A LEATHER SUPERMAN? :>) RIGINAL.
I'm angry as hell because my S jumper idea has been pinched, though i still write it mostly and i'm sure my leather reader agrees on that.
See, years ago when i was strong as, handsome as, fit as, with a flowing mane of Elvis leather hair a woman would fly down a L Lane just to feel my biceps, I got my daddy to weld up a genuine steel man jumper out of Kevlar i stole off a cop to ward off his acid remark how (agreed with my daddy who rang him) that i would not only never fly...i would never ever amount to a leather bee's dick as a writer!
I ignored everyone. As one does when testosterone doesn't have to be injected and your doodle was fancy me free? I was an artist majoring in doodling. When in the right frame of mind. A girl i was going out with at the time who lived in a genuine leather phone box rental... named Lois, (her name, not the phone box's) was in dire straights. At the time the band 'Dire Straights' was too. Hard when starting out now isn't it artists when if you sit young around boozing all day and bitching how you could out act Brad Pit and were so good looking, women, if they could get around your beer guts close enough to come within cooee of your tat; you could have any woman you wanted two. Actually Superman had enough trouble with one. Aint that the truth chaps?
I digress. L rang. She had tripped over and fallen butt first onto a copy machine which in turn snapped her then ejected her shapely butt up up and away out the open window of a newspaper she worked for. I saw, (she wasn't an eyesore though!) what had transpired as i was knocking on the door of her rental box when her plight caught the corner of my eye as it does when a woman's butt is hurtling unrestrained from a height which would certainly diminish its size should i not enter her rental quickly as a mild mannered Clark "Cn' i 'elp you dear lady?" (pommie CK not to be confused with U.K. gym mat?) ...take off my mild mannered leather glass bifocals...don my dad's welded (only spot welded unfortunately!) big S outfit which i launched myself up in...only to find out it was made of iron man! Not lightweight Kevlar. Dad's cop was that he lied to me which put me off him for ages! Couldn't cop it as the cop had switched uniforms telling my dad that only an idiot wearing S iron would struggle up encumbered in rusted iron three stories up and leap out of the three stories (i'll tell you about the other two later as i must concentrate on L's catching butt).To be caught and ironed out- or not to be- butt.
So, being a young idiot i leapt out of the window prematurely and as all premature ejections from high turn out...i missed! Ahh! but God intervened, i fluked a hold on L's hurtling butt and together we bounced our butts off on a passing U.K. gym mat that just happened to be passing an ad on the back of a four- wheeled Comma comment- cruising bi. He may not have been bi but who cares. Bi and large i saved L and she thanked me for saving her butt size but a few years later i found out she became addicted to butt enlargement via the office cream donut stall pon Trent (whom she married) so in effect i didn't really iron her troubles out at all and in reflection her butt would have been better left squashed a little but i'm not the sort of S person to not catch a speeding bullet butt because that's the way i was brought up but. It's not easy being a man of iron and unless you have sequels of Iron man 3 4 5 2 (forget where 2 sits? abacus wise), then the attemptationary ironing out of the world's trouble does not in itself amount to much more than a leather bee's wing of iron filings.
In conclusion, what idiot would order and pay the amount of $109 for an idiotic leather replica S man jumper? Much less wear it? I'm so excited, mine's extra large and i'm pulling it...over my head. Beats wearing iron underpants as the extra length negates the need for underwear cos i don't fly like i used to due to re: buttal. But i must say i like to keep my hand in by filing my Kevlar nails which the S people said would keep me grounded simply by gripping my powerful biceps firmly. How grippy are yours? Sorry, not my business. Nor should it be as i'm a writer of wrong and aint that apparel apparent and as plain as a falling butt in your face should you too try to defuse a heightened dramatic exit? Must fly. I have ordered a F uniform to compliment my S life of helping people in dis or dat dis dress. What's your reason for living? :>)
In conclusion my S laptop erased half of what i just wrote all by itself. But who cares? Life's like that. Guess i've got clumsy fingers? :>) If none of the above makes common sense who gives a S? Leather S jumpsuit imitation steals...that's who.