Who cares if Superman looks like he gets a blowout at the same place Bruno Mars gets his every morning. Who cares if Superman washed his signature period panties in the his bathroom sink, hung them up to dry on the towel rack and forgot to put them on before he flew out the winda. Who cares if that suit was made from the blue perforated leather loafers I had as a kid that made me look like an old priss queen on a cruise to Italy. Who cares if he’s probably wearing a muscle suit underneath that shit made from a mold of Madge’s biceps and Jada Pinkett’s twelve-pack. Who cares that it’s taking me four Who Cares to say that it’s all about the “It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s happy to see you!” bulge!
That bulge should be wearing a little red cape and flying hos in distress to safety. That bulge should get a spin-off. It’s a total BILF. Or since this is Hollywood we’re talking about, it’s a total CILF (Codpiece I’d Like to Fuck).