2004-07-28 - 1:13 p.m.

I was thinking today that I should form a superhero team of my friends, and we should fight crime a la the Justice League or the X-Men. I think I've done an entry like this before, but it was so long ago that I really don't give a crap.

Ok. Now lets fill this dream team roster. Here's who I'd pick (and their superpowers unique to their personalities of course.)

Me. I have to be the leader because only I have a rediculously thourough knowledge of comic books, thus giving us the edge over any villian seeing as how I'd know how they were gonna act way ahead of time. My superpowers would be the ability to squeeze 36 hours into a 24 hour day. This is a power I've already somewhat mastered. We'd be able to fight 1.5 days worth of crime in 1.0 days of time. Also, I could squeeze 1.5 days worth of imaginary sex (or masturbation if you will) into 1.0 days time. The possibilities are endless. Codename: The Crammer!

Steve P. Steve's power would be to walk incredible distances without tiring or losing sight of the goal. Whether he's been poisoned, inebriated, shot, inebriated, paralyzed or inebriated, he could beat a path to our goal without waivering. His power would be invaluable if we had to track enemies to their secret layer or we wanted to find out which house a certain hottie lived in. Codename: The Walker!

Rob P. Rob's powers would be to change his arms and legs into guns. No wait, he can even change individual fingers and toes into guns! That's 20 guns! The ammo is entirely organic so he would have to eat every 15 minutes to make sure he had enough firepower. Codename: HandGun!

Smitty. Smitty's power would be to go up to 3 weeks without sleeping. No wait, even better, he sleeps, but his brain is so powerful he's able to mimic the functions of an awake person. He could even carry on conversations, and then remember them when he wakes up. Codename: SleepWalker!

Dan D. Being the gifted pitcher he is, he'd have super keen eyesite (for picking up signals and zeroing in on targets) and his left arm would be able to hurl any object, regardless of mass or size at exactly 84mph. His arm cannot tire, and is able to hit a dime sized target from up to a mile away. Codename: SouthPaw!

And then we'd also have a mysterious ninja. He'd show up to bail us out of trouble, but then disappear before we can thank him. He'd always wear a mask and instead of speaking, he'd leave behind fortune cookie papers relevant to the situation. Like if we were trying to crack down on kids buying NyQuill to get drunk, and we got overwhelmed by a bunch of drunk middle school kids, the ninja would swoop in and totally help us beat pre-teen ass. Then he'd disappear leaving only a fortune cookie slip that read: "Fortune smiles upon those who don't rely on alcohol to feel nifty." Then later on the ninja would be revealed to be me. And it wouldn't make any sense at first. So then we'd kill off my old guy The Crammer and I'd just be the ninja full time.

And this is what I do at work.

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