The Advice Column

One of the recurring themes that come with the territory when you are a stylish gent-about-town who is also a skilled martial arts devotee and secret crime fighter who is very good at everything else too is that women tend to find you irresistible. We Unbelievables find that the ladies are never far from crime scenes, hoping to catch a glimpse of their idols (i.e. us), or showing up when we do Community-oriented deeds such as reading to blind people and taking our llamas to hospitals to provide sick people with therapy. Yes, what I am talking about is groupies. 

Rojo the llama. Not even kidding about this.

That's right - just like rock stars, movie stars and mushroom farmers, we Unbelievables have hangers-on. Little limpets, Michael calls them. Aside from the almost constant presence of the Unbelievababes, and the occasional evil-doing female such as The Double-D Dames and the Klumpmasterflash Twins, we get a lot of ardent female fans flinging themselves at us, promising all sorts of treats of the boot-knockin' variety if we will just give them the time of day. For this reason, many guys ask us just what it is about us that women love. What, they cry in their dozens, is the secret to attracting a sexy female person? What, in short, do women want? Now, we've covered this sort of topic before, but it still gets asked of us, so it bears repeating.

Clearly it's a question of finding out what they like. You find out what she likes, you'll know what she wants. And for me at least, these are the things that I know that women like. No, not like. LOVE.

Women love...

...crossing the street in miniskirts. I like that too. 

Women love the colour red.

Women love guitars. Get yourself a guitar. We have hundreds. Only Clark knows how to play one, and all he can play is "Cow-Cow Boogie". Even so, an alarming amount of women want to get him down to his BVDs at the mere sight of his gleaming red instrument. See, RED... what'd I tell you?

Women also love robots, especially ones that give them parking tickets. Go figure... I mean, you know... women, eh?

Women love "JAZZ". And big horns. Answer this ad right away and the dames will be surrounding your domicile night and day, desperate for a glimpse of your shiny instrument. What, I can't use the same innuendo-laden joke twice? 

Women love scooters. Personally I think it's the thought of riding on the back of a machine that was road-tested in near-suicidal rush-hour Rome traffic, with the scent of pasta dishes and hair oil in the air, that gets them all a-quiver.

Women love Saabs. No explanation, but there's something about a Saab that makes a woman like putty in your hand. Little tip though - the same effect can be achieved with a late-model Skoda, but please avoid the Yugos and Reliant Robins.

Any road up, that's what I've found out about women, and those tips work like a charm every time. Use them wisely, for they are like gold dust. The guys will be along later in the week to add their opinions to the discussion. At the end of this week, I assure you you'll be beating women off with a rather large stick-like object.

(Klumpmaster) Flashes In The Pan

How?

How could I have fallen so hard for the wiles of the Klumpmasterflash Twins?

Because the fact of the matter is that I did. (That Jeff ... he *had* to bring them up ...)

It's not like I turn my head at every Bombshell, Nicolette and Mary who walks past. ("Hello, Ladies!") But ... The Klumpmasterflash Twins were something special. Interesting. Exciting. Intriguing. And damned dangerous.

I mean ... look at those do's and tell me you aren't affected by their attractiveness? After all, The Unbelievables - stylish gents that we are - have an eye for the couture, you know.

Greta and Gerta tripped my trigger something fierce, though. As a young lad, I was taken by their devil-may-care style and forceful wills ... and there were two of them! More to mingle with ... !!! Yet they were instrumental in molding me into the Unbelievable I am today ... all because of their overpowering devious natures.

In those heady days of youth, you have the tendency sometimes to make grave mistakes, poor decisions, unwise turns in life's forks in the road. And I almost went down a path leading straight into Klumpmasterflash Batongaville.

Want all the sordid details? Tune in tomorrow. It turns out there are a few confidential files regarding The Twins which need to be declassified properly prior to being revealed here ...

Childhood Memories

Memorieeeees...light the corners of mah mahhhhhhhhnnnnddd...

Oh, hi folks. Jeff here. As Clark so rightly said on Monday, we do have fond memories of childhood. For example, the first time I met Marissa...

Wow. I had forgotten how much she used to look like a goofy Natalie Portman. But she clearly dug my style.

And the first time I met Michael...

Debonair fellow even then.

I remember also the first 'official' photo session.

Double knee denims were our idea, by the way, folks. Essential for when you're hiding in a crouched position for hours on end. Comfort is paramount.

I even remember an early case. We met a pair of beguiling twins, Greta and Gerta Klumpmasterflash.

They looked a lot younger than they actually were. This was Junior High.

Greta and Gerta were sweet and funny and charming, and Michael, Clark and I almost came to blows over who was going to take which one to the sock hop and which one of us fellas was going to end up as the gooseberry.
Sadly, what we did not realise right off the bat was the fact that the Klumpmasterflash Twins were evil. Pure evil. One day, we showed up and there they were, in full 'evil twin' garb.

Bad. Ass.

That didn't stop us from wanting to date them, though. Those gals was purty. But they were up to no good. They had bad news written on them like a Washington Post headline. We hadn't realised that the whole time we'd been chasing them, wooing them and generally being goofy teenage boys about them, they'd been studying our every move, finding out about all our secrets and using this info to gain favor with our early nemesis Henri Petit, that little brat!

Lil' devil.

Well, we are pretty sharp, you know, and Petit isn't, so as soon as he started making cardinal errors such as bragging to us about all the dirt he had on us, we made the connection and ditched the ladies. Actually, what Petit said to us was the childish "I know something you don't know!" which was a stupid thing to say. We knew all the stuff he knew. It was about us! Doyyy!

Nope, when it comes to the ladies, we were better off stickin' with our best gals - like Laura here.

Laura had skills. Laura could LEVITATE.