There’s a Spider-Woman, but no Superwoman or Batwoman!

Well, since that day, I’ve done some investigating, and the others have existed.  Hence, I’m changing my postulate to this:

No major character spin-off with ‘woman’ in her title has ever had her own comic except for Spider-Woman!

But what about Wonder Woman, nerds you cry, or Catwoman!?  They aren’t spin-offs based on some male version (even though there is a Wonder Man over at Marvel, and who the hell was Catman?)…

Even Hawkwoman and Invisible Woman were originally Hawkgirl and Invisible Girl.  (Okay, so Hawkgirl and Hawkwoman are different characters, but latter hasn’t had her own comic line like the former.)

Hawkgirl gets love; Hawkwoman gets second-billing.

Anyshehulk, in the Marvel Universe, Spider-Man has nothing to do with Spider-Woman’s origin, whereas the Superwoman and Batwoman incarnations had ties to their male counterparts:

Some incarnations of Superwoman.

Some incarnations of Batwoman.

So what makes Spider-Woman so unique?  Compared to the above, Jessica Drew has almost always been Spider-Woman.  And she came before any of the other Spider-Man counterparts, too:

Spider-Girl is Spidey’s daughter, May; Spider-Boy is a mixture of Spider-Man and Superboy in a combined comic event (so in other words, not real, figuratively speaking).

Supergirl and Superboy have always been Supes‘ cousin or him as a kid (or later, a clone):

Supergirl… more like Superhot, and Superboy looks Superbored…

And as for Batgirl and Bat Boy…

…you should have all seen this coming.

SIDENOTE: For more on sexism in comics, check out Women in Refrigerators… this just turned into a PSA.

While out drinking with some friends upon seeing The Hunger Games (still in theaters), one of my friends exclaimed:

You know, Jennifer Lawrence kind of looks like Olivia Munn.

Okay, so he didn’t quite exclaim it, but because it shocked me, it felt like he did.  For those of you unaware of either of those ladies, here’s a refresher:

Jennifer Lawrence, meet Olivia Munn

Despite the obvious differences of hair and eye color, skin tone, noses, and lips, they both have:

1. White teeth (welcome to Hollywood)
2. Distinct, angled chins
3. Narrower eyes
4. Round faces with high cheekbones
5. Similar bodies?

Similar bodies: check

I still don’t exactly see it though.  Perhaps if they’re both in costume:

Katniss Everdeen, meet Slave Leia... I'm sure you'll both have so much to talk about

CONCLUSION #1: I don’t see it.

CONCLUSION #2: My friend is an idiot.

CONCLUSION #3: Ladies, call me!

How much does a polar bear weigh?  Enough to break the ice.

Cheesy as hell?  Yes.  Good?  Not really… but it’s nowhere near offensive is my point.

At this point, the waitress shared what she thought was a cute pick-up line.  I don’t know if it happened to her, and if it did, whether it worked, but here it goes… a guy hurries up to a girl holding something in his hand, and he says:

You dropped your name tag.

And he gives her this:

Stunned, we were.  (Talked like Yoda, we didn’t.)  Once she walked away, and the spirited conversation began.

Here are some alternates (WARNING! BY DEFAULT, THEY ARE NOT GOOD!):

SAY:

I did this to my courage to talk to you.

HAND OVER:

SAY:

I’m glad I was able to do this to you.

HAND OVER:

SAY:

I’ll do this to the time we spend together.

HAND OVER:

SAY:

I view you as this.

HAND OVER:

(SIDENOTE: This was our favorite from the night.)

SAY WHILE HANDING OVER:

ACCEPTABLE FOLLOW-UP ITEM TO HAND OVER AS YOUR RESPONSE:

UNACCEPTABLE FOLLOW-UP ITEM TO HAND OVER AS YOUR RESPONSE:

Anydouche, there was a car like this with this license plate:

It's better than IGODWN2... (click this image for that story)

Is it Mrs. Mack or Mr. Smack?!  Those are two very different messages you’re sending, driver!

One is a guy I wouldn’t want to cross, and neither is the other!

What they should have had is a license plate like this:

What were the chances I had my Yoda mask with me when I saw the license plate? Apparently, really good. And for the record, I was not drunk.

(SIDENOTE: Much to my chagrin, the same thing goes for Barry Sanders.  I’ve only started following the NFL since 2006…)

Anywayne, add to my disappointment that I didn’t know The Great One had a 22-year-old daughter that had a predilection to post provocative pictures of herself on Twitter.  And if G.I. Joe taught me anything, knowing is half the battle.  (However, it did not teach me not to drink before playing soccer.)

Here are some pictures of Paulina Gretzky in case you too were iced out (sadly, The Great one has since made her quit using Twitter… talk about a slap shot):

She did not borrow those glasses from any officials, I'm telling you...

Hat trick. I just had to make some caption.

Puck.

(More pics here.)

So now I find myself in a similar quandary as I did when I had my crush on Chris Elliott’s daughter, Abby:

More like, Sunday Morning Live

And my upcoming crush on Mirror Mirror star, Lily Collins, daughter of Phil Collins (she plays Snow White in the re-imagining):

Sadly, her father does not play one of the Seven Dwarfs.

Imagine if  this dude was singing this song to any of the above dads:

This is a badge of honor.

We finally had out holiday work party and… well, let me give you a quick back story first.

At my office, which is an IT firm based within another larger company, we guys always had a sad little game we played.  For all my years there, we ranked the women in the office on their level of attractiveness.  I know; I already mentioned it was a sad little game.

The thing is, we always placed one woman we worked with at #5 on the list of five, no matter how many attractive women we had working with us at any time.  If there were three – she was #5.  If there were six – the same.  (At least we were consistent.)

One thing that was also consistent about her was she enjoyed to drink.  Like me.  At company parties.  So long as we were both at company parties, neither of us felt particular embarrassed by our levels of intoxication.  In fact, sometimes we used to be able to bring others to our depths.

But she was let go last year.  This holiday party was the first one I attended at which she was not present.  I fear I am now the company drunk.  I would have added lone company drunk, but the the implies that.

Here's to you #5.

Essentially, this particular debate began in regard to the Bloodhound Gang.  I mentioned that I’d be extremely content in life if I could happen to be a one-hit wonder like them.

The song I was referencing:

My friend slammed back that they had two hits because of this song:

If you go by YouTube views, The Bad Touch beats Fire Water Burn hands down (28.5+ million vs. 2.5+ million).  But I also know the song Why’s Everybody Always Pickin’ On Me? (which has 1+ million views), and that still doesn’t mean it achieved the same level of apparent one-hit wonderness…

It’s not like I haven’t wished for my own solo hit in regard to a particular single before.  I would be ecstatic to have a song stand the test of time like Rick Springfield’s Jessie’s Girl (true story) when I know he’s had other songs (Don’t Talk to Strangers and I’ve Done Everything for You), and I always considered him a one-hit wonder.

So is that the key to my interpretation of one-hit wonder?  It’s the song that the artist is primarily known for that will stand the test of time.

Now I know that there are novelty acts that are “pure” one-hit wonders.  But as for most artists, it’s not like a record company wants their product to produce only one hit… they’ll always try to release more songs off the same album, or at least one of the following album.

It looked like Sara Bareillis‘ Love Song would have been her only offering to the world until her second album had hits, so…

In conclusion to this Drunken Recollection rambling, what makes a one-hit wonder a one-hit wonder?  Take it away, Wikipedia:

In the U.S., a “pure” one-hit wonder is an artist that manages only one song on the Billboard Hot 100, regardless of the song’s peak position. However, most American music industry insiders consider a song in the top forty positions of the Billboard Hot 100 to be a hit. Thus, any performer who recorded only one song that reached the Top 40 is, technically, a one-hit wonder, regardless whether another song peaks in the “bottom 60.” However, the term is more generally applied to musicians best known for only one song.

Or as I said sort of:

It’s the biggest hit that artist is known for that will stand the test of time.

(Not So) Artistic Representation (Not Done By Me)

My favorite is:

…being far from sea level…

Everything's eventual... don't be in such a "flucrush."

This has to be one of the strangest bar arguments I ever got into.

It was at trivia, which is a rarer thing these days, and a question came up:

At what latitude is the north pole?

And at first I thought zero, but then we remembered the equator is zero.  So our (my) next “logical” jump was to say 180.  We paused on 90, but stuck with 180, and answered incorrectly.  We weren’t mad about that.  But it jump-started one of the loudest vocal challenges.  Degrees, and spheres, and pi (yes the pi without the e), and Tropic of Cancer, and Prime Meridian, and pumpkins were involved and shouted.  (The pumpkin still at the bar provided a nice example of the way longitude is measured.) No one jumped in; no one told us to quiet down; everyone looked.

I was going to explain the resolution of our semantics, but then I realized that’s even worse than what’s above.

So I’ll mention the invention of a new word - flucrush - and that it’s pronounced FLUH-KRUSH, not FLOO-KRUSH.  It has no meaning, but you’ll know when to use it.

Anybooze, we stopped at Eastside Sports Bar…

They were playing Reel Big Fish's "Beer" so it felt like a safe place to be... at least the beer was cheap.

…and purchased as many beers as we could on site, as well as plenty to go.

What does that have to do with anything?  Well, it was on this night that I saw this video for the first time:

And now the badass honey badger has gone mainstream:

Oh, and for the record…  a fight broke out within fifteen minutes of us being at that bar, and like the honey badger, I didn’t give a shit.