So when I wasn't hugging the toilet at MOC for most of Saturday's hangover- (a diet plan I don't recommend), I watched movies on TBS all day. One of them being Batman and Robin. I like seeing silly men run around in tights enchanting the city of Gotham with their overglorified pocket protectors that they call "utility belts." That and their one liners were very helpful when I was in that in-between stage of wanting to yak and not (guess which choice won?). But what I really like is the Super Villain. If I had my choice of which kind of superguy to date - I would sooner pick the villain of the story. They have so much more to offer a gal like me than just a code of honor to the people of the city (what do I need that for? I don't want him to care about an anonymous stranger - he should have a code of honor for just me, dammit) and a stooge to answer a door.

For one thing, they have goals. Big ones. They aren't going to a nine to five job for the man - they are working for themselves for a goal in the higher tax bracket and more people to be the boss of. They are rich anyway and what's more - instead of sitting on their duffs all day (though there is no shame in that either - heh)- they are moved by a power within to be great (fabo like me, perhaps?) and rule the universe. Meanwhile - since he is always "back at the lab" - I can be free to do other things - like my nails.

And while I do dig a man in pantyhose/tights - let it be known that it goes tons better with a sequined number - and unless I am dating Dynamite Drag Queen (with me as the Luscious Lipstick Lady) - this option isn't gonna be readily available. (But fun to think about). Which brings me to my next point: Super Villains also have the option to NOT have a secret identity. He doesn't need to wear tights - he has his drones wearing them for him (at minimum wage no doubt).

Vicki Vale was always wondering where she stood with Batman. That guy always put her last. The main squeeze of the super villain always knew what was up. He wants someone to share his joy of evil with. This means that if he is late cuz the Super Destructo Metal Meticulator isn't up to par and he absolutely needs it at the stroke of midnight (I never did get that) - he can call and let me know exactly what's up. He doesn't have to lie, or sneak around in a rat cave, or tell me for the umpteenth time that even though he is a play boy with no job - something has come up. He wouldn't have to lie to me - after all, I support him having a job and his joy of reaching that rainbow of ultimate overlord status. I would then be queen. Eat that one, Vicki.

Of course there are some flaws to this "dream man." Where would you meet such a super villain? I didn't see Lex Luthor hanging out in a local bar impressing chicks with his big instruments of doom on Superman and I would never know how to explain to my kids how their dad and I met anyway. I envision a scene where I hold my personal Dr. Evil's hand lovingly as I tell the children how we were both trying to take over the same planet... and after killing thousands.. it was love at first site). Gah.

And even though I take red pills and he is insane and while that would be the perfect grab bag of fun - there is the fact that he would be inherently evil, and yes, I might suffer some dire consequences (who knew he would have run out of subjects for the Amazing Shrink Ray before the testing time was done?). And I guess if I had a tiff with him - he would have the better ray gun in which to destroy me with. However, since it would always take 2 minutes to turn off - I might get that other option of the super hero's coming to my rescue (This is their only saving grace to me at this point) - and then guess who's poor shaken "didn't know what was going on" widow gets to take over the lab? It has a happy ending. And look, I am single again.

Oh yeah, btw: while I was busy partying this weekend and getting my computer fixed, the listbot is gone again. My email client had died so I had to switch to another one (hating Netscape mail) and all the names in it were lost. You gotta go sign up again. Sorry guys.