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J. Jonah Jameson is a liar!


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Friday, May 10, 2002

 
Sorry. Blogging will be intermittent until I get this Electro thing wrapped up. Painting the webs on these rubber gloves is a pain in the ass, but I hope it's worth it when the pictures hit the Bugle. More later.

P. posted this at 3:29 PM.


Thursday, May 09, 2002

 
I know, I was just thinking the same thing...

P. posted this at 12:24 PM.


Wednesday, May 08, 2002

 
$114.8 million over the weekend. Yeah, that's great. I guess I'll just tell that to the landlord. "Well, no, I didn't actually get any of that money, but..."

P. posted this at 3:37 PM.

 
God, that was embarrassing. Everything was going so well. I beat Doc Ock and his stupid Moe Howard haircut again, rescued MJ, was swinging through the city with her hanging all over me. Just trying to stay cool, you know? The tights don't really hide much. And then... I don't know what happened. Right as we were coming up through a swing, I let go of the webbing and aimed another shot up ahead. Just like a million times before. No problem, right?

But nothing happened. No thwip. Thwipless. Tried again. Still nothing. Again. Nothing. We rose up into the air, hovered for one eternal moment, and started to fall. Great! Good job, Parker! And MJ was like, "It's okay, honey, don't worry about it, it happens to everybody..."

So, thanks, Thor. If you hadn't been flying by, right at that very second? I owe you one, buddy. And thanks for the advice on vitamin E; I'll give that a try.

Kind of wish MJ would quit asking about you, though...


P. posted this at 3:08 PM.

 
There's just no pleasing some people. No matter what I do, Jameson is going to twist it. What's his problem, anyway? Like I don't have enough headaches without this ranting, crew-cutted dickweed in my face all the time. I didn't have to save His Son The Astronaut, you know. I could've just stayed home and let Johnny-boy's precious little experimental space capsule crash into the Daily Bugle building or something. But I guess that would have been my--

Wait. Spidey-sense tingling. Gotta go.


P. posted this at 12:06 PM.

 
Had another "nocturnal webmission" last night. Must take bedclothes to cleaners before Aunt May suspects.

P. posted this at 12:01 PM.