I am swinging in downtown New York.
Yeah, that line get’s old after 10 bajillion times of getting printed and reprinted in books and comic books — About me! Heck! Marvel should be paying me for using my freaking name! — SO like what ever, I get talkative sometime. And I usually talk to myself, yeah, like this. You might say I have a few gears missing but Deadpool do this kinds of shit and his comics rating is off the hook,so why don’t I do this for a change? Yeah. I should PROBABLY do this. I should do this. I am already doing this, why am I arguing with myself. But here I go,swinging in downtown new york like I usually do after selling photos of me at the New York Times. And you should know, my boss is not a grumpy asshole from the 10th dimension as the comics portrayed, she’s smoking hot.
And here I am, swinging in weblines that came with the spider bite, the wind rushing through my mask as I think what I should be having for dinner. Being a superhero is great and all but it can’t pay my bills, which I have in abundance. ——-SPIDERSENSE—— There goes my sixth-sense people and when this happens my ass usually gets handed down on me. Usually.
*RING* I know this will be bad. This will be freaking bad.