Peter Parker has all the luck. I mean, sure, he’s small and bookish, and upon first glance, you may think he represents some kind of New York City college kid archetype. If you work in publicity, you might even cattily remark that he’s obviously a virgin and probably has a small penis. And, although I cannot verify whether or not the latter is true (no, really, I can’t), I can assure you that homeboy’s got it goin’ on, fo’ real.

While attending a field trip with his class from Midtown High School, Peter was bitten by an irradiated spider that… CHANGED HIS LIFE FOREVER. Seriously, though, even if his intrinsic passion for science wasn’t enough to get him into Stuy, the spider-like abilities he acquired from the spider bite were enough to cement his future success.

With Parker’s transformation and subsequent new/alter identity came an overwhelming amount of responsibility. Because of his super powers, he felt compelled to save the troubled citizens of New York City on a daily basis, that it was his destiny. The moments he was unsuccessful (he claims responsibility for the deaths of his Uncle Ben and former girlfriend Gwen Stacy, as examples) rendered him pained, conflicted, and with enough elements to complete the essay on his journey as a hero.

But, we shall not dwell on the negative. Because, really, super powers? Totally awesome. And, the additional confidence has made Peter a skillful panty-dropper, to boot. His girlfriend Mary Jane is a total babe. And, despite being accepted to Empire State University on an academic-based scholarship that didn’t nearly cover the cost of admission (surprise, surprise!), Parker was smart enough to become his own paparazzo, taking pictures of himself as Spidey fighting crime so that he could sell the shots to the Daily Bugle as a freelance photographer.

More than anything, though, Peter Parker’s web-slinging capabilities, brought on by the spider bite, allow him to never have to take the G when the fucking L-train isn’t running. Bitch.

I mean, I hope they make a deodorant for a guy like that. I can’t afford to be both a jerkface AND stinky. Heavens no!

While I have no idea, just to be on the safe side: Please, nobody fart!

And, I’d be one of those ignorant people who’d say something like, “I’d totally ride this to work every day!” except I know how much I hate hearing tourists say that when they’re all up in my grill during my commute to work!

‘Cause, like, reading a newspaper on the subway during rush hour wasn’t already hard enough…