It Matters Not

Wednesday Jeff said:

"Michael will be with you on Friday with more tales of danger, toilets (maybe) and other stuff (you never know with Michael, he can be kinda random sometimes)."

Just when and where have I gotten this reputation, I ask in all sincerity?

Look: I shy away from using two words day in and day out and those two words are "always" and "never." But I will state this: There is always a method to my madness. And that goes double for my randomness.

Yes, I'll admit: I can be random at times. But we've all heard the term "what goes around comes around" ... right? I just resemble that remark, is all.

So if you keep that in in the forefront of your mind, we'll get along just fine.

Now, back to business ...

Clark started the week off with "It's not that we'll refuse to offer our services ... it's just that we're going to involve ourselves with actual crimes and credible threats, where innocent people might actually be at risk." And he's right. It's not that we don't care, it's simply we don't care about what restroom someone uses.

It's like the time when we first moved into the Unbelieva-Base way back when. Understand, Nevada is hot and we were helping out the moving staff. It was the first time the locals noticed I wasn't wearing pants which - as you well know - has been a non-issue for years now. Back then? Not so much. But does anyone remember the uproar I caused that day? No. You know why?

Because it just doesn't matter.

(L to R: Clark, me, Jeff)

This photo shows us at Union Square on assignment years ago,

one of the first where I convinced the guys going pantsless

would up our popularity quotient. It was a great move and it worked.

(Side Note: It was Jeff's idea for he and Clark to wear shoe lifts.

"It will bolster our sex appeal" Jeff claimed. He was right on the money.

It took hours just to finish all the autograph and photo requests.)

Remember all those goats at the beginning of last year? No. You know why?

Because it just doesn't matter.

You have to admit: They were mighty cute ...

How about all the complaints and noise and broken glass clean-up from Clark tossing Henri Petit out uncountable windows over the years not to mention all of Petit's protestations? Right, you got it. It just doesn't matter.

Hey ... this happens sometimes. (Hokay ... lots of times. Get over it.)

That parade we held a couple years ago in honor of all the Unbelieva-Babes in our employ, both past and present? Sure, it caused a scene. Traffic up the wazoo. (And, to be fair, we DID work a deal with Stiletto Flats officials about all the trash generated on the streets because we're good guys after all.) But when all was said and done, no one even recalls some of the faux pas that came to pass. All anyone talks about is the fantastic cocktail party we threw post parade back at the Unbelieva-base.

There was a lot of trash to deal with ...

Because, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn't really an issue to begin with ...

... which brings me full circle right back to this toilet use deal:

Seriously, folks: It. Just. Doesn't. Matter.

Or, as The Clarkster said when he put it to bed Monday:

"... adults with a modicum of maturity and self-confidence are remarkably good at handling those circumstances."

And that's the truth, Ruth.

Up Around The U-Bend

HB2, or the "Bathroom Bill" in North Carolina is one of those silly laws (well, not yet - it's just a bill) made up by dumb ol' guys whose views are still firmly entrenched in the olden days when men were men and women did the housework. These people simply do not understand how a human body works and they think that there's something intrinsically dangerous about letting people of differing genders mingle freely in the bathrooms of the world. These are the people who think that being gay is a disorder of some sort, that you can "catch gay" and that gays can be "scared straight" when we all know that it isn't a choice, it just happens. Which is why we are not concerned with the restrooms of N.C.

These people wouldn't know a dangerous loo if they got their heads shoved down one and flushed for 15 minutes. We've seen some bathroom danger in our time, let me tell ya.

Critters in the lav is one of the nasty things that can occur
from time to time. You wouldn't want to see these when heading for a little private time.

*shiver*

Then of course there are toilets that are dangerous even without animals.

Could give one a nasty cut.

Careful not to move about too much in this one.

Then there are the ones that do your head in.

How am I supposed to get to it?

For those of you that want to know how it feels to take a dump on a ski jump.

How am I supposed to sit on this?

Make your own joke here.

Then, there are the rogue toilets. The truly evil crappers. The ones that swallow humans whole.

The best thing to do is to follow some good advice, usually found in any bathroom stall in the world:

Oh, and cat owners... this has to stop.

Michael will be with you on Friday with more tales of danger, toilets (maybe) and other stuff (you never know with Michael, he can be kinda random sometimes).

Potty Problems? We're not interested

There are lots of silly laws on the books. In Arkansas, law provides that school teachers who bob their hair will not get a raise. In Minnesota, a person may not cross state lines with a duck atop his head. In Utah, no one may have sex in the back of an ambulance if it is responding to an emergency call (otherwise, have at it, young lovers).

"Oh, turn on the siren! Yes, yes! Turn on the siren!"

Generally, we, The Unbelievables, don't get involved in enforcing laws like that or pursuing those who break them. Not because they're not valid ...surely, they make or made sense to someone at some point... but because outside of whatever common sense applied at the time, their stupidity far outweighs their validity. That's why we won't be putting our muscle behind HB2, or the "Bathroom Bill" or the "Nobody Look At Me While I Make Doody Law" in North Carolina. It's not that we'll refuse to offer our services in North Carolina like Bruce Springsteen, Ringo Starr and Blue Man Group (those are separate acts and not performing together, unfortunately).

"Me too! Kinda. Next year. Probably."

It's just that we're going to involve ourselves with actual crimes and credible threats, where innocent people might actually be at risk. We're not going to police who goes pee-pee where or otherwise oppress anybody's rights. At The Unbelievabase, we have lots of restrooms, none of which are labeled. It's because we entertain frequently and beverages are served and when people drink, well, you know. It just makes sense as hospitable hosts to provide facilities for everybody there. As it turns out, adults with a modicum of maturity and self-confidence are remarkably good at handling those circumstances.
Enough about that. Just wanted to let you know that in the highly unlikely case of your Uncle Enos in Ansonville suddenly deciding to put on a frock so he can hang out in outhouses with the hopes of catching an errant glimpse of some hoo-ha's, something he has never done before, we won't be placing the kind of priority on chasing him down as we would an international ring of diamond thieves.

"Don't disparage me. I'm not hurting anyone."

We'll leave that up to the local authorities.

"Well, wouldja looky there!"
"I told you she had an Adam's Apple! I told you!!"

Unbelievable... And Yet Believable

Y'know, there's a reason we're called The Unbelievables, beyond the fact that we thought it sounded cool, and the fact that we are all three unbelievably handsome, unbelievably strong, unbelievably skilful with a firearm, unbelievably good at UnbelievaFu, unbelievably modest and self-effacing etc.

It's because even though most of our adventures sound Unbelievably outlandish, silly, made up, or as some would say, UNBELIEVABLE, they are all 100% true, not made up, completely devoid of fiction. Really.

Like the time we defeated the Giant Silly Putty Blob Monster of Sandusky...

Stand well back, ma'am. The Unbelievables are here!

We got this! 

Then there was the time we captured rogue hairdresser Shadie McQuade, the woman responsible for a host of silly hairstylist names, like "Hair-Berdashery", "Cutting Crew", "Hair It Iz", and the like. We snared her using only a clothes line and some pegs.

Then there was the time when we successfully rounded up the Chintz Brothers, a pair of crooks whose specialty was disguising themselves as items of furniture.

Can you see them in this photo?

And let's not forget the Attack of The Giant Chickens. (Well, not so much an attack, really - a farmer breeding huge hens failed to recognise the sheer brute strength of outsized poultry and they busted through the fence and made a break for it. We were drafted in to round them up, and that's me you can see riding on the back of Meredith. We briefly dated afterwards, but it didn't work out. I am a handsome, rich, playboy crimefighter who loves jazz and poetry and long walks on the beach, whereas she is AN ENORMOUS CHICKEN).

We also have arch-villains and nemeses we haven't even talked about yet in these here pages. People such as...

The Amazing Bird Dude (we've told him before his name is silly, but he refuses to change it.)

The Pink Nightmare. Still just 13 and as evil as they come.

The Lawn Sisters. Yes, sisters.

Pimpmarshal Pimp the Pimpinator.

Ked Nelly, the Bucket Bandit.

The Middle-Aged Rubbish Stupid Turtles. Need we say more?

So you see, a lot of what we go through on a regular basis can sound like completely daft fiction, stuff from the realms of wacky fantasy. But rest assured, it's all true. That's why we are..

THE UNBELIEVABLES!

Around the clock Unbelievabaility

As Michael said, being an Unbelievable is a 24/7 thing. It's not a job we do, it's who and what we are. As a result, there's a lot of pressure to be 'on' all the time. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. Why would I? How could I?

This happened at the grocery store.

Still, it's a little overwhelming sometimes. Walking into a room and seeing people move away from windows. Guys pulling up next to you at a stoplight and revving their engines. That kind of thing. And yes, even when we sleep. I'm sure you can imagine how often our foes think that sleepy time is a perfect time to ambush us with an assassin or two. Luckily, assassins don't like to share their duties and often bicker among themselves as to who gets to do the actual assassinating.

Usually how such disputes are settled

Even once we dispense with silliness like that and actually get down to the business of nighty-night, we have to deal with our own equally Unbelievable subconscious minds, where things get really weird. For example, here are three frequent nightmare scenarios that frequently keep me from having a restful night...

Oh no, which one is the secret entrance to The Unbelieva-base?!?

And why is there a single, unmatched sock in every dryer?

Shrunken Corvette!

Not at all what Prince was singing about.

Henri Grand!

"Who's a baby now?"

All I can say is thank goodness for safe, non-habit forming, specially-designed-for-us, pharmaceutical sleep aids.

Unbelievability

Truth be told, The Unbelievables? We're just average schmoes.

The difference is we go the extra mile to capitalize on our ingenuity, good looks and innovative methods of forward thinking, productivity and problem solving for the betterment of the general public at large.

See what happens when you initiate a little "get up and go" and put your money where your mouth is?

As we've stated in the past, Unbelievability isn't for everyone. As a matter of fact, it's really only fit for a mere handful of people, several who we've mentioned previously. (Elvis and Hugh Hefner among them. But that's, old news.)

Today I'll demonstrate how Unbelievability is an extension of who we are in practically every aspect of our lives, not just when ne'er-do-wells decide to raise their heads and perform their own brand of monkey business.

In my case, for example, just the other night I had a dream, a rather odd one ...

You gotta love'em, shenanigans and all ...

I was on a test flight of some new, super secret, zippy-fast military craft. In tow were none other than George Clooney, Brad Pitt and Matt Damon (all of which have submitted credentials requesting honorary membership as Unbelievables, by the way ... but that's another story) along with a contingent of military personnel.  The flight began routinely enough. We took off from Edwards Air Force Base outside Palmdale, California. The venture was scheduled to buzz by all the national parks in Utah, onward to the Coors Brewery plant in Golden Colorado, a quick zip over The Grand Canyon, then back to Edwards via a flyover of Disneyland.

Not actual super secret, zippy-fast military craft.

(Duh! Hello! It's secret!)

Long story short, we got into some trouble shortly after the Disneyland flyby - the craft started going down. We were headed for some remote area of the Angeles National Forest and no one, not the pilot of the craft, Clooney nor the rest, had a clue as to what the problem was. (Like high-profile actors have any clue on how the moving parts of aircraft - and new, super secret, zippy-fast aircraft at that - function in the real world.)

I did a little poking around in one of the control panels in the cockpit of the craft while the pilot was struggling to keep us in the air. "You know" I said while we were quickly losing altitude "back at the Unbelieva-base we have technology in our villain-proof washing machine entry that appears similar to the configuration you're using here in this hoidy-toidy airplane," I mentioned to the pilot.

"Well don't just stand there! See what you can do to keep this thing aloft ... and make it quick! We've got about a minute before we crash into the treetops!" he cried.

It was a simple fix, really. Technical, but simple. The details are rather boring (as things like that usually are in dreams) but it was a rather quick and effortless fix.

Result? I saved the day, we made it back to Edwards without a scratch and ended up sitting down for congratulatory cocktails and a friendly little game of poker between the lot of us.

I was startled awake from my dream as it was time to head back to Stiletto Flats and the Unbelieva-base after our little adventure. The thing that jolted me back to reality was when I realized my poker winnings consisted of 9 $100 bills, 2 $79.00 bills and a few 10s and fivers ... all of which were fake except for the 10s and 5s.

Those guys! They're such a bunch of cards ... even in dreams!

You get the idea, though, of how we not only embody The Unbelievables but subconsciously practice our crafts even when asleep. It's a way of life, 24/7.

I mean, for me anyway. I can't speak personally for Jeff and Clark.

But they'll give you an example or two themselves as the week progresses ...

Bob Diggity, no doubt

Jeff liked Bob.
Michael did not.
I was in the middle.
Hey, there was simply no way he could be nearly as bad as the last guy.
Unless he was that bad or possibly even worse.

So I followed Michael down his rabbit hole.
His first reason for being anti-Bob was his last name: Diggity. A simple search of Bob's genealogical history revealed that he is a direct descendant of Sir Bob of Diggity, who famously led the Raviolists to victory over the Shermites in the battle of Dachshund in 1843.

Second, he didn't like the disparity he found in photos of Bob. Well, everyone knows that sometimes people look different in photos, due to a variety of circumstances...

So no big deal there. Which left one thing: Michael's insistence on giving the job to Paris. What (beyond the obvious) was up with that?

As it turns out, Paris is the captain of a team in Michael's clothing-optional volleyball league.

There's a heated rivalry at play between these two teams and Michael had wagered a position of employment with Paris during their last match. Michael's team lost.

One wonders how hard he tried to win though.

Further investigation revealed that Paris isn't remotely qualified for the job, a fact of which she is painfully aware, Her plan was to call on her teammates to help her out from time to time.

All for one...

Bottom line: We hired the infinitely qualified Bob for the mailroom... AND we found positions for Paris and all her teammates in the newly created Unspecified Administrative Tasks Department.

EVERYBODY WINS!