The straw that broke the camel's back.

I'm so angry that I can barely see the keyboard right now. I just - I just can't take it anymore.

But what frustrates me, what irritates me to the core of my being, is that no one cares. Nobody!

I've taken it, I've tried to be someone who just sits around and has a good attitude, but enough is enough.

You're probably wondering what has me ranting and raving. I could barely breathe tonight, I was fuming, so my wife recommended that I start up this "blogging" thing. So here I will document for the world my woes and tribulations. And probably no one will care.

Okay.

Okay.

Breathe, breathe, breathe.

So why am I so upset? It all started today as I went out for lunch. Now today in most parts of the world, people are celebrating St. Patrick's day. They are having a good time as they pinch other folks who are not wearing green, and they eat Irish food and toast one another over the joys of friendship.

But here in Urbanopolis, today will be remembered as the day that Mighty Mighty Fred took down the Vile Crusader. The day that Mighty Mighty Fred said "enough is enough!" and dealt a mighty blow that knocked the Vile Crusader two miles into an abandoned warehouse across town. Tonight, as I watched the news, all the newscasters could do was proclaim their love for MMF. A parade is already scheduled for this upcoming weekend, and I heard that the Vile Crusader is being sent to the Jackomony Prison over in Fuller County.

And I might cheer, too. I mean, I'm glad that the Vile Crusader was stopped. He did put a bomb in City Hall which would have killed many people, but thanks to MMF's sidekick Eddie the Eagle, the bomb was stopped.

So the wife tells me to be thankful. Innocent lives were spared today, and probably in the future.

But I'm still mad - and I'll tell you why.

Just one hour ago, I had a knock on my door, where stood a bunch of giggling teenage girls. I assumed that they were there to spend time with my daughter Mabel, but instead they wanted to know if they could have a souvenir. I literally threw them off the porch and went back inside, fuming.

You see, the mighty blow that sent Vile flying for two miles? I actually saw it close up. I came out of my office, preparing to head to McDonalds for a quick bite, when I saw Mighty Mighty Fred land right in front of me. Like the rest of the innocent bystanders, I scurried out of the way, but turned around and saw Vile Crusader coming screaming down the street. He was shooting those white electrical bolt thingys out of his eyes, and things weren't looking so good.

And that's when MMF hit him. And hit him hard - it would have been the grand slam of all time.

But what is so troublesome is that he used MY CAR to do it! I just got the new 09' BMW last year for a good price. The wife and I saved up for a long time, and it was my dream car, and I loved driving the smooth ride to the office each day in what I called "Black Beauty."

Well, Black beauty, after having connected with Vile's torso, now looks like a hunk of scrap metal. I stood there in shock, after the initial blow. Citizens around me were cheering as if a great victory had been won - but at what cost! MMF dropped my car and took off into the air, going after the baseball he had just walloped.

I immediately called insurance, but apparently "acts of superheroes" isn't covered in my policy. I then tried to get in touch with the League of Fairness, but their receptionist told me that they wouldn't be able to get back to me for a week or so. So what am I to do in the meantime? Joe's Towing Service charged me $250 to tow the piece of metal home, and I have the saddened remains in the garage. And now these girls wanted a piece of the fender!

My second oldest son Jack has just informed me that perhaps we can get some of the money back by eBaying the car parts across the web. Perhaps. I think I'll let him handle that - it's about time the boy got a job.

I'm taking the bus to work tomorrow. I'm very tired of the city's policies regarding superheroes. I'm glad that the villain was defeated, and all, but what about my car? I'm out thousands of dollars, and no one seems to care.

Perhaps if you read this blog, you might have a suggestion. What should I do next? Email me at jayselav@gmail.com, and I just might start a grassroots program in this city to reign in this wanton destruction.

Typing this has seemed somewhat therapeutic. I have to get going now. My brother Bob and his wife are coming over for a nice game of Bridge, and he says he has some exciting news about his security job at the prison. Maybe he can cut Vile's rations or something. That might make me feel better.