Batgirl #39

Spoiler Alert: Batgirl kicks its ass!

Dear Diary!

I drew a pornographic picture this morning! I know! I'm so nasty. And then I did that thing that artists on the interspace do where they take a picture of it along with their drawing implement to show how amazing their work was when it was done with just that one piece of equipment! Close your eyes if you've never seen a penis before, Diary!

I've only ever seen one and it was quick and blurry and on Frankie's phone but I think I got it mostly right here! I had to guess at the balls but since they're called balls, they must look like two balls under the penis, right?!

Godzarks, I sound like such a naive dweebort. I'm twenty-one years old and I've never touched a penis and I'm making up silly words in my bedazzled purple diary! No offense, Diary! But I shouldn't be writing my secrets into you! I should be whispering them into the ear of a manly man as his penis spins inside of me! Or however it works! Ugh! I'm so pent up with vaginal fluid! Can't that drive a woman mad?! I think I have blue ovaries from not getting any! Why are guys such goddamn teases?! I mean the hot guys who I want to ravish my sexiness, not those creeper guys that say things like "Milady" and "I'm a nice guy!" Because usually the next words out of their mouths when you say "No thanks!" are "You cunt!" I am so over guys who have to declare themselves as nice guys because they certainly have never shown how nice they are.

You know what else I'm just about over with right now, Diary? Burnside! Talk about betrayal! Now I know how Superman feels when he saves the day every single day and then Congress calls him before it and is all, "Give us some proof that you won't turn on us and be an evil jerk. Wear this collar!" or whatever. This is why Batman learned that trick where he disappears the second you aren't looking him directly in the eyes! Anyswayze, you probably want to hear all about it, don't you, Diary? Of course you do! That's why you sold yourself to me! So that I'd spread you open and stick my pen inside of you!

So a few nights ago, I found myself being chased by a bunch of crazy, amateur vigilantes. No wait. Let's call them a lynch mob because what they were doing was way different than what B-man and I do! B-man is code just in case somebody finds you hidden in my dirty panties under the bed!

At least my ass looked extremely touchable that night!

I wrote "touchable" because I don't want to seem weird by saying "lickable." Does that make me weird, Diary, that when I think about a guy's tongue in my ass my inner thighs become more spectacular than Angel Falls? When I was much, much younger (like sixteen or something), I remember walking down the street with my best friend Sarah Swayze (it's why I started saying "Anyswayze!" She always said, "Whatevegordon!") and walking in front of us was a hetero couple. The girl had her arm around the guy's waist and the guy had his hand in the crack of the girl's ass, rubbing it! Sarah was all, "Eww! Gross! You're supposed to just cup the buttcheek!" And I just said, partially moaning and growing slightly dizzy with severe jelly legs, "Um, yeah. Right." But really I was thinking how awesome it would feel to have a man's fingers slowly caressing my tailpipe! I almost called it my poop faucet just now but I don't want to think about poop when I'm thinking about a guy touching my butthole! And even though Sarah was my best friend, I couldn't bring myself to tell her that what that guy was doing to that girl was turning me into unsellable swamp lands. I felt like that made me weird! But maybe Sarah was the weird one, right? Maybe most girls like their bucket kissed!

Anyswayze, I was up on this roof with a bunch of normies chasing me down! It's always hard to defend oneself against normal people because you can't really do much without hurting them. They're all so flabby and untrained and have, most likely, never taken a punch in their lives! So I had to run like a coward while trying to convince them that I was their friend! I was there to save the city! I could help Burnside! Didn't these people understand that I was the neighborhood's savior?!

Hmm, now that I write it like that, it seems a bit arrogant, doesn't it Diary? No wonder some people hate Green Arrow. He's always all, "You people can't control yourselves! You've made such a rotten mess of everything that now I have to take you by the hands and show you the way! You're lousy citizens that fudge up every thing you try to do and only one person can save you now!" Then he pulls out his stupid ass bow and arrow and raise them above his head and yells, "Green Arrow!" And he expects everybody to cheer? He's lucky he doesn't get pelted with fruit every time somebody spies him.

Although he is kind of hot. I wouldn't mind climbing up his space needle.

Qadir is cute in that doesn't really perform much upkeep on himself kind of way. But his sister would kill me!

So here was my problem, Diary! No, not the I can't get laid problem. Enough with that! Sex isn't all young women think about, you know! I also think about justice and my thesis! And sometimes I concentrate really hard hoping I can curse Grump Canary into feeling super guilty about giving me a hard time so that she'll come crawling back to apologize. Then I can apologize too and we'll cry and laugh and drink some hot chocolate together. Then she'll tell me that Condom fell off of a building and died and we'll decide to get the Birds of Prey back together! And we'll start by bailing Starling out of the drunk tank and giving her shooting lessons so that maybe she can hit something once in awhile. And then we'll get Poison Ivy on the team because our team needs that bad girl edge even if I'll wind up arguing with her a lot about how we can't be killing people and trying to rape them with mind control lipstick pheromones. I'd probably suggest we steer clear of Katana because remember that time she blew up that hotel that hadn't yet been evacuated? Holy ballsacks, she killed a lot of innocent people that time. I wonder why none of us ever talked about it?!

Anyswayze, back to my problem! Burnside hated Batgirl and not just because I'm unlikable! I mean, I'm not unlikable at all! The reason they hated me was because I had like eighteen thousand imposter wannabes pretending to be me! And one of them was trying to bone my almost boyfriend Liam the Cop! That makes me so mad! Not before I've sullied him first!

Ugh. I keep getting distracted! The problem with having an eidetic memory is that I can't forget any of my problems ever for even one moment and they're all crowding into the front of my brain vying for my attention! So my problem was this: somebody put out a hit on me for $20 Million Scratcheroonies. Scratcheroonies are roughly equal to one dollar. And they posted it all over HOOQ! So now the people I'm trying to date all probably want to kill me! Vagina, no wonder you're full of cobwebs.

So those were just a few of the problems I was having. And I still haven't mentioned my thesis boner. The bad kind of boner, Diary! Not the presumably good kind of boner!

How can I be like the smartest person I know and this old fart academic can make me feel so stupid? To my level of intelligence, he's no smarter than the guy that dishes up popcorn down at the Movieplex. No offense intended, Josh of the cute, tight acrylic pants. But come on. You are kind of dumb. And cute.

So after the disaster of a thesis meeting with Old Mister Bald Fart Crotch (I mean, I totally respect him and everything but let's face it: he's definitely a super villain!), I learned from Cute but Maybe a Bit Too Old Jeremy Office Across the Hall that Grump Canary's band, Ashes on Bumday, were going to be playing the big HOOQ party. And he was all, "She's so hot! I sure would love to do adult things to her!" And I was all, "Poo! She's not so good looking!" And Jeremy was all, "How come when I talk to you, you bite your lower lip until it bleeds?" And I was all, "Stop noticing those things because I have an almost boyfriend and you can't have sex with me because you're old and you think Grump Canary is hot!" And he was all, "Barbara? Barbara? Hello? Are you having a fantasy conversation in your head while I'm talking about possibly smooching on your friend?" And I was all, "Take me now, Jesus!" And Nadimah was all, "Mohammad." And I was all, "Whatever. Either one!"

The point I'm trying to make is school is stressful and messed up! And my home life is stressful and messed up! And my love life is stressful and messed up and nonexistent! And my friendship with Grump Canary is stressful and messed up!

Has life ever been this hard for anybody ever?!

So I found a roof to cry on when I heard somebody call for help! A damsel in distress! I would save the day because at least that was something I knew I could always succeed at! I mean at which I could always succeed! I'm no illiterate! And I kick major ass too! I kind of interrupted my thought there but whatevegordon!

So I'm kicking the asses of these guys in skull masks when the damsel in distress turns out not to be in distress at all! It was a big trick to earn the 20 Million Scratcheroonies! Gah! Now my crime fighting was stressful and messed up too! But wait! What was that, Diary!? Was it a bird? Was it a plane? No, it's...well, yeah, actually it was a bird.

Oh my god. She's so hot. Next to Dinah, I look like a spilled bowl of nachos.

When Dinah said we were going to have a "staff meeting," it was a pun! Because she wanted to train with bo staffs! Staves? Hunh, maybe I am illiterate!

So Dinah and I sparred while we talked over the Mystery of Batgirl Trying to Defeat Batgirl. She was so funny and cute and sexy, I'm surprised I could concentrate on anything. How come the entire city isn't in love with this woman?! Why doesn't she have her own town that she's defending where everybody cheers when they see her fly by in the night and then immediately bring themselves to orgasm where they stand because holy shit her body is on point. I bet her butthole smells like vanilla pudding! How come there isn't a national holiday dedicated to Black Canary?! This woman has everything! Plus she helped me figure out who my super secret super villain was! It was WOPR! I mean, HOOQ!

That explains it all somehow!

So my revelation about Frankie being in trouble was spot on. GENIUS! I mean, I shouldn't be so excited about getting that right! Frankie was in trouble! Kidnapped by HOOQ! Or, um, I guess whoever was running HOOQ and using my brain scan to his advantage. Was it Riot Black, Diary? Don't make me spoil the ending! I'll get to it soon enough (although I might have to take a break and continue this entry later because sometimes life needs a cliffhanger, you know?!). So Grump Canary and I headed on over to HOOQ headquarters where it looked like Frankie was being held captive by the Secret, Mystery Evil Smarty Pants! Canary would be back-up and I would go in boobs flopping and feet kicking and mouth "Hi-ya!"ing! Total action movie rescue and then my life would be all better!

Anyswayze, I found Frankie sitting in front of a computer terminal looking at video of me getting Bat-dressed. She would have to die! I mean, it's cool. It's always better when your roommate knows your secret. It helps explain all the bloody clothing on wash day, you know? And I guess brain scans have really made leaps and bounds in technical advancements because she even had video of me being shot by The Joker which wasn't from my perspective at all but from behind my head! What the hell is up with that, memory?! Also, can you believe that actually happened? Like, when I think about it, it seems like the kind of story that was supposed to just be a daydream and not really a part of your life, say, in canon, but then all of a sudden you wake up and some dick editor was like, "Yeah, yeah! This should be like a true story and shit! Cripple that bitch!" And you're all, "Aw, fuck. What did I do to deserve this?!" But then you're all, "You know what? Fuck this bullshit shit! I'm going to be a bad-ass super hero anyway!" And then it's almost like an out of body experience when you make that transition. Almost as if some Unknowable God that might be called, I don't know, Ostrander or something...almost like he saw your true potential and he lifted you up and set you in the chair in front of a computer and he whispered proudly in your ear: "Do what you do best, Batgirl." And yet another moment in your life begins but this time with a more metaphorical BAM! And you rain hell down on the bad guys calling yourself Oracle because it's like flipping off that fucking editor and writer that one day decided your life didn't mean shit and you were a nobody and maybe it might be a nice, shocking moment to have you shot in the fucking spine. Well, fuck you, life! Batgirl keeps kicking ass!

Oh, also the computer told me that I wasn't Batgirl and that it was. Shit. I guess I was going to have to play five million games of Tic Tac Toe with it to show it the meaning of futility! Also, I could kick it in the face. That's almost the same definition! But the end of this story will have to wait until next time, Diary! I need to pee so bad!

Batgirl #39 Rating: +2 Ranking. I truly love reading this book. Burnside Batgirl has become my favorite Batgirl. Granted, I haven't read a whole lot of Batgirl comic books. Although I was reading Suicide Squad off the shelves and I loved it and I loved Oracle, so if I had to choose between this Batgirl and when she was Oracle in Suicide Squad, I'd have to say, "Fuck you. I don't have to choose at all!" So there.