Sad Sack

Sad Sack
I am Sad Sack

Vote for my powers...

Not that I give a crap about your opinion, but in each of my posts you can vote for which "super" powers you think I used best (because your approval means so goddamned much to me).

Evil Eye/ Wall of Impenetrable Despair/Really Awkward /Stinkybutt/ Tedium


In the beginning, Sad Sack seemed like your everyday, run of the mill, small person. She/It had had all of the tools for a normal existence:

Seen here out-pouting Macaulay Culkin

And then, one day at the beach, something horrible happened:


The exact series of events is unknown, but billions of scientists and experts agree on the following variables: 1. Puberty may have been a factor, 2. Gypsy curse, and 3. Jellyfish sting. Oh yes, the world’s most brilliant minds have deduced that these three factors were the ingredients that led to perfect storm (I’m totally mixing metaphors here) that hatched Sad Sack unto the world on that fateful day so long ago. The essence of each ingredient became the magical fairy powder with which Sad Sack busts ass. For example:

Puberty – Extreme awkwardness and mood swings (including despair and tedium)
Gypsy Curse – Evil Eye and Stinkybutt
Jellyfish Sting – Boneless blob of undulating gel

With these powers at her disposal, Evil-doers don’t stand a chance. Much like a Cooler at a casino, Sad Sack’s mere proximity can suck the life and will to do wrong, hell, the will to do anything, right out of them. More often than not, criminals will give up on the spot and crouch in a corner contemplating ending it all. It’s like shooting fish in a barrel. Criminal fish with black eyemasks and handguns.
Hooray for Sad Sack.

My Pedestrian Identity

I assume everyone reading this had to go through many levels of extremely tight security and clearances because I can’t just give my “real” identity to anyone. I mean, you all must be members of the Awesome League of Awesomeness, right? Right…If any of you squeal my secrets, I swear I will open up a can of Stinkybutt on you so fast, you’ll have to shower for weeks before the fumes will stop radiating from you like heat waves off a sidewalk.

Ahem. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, when I’m not fighting injustices and/or unnecessary cheerfulness, I go by the name of “Christina.” By day I’m an art student at an unnamed university (by night, I cry myself to sleep while clutching a two-dollar bottle of wine – but you don’t need to know that). I disguise my blobtacular physique in polo shirts and jeans from Walmart (Faded Glory FTW) and nobody is the wiser.

Sometimes, my superpowers get the best of me and before I know it, I’ve blasted an entire classroom in Really Awkward sauce. Luckily, I have years of practice mopping up that mess.

Here I am as "Christina"