The thing is, I have this superpower.

My superpower doesn't give me the ability to analyze data like a supercomputer.

Or the ability to carve a 22-pound turkey just by looking at it.

Or the ability to ejaculate super-fast.

Well actually, I do have that superpower. But this one's even better.

And while my superpower can't solve world peace or stop a meteor from crashing into the earth or prevent the family dog from getting Lyme disease. . .still, it's a pretty good superpower.

You see, I have a superpower that lets me notice women's boobs.

At any time. With anybody. In any location.

Thanks to my superpower, I'm like a boob-looking-at savant.

I can be walking in the mall and spot one to my left.

There, lo and behold, a woman's boob.

I can be talking to a friend and without losing eye contact, notice one passing over his right shoulder in the distance.

There, glory be his name, a woman's boob.

I can even be watching a movie like Sinderella, and as soon as a woman with a nice butt walks into a scene, I know instinctively that I'll be seeing boobs sooner or later.

Usually sooner.

That, friends, is my gift.

The superpower of boob-looking-at.

I can spot boobs in a pair a t-shirt.

I can spot boobs in a sweater.

I can spot boobs in a long dress. A short dress. A hula dress.

I can spot boobs wearing a pink bra. A sports bra. Or no bra at all.

Gosh darn it, I wish I spotted more of those boobs.

I can look at a woman in a winter parka and think, "There's boobs in there and I'm going to look at them."

That, friends, is my gift.

The superpower of boob-looking-at.

On a surface level, I know it sounds like I'm just some sort of perverted boob-freak who's trying to justify looking at boobs.

But it's not like that at all.

I mean, I can't help it if I have a superpower. I didn't ask for this.

Christ, I don't head out the door every morning in search of boobs.

I don't wake up and think, "Boobs. If I don't see any women's boobs today, it's going to be a bad day."

"Boobs, boobs, boobs, boobs, boobs. I really need to see some boobs."

Having said that, however, I certainly would never turn my back to boobs.

Unless of course, there were boobs behind me.

In which case, my superpower would enable me to turn around and look at the boobs.

That, friends, is my gift.

The superpower of boob-looking-at.

One of the nice things about my superpower is that I can use it many times every single day. And you can't say the same about other superpowers.

I mean, you don't always need to leap tall buildings in a single bound, y'know?

Yes, with each passing moment, I continue to be amazed how there always seems to be boobs directly in front of me.

Or, boobs off to the side of me. Or boobs about fifteen feet to the left of me.

Sometimes my superpower of boob-looking-at enables me to perform acts of skill and daring that are truly astounding.

For example, if I'm walking somewhere and a woman with nice boobs is walking in front of me, my superpower enables me to maintain a perfect pace behind her, allowing me watch her boobs, and still walk. Accident free.

Or if I'm walking through the upper level of a mall and my superpower has made me aware of a woman's boobs on the lower level of the mall and I can see that she's heading toward the escalator, I instinctively know that I should bend down and tie my shoe and wait until she reaches the top floor of the mall so I can use my superpower of boob-looking-at to look at her boobs.

You don't learn things like that, gentlemen.

That, friends, is my gift.

The superpower of boob-looking-at.

At any time. With anybody. In any location.

And while I admit that my superpower is a great, great power, I caution you: please don't be jealous.

For while the greatness of my superpower enables me to notice women's boobs, the curse of my superpower is that I notice ALL women's boobs.

Alas, much to my chagrin, my superpower enables me to see the good boobs. The bad boobs. And the ugly boobs.

Unfortunately, as horrific as it sounds, my superpower is incapable of distinguishing between Sofia Vergara's boobs and Melissa McCarthy's boobs.

Q. What's the difference between Sofia Vergara's boobs and Melissa McCarthy's boobs?

A. About two hundred pounds.

Kryptonite. The Riddler's deadly puzzles. Melissa McCarthy's big fat boobs.

We all have our downfalls, y'know?

Tell me friends, do you feel my pain?

And while it's a spectacularly wonderful thing when my superpower enables me to discover perfectly tight boobs in a perfectly tight t-shirt, it must always be balanced against the agony of having to suffer through the fat old hag in the babushka that gets me every day.

Welcome to my tortured existence, gentlemen.

Oh, I try not to look at the bad ones. But the strength of my superpower is far too great.

My eyes just go to the boobs. Every time.

Frankly, I've given up fighting. I now accept my superpower for all its glory. And for all its flaws.

And so, I look. Sometimes not for long, but I always look. I guess that's what you do when you have the superpower of boob-looking-at, right?

Do you know why Superman looks through women's clothes with his X-Ray vision?

Because he can, that's why.

The goddamn lucky son of a *****.

The other thing that no one thinks about when they think about having a superpower is the responsibility of having a superpower.

For a superpower must be treated with dignity and respect. With honor and valor.

And above all else, with a boatload of secrecy.

Not for privacy, mind you.

No no no no no.

A superpower must be kept secret for the safety of others.

That's why I've spent years training myself to use my superpower of boob-looking-at without anyone else noticing that I'm looking at boobs.

Especially my wife.

Believe it or not, not even my wife knows that I have the superpower of boob-looking-at. And I do that strictly for her safety.

That's why when I'm with my wife and my superpower senses another woman's boobs, I look at them with a simple turn of my head. Or a quick dart of my eyes. Because I can't let her know.

She can't ever know.

Other times I'll be walking with my wife and she'll point to a woman and say to me, "Now she's got nice boobs."

Clearly, thanks to my superpower of boob-looking-at, I noticed those nice boobs like, two hours earlier. But I can't let on that I was aware of her discovery prior to her discovery. Because then I'd be discovered.

MY WIFE: Now she's got nice boobs.

ME: Huh? Who? Where? What are you talking about? Who cares? I love you, honey. Let's hold hands.

I shield my wife from my superpower not for my own selfish reasons, but for her own good. Because if she ever discovered my superpower, the ramifications could be severe.

Or severed, if you know what I mean.

Listen, you've all read comic books.

You know that when someone has a superpower, the superhero can't really let anyone find out about it, right?

Because when bad guys know stuff like that, Jesus Christ, that's the kind of crap those guys live for.

If bad guys ever discover the secret identity of a man possessing a superpower, you know what happens.

The first thing they always do is hurt him where it can hurt him the most: they go after his chick.

And I would never, ever put my wife at risk like that.

Hell, I don't know who's out there. I don't know who hates me. I don't know who's jealous of my superpower of boob-looking-at.

You've read comic books. You know what I'm talking about.

I can just see it now.

If my enemies ever found out about my superpower, they'd probably kidnap my wife. Then they'd torture her.

They'd take her away, leaving me alone. . .in nothing more than the silence of my own world.

Alone with nothing more than the emptiness of my lonely fortress.

Alone with no one telling me what to do. Or what to fix. Or to complain that I don't make enough money.

Alone with nothing more than a couch, the television and the remote control.

Hey, um, listen, if you wanna tell anybody about my superpower, it's OK.

Really, I'm fine with it.

The thing is, I really don't care that much if anybody finds out. Swear to God.

What am I gonna do if people find out about my superpower, hide?

Listen, if some guy hears that I have the superpower of boob-looking-at and he hates me that much for it, what am I supposed to do? Put my wife in seclusion?

I mean, it's not like he'll know that I live at One Maple Street and that my wife is usually home by herself between noon and 2 PM and our alarm system is broken or anything.

How could he know stuff like that, y'know?

So anyway, it's really all right to spread the word. In fact, tell everyone you know about my superpower. Seriously.

Today, if you could.

And while you're doing that, I'll be out in the world, roaming the streets, using my superpower to the best of my ability.

Of course, if I see anything good, you can bet that I'll then be using my other superpower.

You see, I also have the ability to bend steel with my bare hands.

Well, I like to think it's steel.