Sunday, November 27, 2005
Speaking of handicaps...
I'm thankful Superman never wanted my parking space.
Face it, the Supermobile ain't a compact. Superman needs room to park that sucker and it must be conveniently located, because when you're a big-time hero, time is often of the essence. This means ... Superman takes Handicapped Parking spots. Because he can get away with it.
"Excuse me, sir, your supermobile is blocking the full access ramp and -- say, that's a handicapped parking spot!"
"Sure is, 'wheelie'; wanna make something out of it?"
"But--but that's for folks who are handicapped like--like me!"
"I'm Superman, sweetie; from where I sit, all human beings are handicapped and I can't tell the difference. Besides, without me, your planet would have been long since incinerated into space dust by one of the weekly comets I save it from.
Tell you what; I'll go easy on you. I'm going to toss you a couple miles away from here, but, because I'm such a nice guy, I'll throw you in the chair and maybe it'll help break your fall.
And if you're lucky you'll land somewhere near the crumpled up ball of steel and plastic that used to be your hydrolift-equipped van."