Hello, Mystery Ladies

The other night we were just kicking back in the backyard, just shooting the breeze after a successful day's Unbelievable-ness, when we heard the all-too-familiar sound of female chatter and giggling from beyond the perimeter fence.

Of course, we Unbelievables are used to female attention - when you are a trio of handsome, witty, crimefighting playboys, getting mobbed by lady fans (Hello, ladies!!!) desperate for an autograph, a selfie, a lock of your hair, a peck on the cheek, a full-on snog or a piece of your clothing, becomes as workaday as, say, putting on a shirt. 

We sent Clark to the fenceline to investigate the cooing and tittering sounds. Mainly because he happened to be standing up at the time, having just gone to grab himself another King Prawn skewer from the BBQ. (Not that I'm surprised - those suckers, marinated in coconut and lime as they were, were outstanding.) Michael and myself, meanwhile, were stretched out on our sunloungers with an ice cold cerveza in hand, reflecting on the day's events. We'd taken on a security gig at a top fashion shoot for some foxy wenches (sorry, models), a world-class photog and crew at a top-secret location. It was our job to make sure nobody got IN or OUT of the location lest the super-secret new fashions were leaked to the knockoff merchants selling it at rock bottom prices in your local flea market.

It's all zigzags and knee socks this autumn. (Not actually the photo shoot we were at).

Clark begrudgingly ambled towards the fenceline where the ladylike giggles and sighs could still be heard.

"HELLO??" he cried. "CAN WE HELP YOU!?"

I distinctly heard a lady's voice say, "Ooh, it's Clark - the strong one!", and then another say, "Ooh, I just LOVE it when he kicks Henri Petit out of a window!"

What happened next, we're not sure. Firstly, after Michael and I had had a good chuckle at what we were hearing, we looked up to see Clark reaching the fenceline, peering through the slats and then the sound of high-heeled shoes running, car doors opening and closing, a car slamming into gear and wheels spinning, tires squealing and they were gone. So fast was their exit that Clark didn't even see a license plate. He vaguely saw the outline of the vehicle which he said was either a Renault Espace or a Lamborghini Countach, but he couldn't be too sure. 

Either this...

or this. 

I saw him bend down and pick something up, then bring it over to show us. Here's what he had found - a card with this image on one side...

and on the reverse, a handwritten "See you later boys!"

Who are these mystery women (If indeed, they ARE women)? And what do they want?

This investigation is ongoing, so we'll clue you in as the week progresses.

Happy Memorial Day

Well, folks, it's Memorial Day and you know what that means...

Splashin' around with the Unbelievababes?

Well, no, actually what I was thinking was... BBQ!

However you celebrate on this Memorial Day, take time to remember and appreciate those hard working men, women and animals of the Armed Forces, whether it be Army...

Navy..

Air Force...

or Marines...

We salute you!

Count Me In!

Many apologies for the lateness of this report, but I was doing some last-minute packing. What? Yes, I'm definitely going, even if the others aren't. Here are my reasons.

1. I love parades, with their noisy vuvuzelas, endless drill teams and majorettes and token naked people.
2. I love free stuff. Who doesn't?
3. I love hotels. Especially the minibar with its great pricing structure. What's that ya say? $20 for a can of Pepsi? Don't mind if I do!
4. I love banquets, especially ones in my honour, as long as there are plenty of whipped potatoes to go round. It doesn't even have to be Tuesday, for Pete's sake!
5. I love to travel. I love sitting next to complete strangers on cramped airplanes making small talk about clouds and eating from miniature furnaces made from plastic. I love not knowing where to put that infuriating clingfilm, drinking from small cups and watching a movie I would gladly pay to avoid coming into contact with.
6. I love BBQ. Seriously, who doesn't love charred meat products slathered in brown sauce accompanied by masses of side dishes of indeterminate origin?

So what if we've never met these people before? So what if we know absolutely nothing about them? A quick Google search should sort that out...

Holy cow! Look at this place!

 Sign me up! What could possibly go wrong!?


(Note: this entry was a scheduled post, written before Jeff took off in a hurry to the airport. We are still waiting to hear from him. - Michael and Clark)

We Love A Parade ... but ...

So ... this isn't fishy. 

Nope. 

Not in the least ...

Hey, Unbelievables!

We want to throw you a parade next weekend in your honor! Just for the heck of it! Because we really like you guys!

Think all three of you can make it to West Palm Beach, Florida to my personal botanical garden which houses the only rainforest in the United States? All you need to do is get to an airport and everything else will be taken care of on us: Transportation, food, accommodations, the works! You won't have anything to worry about!

Be here Friday night and if you're here early enough we'll take you out to dinner. Otherwise, your hotel will be waiting ... and we'll have separate rooms for all three of you.

Saturday? That's the big parade. It starts at noon so dress in your colorful best. It will run about an hour with a big BBQ at the tail end of it for you guys! And ... that night? It's party time!

Sunday - after you sleep in - we'll have a late morning send off before you head back.

I'm sure you guys can make it. If you have any questions, get in contact with me. Your plane tickets are coming via FedEx. You should have them sometime Monday afternoon.

See you then!

Gene Joyner
Gene Joyner's Unbelievable Acres Botanic Gardens

I passed the info along to Clark and Jeff so they can look into this further.

You never know what kind of parade may be being held "in our honor" ... if you know what I mean ...

For Your Consideration

Unbelievinars™ are sure popular with everyone! We got so dogged by demands for more and more of them, on such a variety of topics, that we put out a call for more and more guest speakers at our Unbelievamininars™, and got sent a bunch of emails, photos, letters, and videos from people who are eager to share their collective wisdom and talents with a waiting world.

Like Unbelievinar™ graduate Frank Ferrone, who is keen to demonstrate the correct etiquette for hosting a BBQ and fondue party.

"Dear Unbelievables, please consider my one-day intensive course on how to be stone cold munchin' at a high class luncheon and still impress the ladies! Yours, Frank."

The Hotpants Syndicate, with their 'Hotpants 101' Fashion Show and try-before-you-buy...

Louisa Malteser, with "98 Ways With Pasta"...

Denise and Teresa Malteser (and pals), with "Make That 99 Ways"

The Bikini Twins, with "Hot Dogs Are Life, Hot Dogs Are Love"...

La Familia Malteser, with "Spaghetti Weirdness 2.0"...

And Vincent Price, with "Stabbing Meat For Fun And Profit"...

All of those are currently under consideration from the boys and myself. So look out for further notifications of these and other classes popping up in a neighbourhood near you in the not too distant future.

Footnote: We sometimes get sent videos for classes that sound interesting but turn out to be very strange indeed. We got sent this one by a lady calling herself 'Auntie Angel' and claiming to be some sort of 'sexpert'. Well, naturally, we were interested, but when we saw the video below, we were stunned and then horrified. The video purports to be some kind of tutorial about orally pleasuring a man with the use of a grapefruit. We were still interested if a little perplexed, so we manfully pressed on, until the lady whipped out a (ahem) rubber man-part and simulated fellatio on said item. That part was visually fine, but apparently she had just dropped a live squid into a garbage disposal unit right at the same moment. At least, that's what it sounded like...

Oh, and before I show you this, I should add...NSFW!!!
The 2:45 mark is where it gets weird.



One thing is for sure. 'Auntie Angel' will most definitely NOT be teaching any Unbelievamininars™ any time soon.

The Case Of King Cotton (Part 1)

Hi there, readers. Have you ever noticed that when you buy hot dogs in the grocery store, some are what you might call "normal" in colour, i.e. a sort of pinkish-brownish, meaty colour, 

and yet others are a bright, unnatural, near-neon red?

Did you ever wonder why that was?

Well, now it can be revealed. It all began one rainy August afternoon. I remember it like it was only yesterday...

The guys and I were entertaining some friends on the patio by flambéing some franks and downing a couple pitchers of Moscow Mules each. Suddenly Michael noticed a few RED hot dogs in amongst the selections, and, being naturally curious, shouted "What the blinky o'stinky is up wit dat, yo? Let's get those suckers to the lab for analysis!"

Well, long story short, we found them to be laced with all kinds of weird chemicals and additives. A lethal cocktail of mind-control drugs and laxatives, with a bit of Roundup thrown in for good measure. Who could be responsible for this fiendish tomfoolery? We searched the kitchen bin for clues, and found this alarming piece of evidence...

King Cotton?! We scratched our heads. Then we scratched our armpits. Then we pretended to be monkeys for a bit of fun (those Moscow Mules were really strong). Then we scratched each others' backs. Just who was this fiend King Cotton?

A bit of research found that King Cotton (if that was his real name) was a tricky character, who was clearly a master of disguise. Various pictures surfaced, all different.

Dagnabbit! That foul demon! What on earth was his game? Here he was, lacing wieners with poisons, but to what end? And why the disguises?

I'll leave it to the others to tell you how we quashed King Cotton and his evil trickery. We weren't going to take this...

...sitting down. He had to be stopped. You take it, boys.

If that's not mind control at work, you tell me what it is.