuckles out of that prank. “Smile, you are on Candid Electromagnetic Pulse!”
I would use my love of hockey to buy tickets to Madison Square Garden.
And then, I would use my powers of telekinetic gas to fart Hendrik Lunvquist out of the goal, or at least bother him enough to break his concentration.
Yes, I am that much of a Devil worshipper.
Tripler
I hate the Rangers. Mark Messier is the antichrist.
Then I’d find me a bar on a highrise roof somewhere and find me a gullible drunk. (Aren’t they all?)
Then I’d explain to him the really wierd air currents around this building, jump over the side and fall most of the way to the ground, slow down and fly back up and land where I started from.
Convince drunk that he can do it too.