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