I still think it’s hilarious that the reason nobody ever figures out Superman’s secret identity or where he lives or what he does when he’s not saving the planet, is because he already told them all the Kryptonian stuff that can’t be tied to any of his human friends or family. I guarantee you the in-universe wikipedia article on Superman lists his name as Kal-El and the “personal life” section says that he lives full-time at his private fortress of solitude at the north pole. Nobody in the world looks at Clark Kent and thinks “oh my god, maybe he’s superman!” for the same reason nobody ever starts to suspect that their coworker who looks KINDA like Barack Obama is actually secretly Barack Obama – They know who Barack Obama is and know what he does and they know their coworker Greg is Greg and not Barack Obama. They have no reason to assume Barack Obama secretly moonlights as Greg The IT Guy at their workplace even though they’ve never seen Greg and Obama in the same place. At best, “Greg is secretly Obama” would be a running joke at the office, and the same is true at the Daily Planet. “Kal-El of Krypton, who lives in a CRYSTAL PALACE at the NORTH POLE and whose dayjob is SUPERMAN, sometimes puts on a suit and pretends to be a clumsy reporter and lives in a one-bedroom walkup in Metropolis” is a ridiculous concept to anyone who doesn’t already know it’s true
“Hey, that— that guy, in the corner, is that— is that Superman?”
Clark looks up from his computer at the new intern. “Oh, no,” he says. “You caught me.”
“Clark, you pull this shit every time, man,” his desk neighbor Steve says. “Shut the fuck up.”
“No, the kid’s right, I’m Superman,” Clark says. He gets out of his seat and cracks his back out. “I guess we’re gonna have a superhero fight.”
“Clark, sit back down.”
“Nope. Superhero fight.”
“Clark if you don’t sit the hell back down and finish your article by lunch I am going to tell Perry on you.”
Clark points at the intern. “You get off easy this time, buddy,” he says, and sits back down.
“So…” the intern says, very lost. “Uh…”
“That’s Clark,” a slightly older and more experienced intern says. “He’s Superman’s asshole twin.”