Remember a couple years back when Miley Cyrus twerked her behind into the crotch of creepy perv Robin Thicke on live TV? Remember the fallout from that in the ensuing weeks, when every day brought with it a new photo of Miley doing something outrageous and either nearly naked and/or sticking out her tongue in a bizarre way?
The papers loved it. The E! Channel thrived on it. The internet was alive with swirling rumours of Miley's latest outrageous act. And then she went and did something that sent every pap and hack and Harvey Levin wannabe into meltdown.
She showed up to last year's VMA's with a homeless guy as her date. No, don't worry, not an old dirt-encrusted geezer, but a young man she had met through her work with a homeless shelter.
She had brought him along to accept the Video Of The Year Award in her stead, to draw attention to the problems faced by homeless youth and LBGTQ persons. Pretty durn cool.
However, the media chose to focus on the "Weeeell, lookit here! Her's datin' a homeless dude!" angle rather than the noble cause she was trying to highlight. Everyone was up in arms and most had an opinion they wanted to share. Shock! Horror! the very thought! Does he have his own cardboard box and massive bag of empty pop cans? etc.
That's when the Milester (as we call her) gave us a tinkle on the old dog and bone. How to convince the world that despite dressing slightly inappropriately and grinding butt-to-crotch with a 36-year-old leering ripoff merchant in a stripey suit whose dad used to play Mr. Seaver on the telly, she was genuinely trying to do good?
We invited her over to the Unbelievabase and, in order to make sure she was on the level and prepared to go the extra mile, we put her through her paces with a hefty dose of Unbelievinars™, covering all manner of topics from "Macrame 101" to "Wearing jumpsuits for fun and profit" and everything in between. Not only that, but a few rudimentary UnbelievaFu™ classes too. She was ready to become one of our network of moles, snitches and ass-kicking informants.
So now came the task of trying to help El Mileena* with her image problems.
So we and The Milereeno* put our heads together. We spitballed, tossed ideas around and even played word association. Finally one day, while lounging in the jacuzzi with Venus de Miley* after a particularly gruelling session of Greco-Roman MahJongg, Michael shouted excitedly.
"Eureka!!" he exclaimed. "By Jingo!! Great Scott! etc., etc."
We asked Michael for his idea, and by golly, it was good. A little rough around the edges (like Michael himself) but with a few tweaks here and there, we knew it was gonna work.
With our help, she set up the Happy Hippie Foundation, a charity which helps rally young people to fight injustice facing homeless youth, LGBTQ youth and other vulnerable populations. It's a pretty sweet deal.
You can read more about it right here - happyhippies.org
And of course, because it was so markedly different from what had gone before, the world sat up and took notice.
And hey, guess what? Miley-Molly-Mandy* is hosting this year's VMA's. We like to think that we have more than a little to do with that.
You see, we knew that underneath all that outrageous behaviour and tongue-displaying, Miley is a caring person. But she had no direction. She had good intentions, but no idea of where to push and pull. It was your very own Unbelievables that, ahem, licked her into shape.
Keep up the good work, Miley O'Shea.* Oh, and by the way, anytime you want to drop in for another game of Fless**, we're ready.
*Yet another nickname we gave her.
** An interesting game, sort of a cross between Chess and The Highland Fling.
That damned Henri Petit ...
I hate him with a passion.
He's smug, cynical, self-absorbed and psychotic. Which makes it all the more fun when we foil his plans. Because he wails like the baby that he is when we do so.
Want to know how much of a little shit-head Petit is? His name says it all. Remember Quentin Tarantino's film Inglorious Basterds? Yep ... that's where the moniker came from. Petit liked the way "LaPadite" rolled off Col. Hans Landa's tongue when he said it, especially in French, and the rest is history. (Regardless of the fact the little doink spells his name differently.) All the other names Petit went by - Beauregard, Shale, El Squirto, Big Bad Jim - didn't have "the flare" (his words) that "Petit" has. What a maroon. What a self-centered, snot-nosed twit.
And oh ... the crimes he's committed. Not all of which we've been able to pin him with. Petit is nothing if not sly.
And some of the things he's pulled ... wow. Notorious. Heinous. Utterly villainous.
Here are some examples:
This is Leslie. Leslie was employed by Petit back in the early 80s and was utilized as Petit's unwitting foil time and again. Petit worked his evil plans so that Leslie took the fall every time, leaving Petit to scurry off into the sunset unscathed. That's the kind of guy Petit is.
And the worst of all? You may not realize it from the photo above but Leslie is a guy.
This is Candy. Candy was once an Unbelieva-Babe ... until Petit seduced her with promises that, with a little common sense, you knew couldn't be realized. That didn't stop Petit from trying to infiltrate our base through Candy, though. To be fair, she was a rather new Unbelieva-Babe at the time, still "in training" with us, so she was easily manipulated by Petit's devious machinations. To date, we have no idea where Candy is, how Petit employed her nor, ultimately, what Petit did with her.
Want to see one of Petit's proudest accomplishments? Here you go:
Yep. Oprah. He's been cultivating her for years, subtley working his particular brand of devilishness to fog Oprah's mind more thoroughly than a world famous Chicago dog with everything on it. Need I say anything more?
Lately? We've found the scummy, filthy hand of Petit working pop culture:
Again, yep. Not only did he procure Miley Cyrus to do his bidding, but he got Robin Thicke in on "the party" as well. Pretty damned low of him, don't you think?
Regarding the magazines that have surfaced over the years Jeff mentioned? Personally (and I think I'm in the minority here, but Clark will let you know Friday) I'm of the mind there's no such thing as bad publicity. Petit and his ilk think they're cutting us off at the knees, but, really, each time one of these things shows up on the sales racks in the grocery stores and staring at you when you enter a 7-11 to get a Slurpee they simply let the public know we're on the job. Regardless of the fact I eat ham salad.
These are just some of the reasons Petit is continually at the top of our list of ne'er do wells. You'd think a villain who looks like a baby could be easily nabbed and dealt with ... but nothing could be further from the truth ...
Usually we Unbelievables only lie when it absolutely calls for it. To us, the truth is paramount. Honesty is the best policy and all that malarkey. But there are those special times when a bit of creativity in the truth department is called for, and we have to tell a little fib, a porky pie or an outright whopper.
And last week, we lied to you, the people of Earth. We were less than honest about our activities in Zurich. We actually did the unthinkable and completely fabricated the whole thing.
So what were we actually doing? Well, fear not, good citizens. All shall be revealed in good time. Suffice it to say at this point in time we were doing something for the good of personkind.
It came to our attention that Zurich, where prostitution is legal, is fast becoming the 'in' place for stressed-out executives to conveniently 'have a meeting', which as we know is code for a quickie with a streetwalker.
Zurich, being one of those cities where they hate to see people inconvenienced, noted the amount of harassment that their town trollops were experiencing and kindly came up with this idea...
Yes! It's called a sex-box. The idea being that it's a safe environment for ladies of the night to take their 'dates' to, with a convenient alarm on the passenger side should things go awry. The prostitute can bail and hit the alarm, and before you can say "locked in your car", the rozzers are down on the offending john like a ton of the proverbials.
Truth is, this was our idea.
Yes, we did all the research and feasibility studies, fronted the money and were in Zurich last week to see them unveiled. So there you are. Of course, we were there to see all that other stuff we talked about - watches, chocolate, cheese, hot stewardesses - but this was the main purpose of our trip. You're welcome, world.
Now we are back and fully refreshed. And not a moment too soon, it seems - for we have another foul fiend to attend to - this young lady needs correcting and soon.
We are so on the case. Clark and Michael will keep you updated on our progress.
Ciao!
P.S. Oh, and Switzerland? Love that flag - it's a big plus.
