Holy Overrated Icons!

My opinion?
We give superheroes waaaay too much credit. Honestly.
I've discovered that the gutsy tight-wearing heroes we idolize are actually just overrated icons.
Seriously.
There I was, cornered by the evil Homeworkanator, waiting patiently for a superhero to arrive and save my butt. It was actually taking quite a long time, and both of us were getting bored. The Homeworkanator taught me how to disable a bomb, and I taught him how to snap his fingers. It was a win-win situation, really.
But suddenly, the door banged open.
Random Superhero: FREEZE, Homeworkanator!
Fuhh.
The dude was a complete and total dork. He had numbers all over his baggy tights and he was wearing a football helmet with a big radical on it.
If there's one thing I absolutely despise on this planet, it's radicals.
Not the political kind.
The mathical kind.
You know.
Square roots and junk?
Yeah.
Anyway.
Random Superhero: I'm MathMan, and I'm here to save the day! Beware, Homeworkanator, as I whip out my amazing TI-84 Silver Edition Plus!
Now, I had to hand it to him, he had a niiiice graphing calculator. But that didn't make up for the fact that he was a dork. Who did he think he was, my eighth grade algebra teacher?
Wait...scratch that. My algebra teacher was cool.
MathMan: *zaps Homeworkanator with a stream of numbers that emanate from the graphing calculator*
Homeworkanator: *blinks* Uh...was that supposed to hurt?
MathMan: *screams and runs to hide behind me*
Me: Dude, what kind of a superhero are you?
MathMan: A smart one!
Me: Dude. The Homeworkanator is not frightening. Irritating, yes. Consuming, yes. Life-ruining, most definitely. But he's not scary. Seriously, I could take him!
MathMan: Well, if you're so big and strong, then why don't you?
And so I became acquainted with a beautiful new idea... Why don't I?
Homework, beware! Landlords, cower in fear! Bigots, run for your life!
Today is the dawn of a new era...
The reign of Bohemian Girl!
Da-da-da-daaaaaaaa!!!
And all this time, the Homeworkanator has been watching me rather boredly, wondering why I don't go out and save the world or something. No, no, no, I don't do that. Not me.
I make it a point to go after the sources of my personal pet peeves, like... Band teachers who inform you of an audition a week ahead of time when everyone else has had months to practice. Oh, and whoever picked out my wardrobe for saddling me with a lifetime supply of t-shirts and jeans.
Oh, wait... that was me.
But I can still go after the friendly folks at Apple because I can't afford to buy the Cats original cast recording on iTunes. And I can throw flaming eviction notices at every car dealer in the world because I can't afford the Jeep I've always wanted! And I can make mean faces at the nation's economy for forcing me to get a job!
Yes, my friends, this is the beginning of a very beautiful thing...

I remain, gentlebloggers, your faithful servant,
Commodore Scribbles/ Bohemian Girl

Holy Cheese Nips!

My opinion?
We don't appreciate our superheroes enough.
Seriously, it takes guts to wear tights! And, really, who else is going to save us from the giant robots and monsters sent our way by supervillains? Who else is going to punch them out before they destroy all our skyscrapers? Who else is going to come up with a handy catchphrase for the press?

So, my fellow super-bloggers, I invite you to join me in a day of celebrating superheroes. Don your capes and spandex! Sing your theme song loudly and obnoxiously in the Metro! Run throughout the streets saving innocent citizens from cackling evildoers!
And, all together now:
"Holy cheese nips, Batman!"

Actually, we could probably do without the creative interjections. And the dorky costumes. And the lame gadgets that couldn't possibly exist. Like shark repellent. Puh-leeease.

Unless you created a gadget that did homework. Because then I would fall to my knees and beg you to save me from...
DUN, DUN, DUNNNNNN!
The Homeworkanator!
He's here to get me!
Fleeeeee! Run, don't walk! Head for the hills!
Cower!
Hide!
I must call for a superhero! If only my cell phone were actually charged!
Will a superhero arrive in time to save Commodore Scribbles from the Homeworkanator? Will Commodore Scribbles ever get to finish celebrating superheroes? Tune in next time to find out!

La Vie Boheme!

Ah...La Vie Boheme.
Or, the Bohemian life.


Bohemians are artists that drift away from the mainstream. They're often starving artists, struggling to pay their rent and hiding from their landlords.

If it's that bad, who wants to be a Bohemian?

I do! :D

It means I don't have to have a boring nine-to-five job pushing papers. I won't have to listen to a boss, I can work on my own schedule, and I can toss burning eviction notices off the balcony of my Lower Manhattan fifth-floor loft, which, of course, has no heat. It doesn't have a buzzer, either, so you'll have to give me a call from the payphone down on the street. I'll toss you the key.

And, most importantly, I can just write all day. To be honest, that's what I want to do with my life. I want to write.

Okay, people... I know you're thinking that starving artists will amount to nothing and that it would be better to just go to college and be an engineer or something. Engineers are important. So are inventors and doctors and junk. Without those people we'd be sick and we wouldn't have any fun stuff. I appreciate my iPod and the guy who made it.

But let's face it. Without artists, life would be boring. You know it. Admit it. There'd be no actors to fawn over, no art galleries to take your fifth grade field trip to, and absolutely no music. No classic symphonies. No heavy metal. No soundtracks. Not even elevator music.

And so, I dedicate this blog to art. And fun stuff. And random stuff.
Isn't blogging an art of its own?
Now go pat an artist on the head and say, "Thank you for making my life not boring." Who knows... maybe you'll inspire a new song called "The Crazy Guy Who Patted My Head."
I remain, gentlebloggers, your humble servant,
Commodore Scribbles