Downtiming It

*yawn*


Yep, that downtime.

Time to relax. Re-energize. Embrace the slack. Cool down. Tune out. With nary a care in the world. 

Because ... sometimes? You just need to unplug from the world and let it do its own thing without you. It will still be there when you get back.

Me? It just so happens I did some of that last week, in a manner of speaking. I took a much needed vacation. On my return, little did I know I would come back to a week's worth of downtime. Talk about the planets aligning ... !!!

I was so relaxed in fact while "downtiming" I didn't make time to post yesterday when I should have. That's how comfortable I am currently! (Yes, you may envy me.)

At any rate, you may wonder: How do I do at doing nothing? Not like Clark and his zen time, I'll tell you that. His languid ideas are too much work for me; all those jigsaw puzzles and stamp collecting. Nope, not my bag.

This is what I do ...

I'll relax in the pool with an ice cold brewski ...

Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh ...

When that one has been quaffed leisurely-like, I'll call out to one of the Unbelieva-Babes for another ...

It's a rough life. I'm just here to tackle it ...

Later, a third one will most likely be in order ...

*sip*

I might get motivated from all the relaxing to ask a question or two ...

I'll probably wake up from snoozing in the pool to find yet another refreshing cold one has been placed in my hand ...

You may be wondering wear the lime slice is.

Those thoughtful Unbelieva-Babes take care of that prior to handing a beer over ...

*yawn*

Downtiming: It's hard sometimes.

Right about now you're wondering what Jeff's ideas on downtime consist of. You won't have long to wait ...

*yawn ... sip*

The Dangerous Dancers Of Maurice: The Plan

 

With regard to Monday's all-points bulletin about Maurice Dancer and his nefarious flowery-frocked gang of musical mayhemers*: No sooner did the word get put out there then the calls came ring-a-ting-tinging into the Unbelieva-Base. 

I was munching on a sandwich, coming 'round the corner into one of our offices where Clark and Jeff were deep in conversation. I heard the phone clack into its cradle ...

"Well, that makes about half a dozen alerts already from the good public, all of them noting Dancer's shenanigans have become a bigger problem than originally thought. Once folks get a pint or two in them they're basically putty to his suggestions. People are throwing their hard-earned cash left and right into his minions charity boxes. They go home, come out of their stupors and realize they don't have enough cash to go grocery shopping. Something has to be done ..."

My ears automatically pricked up.

"'Pints' ... as in beer?" I asked. "Boom, I'm there! Sign me up! I'll go undercover and infiltrate Maurice's gang - concentrating on his right hand woman Mrs. Big - and quash the lot of them chop chop!" I offered.

Jeff stated the obvious: "Well, we know you like beer."

"Duh" I responded.

"You'd have to go deep undercover. You'd have to use one of our most clandestine alter-egos," Clark noted. 

"Hold that thought," I told Clark. I left and came back in 5 minutes with one of my disguises:

Can I cook or can't I?

"That flowery headdress mumbo-jumbo is a cinch to pull off," I told them.

Clark looked at Jeff. "He's good, I'll give him that." Jeff nodded in agreement.

"Your passport is up to date, right?" Jeff asked.

I looked at him sideways. He knew my passport was current.

"Plus ... you'd have to wear pants," Clark pointed out.

"I can suck it up and take one for the team as circumstances dictate," I replied.

Jeff had a few last considerations. "Are you sure you're going to be able to sidle up to Mrs. Big? She doesn't wear make-up, she's got zero fashion fashion sense making her unattractive ... and have you seen the lower lip on that woman?"

Jeff had a point. That's one ugly woman ...

"It's going to be rough ... but that's where the beer will come in handy," I countered. 

"It's settled, then," Clark concluded. "Michael will edge into Maurice's little party and crack'em like an egg. You'll call us when you have something."

"Righty-O," I verified. "It might take me a bit to win their confidences but I'll work out any kinks. Trust me."

Jeff and Clark saw me off at the airport the next day ...

... and that's the last they heard of me for 2 weeks.

"You know ... we haven't heard hide nor hair of Michael for 2 whole weeks," Clark mentioned to Jeff.

"No worries ... we just got a post from him. Let me open it ..."

As Jeff scanned through the photos sent to the guys, he exchanged a worried look with Clark:

I was deep undercover in this candid photo,

working my way seemlessly into the case as shown ...

Yes ... there were "perks" with the case. Obviously.

This might have been me. Or it might not have been.

Hard to tell if it's actually me in disguise ...

Maurice Dancer's throngs are many and varied ...

Jeff stated the obvious: "We might have a problem ..."

*Note: Because of the sensitive nature of this particular case, the events herein actually happened several months ago. Offered in real time, this case may have gone sideways, compromising not only the integrity of the mission but the clandestine nature with which we worked it.

St. Pat's - Like Christmas (with more booze and slightly less crying)

"Hello yerselves, ye Unbelievalads!"

The guys are right; St. Paddy's Day is often the inspiration for our most raging ragers. This year is no exception. We can't share ALL the raucous details with you but we did catch some highlights on video and after some heavy editing (for the sake of those with delicate sensibilities), we can share them with you

(NOTE: You are reading this entry in real time because this all happened last night; as is the case with almost everything we do, we start early and go late. Hello ladies!).

Please click below to enjoy some of the Unbelievably unhinged debauchery from this year's celebration of everything green, Irish and green, starring me, Jeff and Michael and featuring Kip the Mail Boy and Ulf the Unbelievadog!



(NOTE to criminals, mastermind class or otherwise: Please don't do anything illegal until Monday. Thanks.)

St. Pat's - Like Christmas Without The Annoying Family Members

I apologise profusely for the lateness of this post. In my defence (and I think it's a good one), I was limbering up with the guys in preparation for that oh-so-special day on the Unbelieva-Calendar. Yes folks, this year St. Patrick's Day falls on a Friday. So what, you say? Well, if it falls on a Sunday, Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday, it's just one night of debauchery and drinking heavily. But on a Thursday, Friday or Saturday, it means an entire weekend of debauchery and drinking heavily! So in order for us to get into shape for the upcoming pseudo-Irish shenanigans, we spent Saturday night and all of Sunday getting debauched and (regretfully) whammoed.

Yes, in terms of partying, St. Pat's in the UnbelievaBase is second only to Christmas in terms of consuming mass quantities of alcohol.

I'll let the guys tell you some of our secrets to making sure your St. Paddy's Day weekend is as wild and outrageous as you want it to be, and still allow you to arrive at work bright-eyed and bushy-tailed on Monday morning.

Not quite what I meant.

That's better.

St. Pat's is of course well known in the good ole U. S. of A. as the one day of the year when consumption of all things green goes through the roof. By which I don't mean cabbage and green beans, etc., but green alcoholic beverages. Beer gets colored green, sales of Midori skyrocket and Apple Martinis flow like the wide, wide Missouri. So here's my contribution to our mini-guide to St. Patrick's, a fabulous Melon Whiskey Sour.

1 part Jim Beam Jacob's Ghost White Whiskey
2 parts Melon Midori
2 parts sweet and sour mix
(optional) 1 part ginger ale- this will make it a little less strong
about 6 frozen honeydew melon balls (made with a melon baller)

Put the melon balls in the freezer for about an hour. 

Shake with ice.


Before pouring, I put one big square ice cube at the bottom of each glass, followed by 3 frozen melon balls, then pour cocktail and enjoy. 

Something Pizza And Beer This Way Comes

When last we left, Jeff had been warned by Kip from the other room: "Uh, red alert, guys! We have a visitor ..."

Clark came bounding down the hall from the direction of the Villains Room, a tad flushed and sweaty. "Pizza's here!"

I traded glances with Jeff. I was on my way for my telephone shift but it looked like I wasn't going to get to it. No big deal as it turned out because the more we hurried up and waited for that Zigfried guy to show up the more pointless his rambling, barely threatening telephone calls seemed to be.

"Screw it. Let's eat," I relented. "Zigmond (or whoever) will show when he shows ... if ever he does."

Following Clark's lead into the formal dining area, Kip had already taken in the delivery and laid out the spread. Clark really outdid himself this time around, too. There wasn't just pizza: There was pizza and all the side fixings as well - several pie varieties, chicken wings and onion rings with their accompanying dipping sauces and more. Now, as a general rule, I'm not really partial to pizza. But it's an underlying craving every once in a while, sort of like when you're hankering for a McDonald's Big Mac deep down inside, despite the fact you know there are much better burgers out there in the world. This is exactly how I feel about pizza. I get cravings for it here and there. Today? While I wasn't at all thinking about pizza the thought of it - accompanied by the nice selection before us - was thoroughly working its magic on me.

Of course there was a nice collection of iced cold malt beverages with which to wash down the pies. Jeff grabbed a trio, popped their tops and hand us one each. (A few Unbelieva-Babes even joined us.)

"A toast! To Zigfield ... or Zagfled ... or whatever his name is. May he come out of that tunnel (wherever it may be) and finally meet up with us (whenever that occasion might arise) so we can put a face with a name (whatever name he's going by at the time.) Until then ... SKOAL! Bon appetit!"

The meal was fine, the conversation and camaraderie equal to the meal and we never heard from Zapftig (or whoever he is) the remainder of the day.

For all we know he may still be trying to negotiate that tunnel ...

The question remained: How could someone so deft at infiltrating and causing such a ruckus* at The Academy Awards be so giving with threats to us while not seeing those threats through?

We might never know who true identity of The Zigster ... or whatever his name is. 

*As it turned out there was a logical, though sorry, explanation to the Oscar's final award flub as detailed by the news which resulted in the firing of a couple PricewaterhouseCoopers employees for their untimely screw-up with the winning envelope for Best Picture, which pretty much negated anything we'd learned of Zugmott (we think) and any of his claims.

Unbelieva-chillax-a-haiku

Clark told you all on Monday about his way of relaxing - meditation and haiku. Fair enough. I like poetry. But I find the best way to take my mind off the stresses and strains of being part of an amazing triumvirate - that is, being an Unbelievable -

is to combine the meditating and the haiku-writing with some other relaxing pursuits, or even to write about the relaxing pursuits while doing the relaxing pursuits (with me so far? Good.).

So, what do I find relaxing? So glad you asked. Below are some examples of my craft - poems written while engaged in one or more of the relaxing pursuits I mentioned before. (Confused? Don't be. It will all become self-explanatory.)

1 - BOOZE

To be Frank Gifford

So effortlessly stylish

Dry Sack On The Rocks

Charlie Brown's hero

Water, Barley malt, Rice, Hops, Yeast

Taste IS why you'll switch

2 - MASSAGE

Dude, I think you should

Climb on top of my shoulders

Wearing a towel.

Foxy lady on

A big leather couch, listen

While I knead your spine.

Ultrasonic thing

Invented by Japanese

Water massager.

The Vita Master

Lots of rollers go around

And rub my sore back.

3 - COCKTAILS

(Ok, I know that's still technically booze, but I got a load of these.)

Lemon juice, white rum

Passion fruit juice, add crushed ice

Sugar syrup. Drink.

How I miss those days

When your local liquor store

Carried Black & White.

4- LONG HOT BATHS

Oh, to drift away

In glowing pink hot water

A big wet disco.

5 - ANIMALS

More like animals

Is what we should strive to be

They know how to chill

6 - LADIES (HELLO, LADIES!!)

Pretty young woman

With two cases of Molson

Prithee, come hither

7 - ICE CREAM

I'd like to consume

Many bars of delicious

Korean ice cream.

8 - FUNKY FURNITURE

Michael's room is filled

With weird chairs and strange sofas

They're really comfy.

9 - WATER

Splashing around in

A giant fountain is fun

When I'm in London.

Hope you enjoyed my poetic efforts. Let's see how Michael fares on Friday.

SNAFUs, Foul-ups and Errors

We Unbelievables pride ourselves on being insanely good at crimefighting. It's true. We really are insanely good.
But by being insanely good crimefighters, we become susceptible to some common mistakes that make us actually less good at what we do. Trouble is, it's easy to commit them without noticing.

A great way to prevent yourself from making these mistakes is to become aware of them and to be able to recognize when you are doing them. But hey - that's easier said than done. It usually takes a good dose of Unbelieva-Zen meditation accompanied by a few Bahama Mamas from Red Lobster to do it. At least, that's what works for me.

Mm-mmmm.

The first of these common mistakes is…

Not Wearing The Right Gear

As crimefighters, it is easy to become focused on doing things faster and better so we sometimes forget the point of what we are doing. We use excellent time management tools to fill our schedules with activities and we use a system to get through our huge To Do lists we create for ourselves. Sorry, no, none of that's true. We are some of the most disorganised people we know. And that's saying something. However, we have a system, and 99% of the time, it works.

The problem that arises when you constantly focus on HOW to do things more efficiently (yeah, right) is that we can forget small yet important things, such as the right clothes for the job. Take this picture for an example.

This was the time we infiltrated a Latin American drug ring that were concealing the goods by stuffing them inside soccer balls that were being used by visiting minor league Colombian teams. We went undercover and donned traditional woollen ponchos. What we failed to remember is that soccer tends to be played 90% of the time in the rain, on a muddy pitch, and woollen garments tend to become waterlogged and weigh 400 pounds each. It was a rookie mistake, and no one Unbelievable was responsible for this error, except for Michael, whose idea it was in the first place. We still saved the day, but only after we had fought our way out from under the rain-sodden ponchos. Eesh.

The next mistake we've made is…

Multitasking


That cheesehead talking on the phone while typing an email on his BlackBerry all the while checking out the latest news on the TV has become the poster child for productivity. You might think to yourself, "Hey, that's cool, that's what I want to be able to do, I could get so much done!" Truth is, not only do most people not have enough stuff on their to-do lists to fill up even an hour of their day, but geez, that guy's a dork! Being able to multitask well seems to imply intelligence, but seriously, what's so great about it?
Research has shown that the human brain actually processes one thing at a time. If you are reading a magazine while chatting with your buddies and surfing the Internet, you are actually doing each of those activities one after another and not in parallel. In short, multitasking is a big fat lie.

Clark is one of those people that sometimes makes the mistake of trying to multitask, and somehow he always gets in trouble for it. For example...

Note: he was undercover as a neo-Nazi in this photo. Trying too hard.

The next mistake I shall focus on is...

Using Too Many Tools

OK, we admit it: we like bright, shiny objects.


When there is a new weapon, martial arts move, or shiny new gadget, we want to learn about it. The great thing is that they usually all have some intrinsic value. The problem is that there is a learning curve for each one and you spend a bulk of your time learning how it works as opposed to actually doing what you want to do. Take this new Swiss-Army tool as an example:

You wouldn't believe how long it took to learn what everything this handy-dandy item does. But when we finally got down to the nitty-gritty of every single gizmo and gadget on there and found that they neglected to put a USB stick on there... boy, did we feel foolish! Buyer beware!

Anyway, I'm sure that Michael will have more slip-ups and boobs for you next time. Till then...

Ciao!

Just Another Rock-n-Roll Bodyguard Story

As Clark made you all aware on Monday, there have been many times when we have undertaken bodyguard-type work. Michael refers to these times as "a little extra sum-sum'pn" but I prefer to think of them as "slow crime weeks". See, when there's not enough bad guys out there to vanquish, things can get a little thin over at the Unbelieva-base.

At least there's beer.

Now, because we were so well-known around Vegas and Tinseltown, not to mention the Great White Way, Tin Pan Alley and La-La-Land (and Disney World), we had been asked many times if we offered personal protective services, by which we mean this...

Not this.

So, in order to keep the wolf from the door, we decided to take on a few clients and keep the fridge fully stocked.

Just can't get good help these days.

One of our first clients was the actor Karl Malden, who felt the need to hire bodyguards when he embarked upon a recording career and felt certain he would be mobbed wherever he went.

Sadly for Mr. Malden, this was not only his only recording, but the only copy ever sold. Well, that's not specifically true - he actually gave us this copy, then 'borrowed' five bucks from Michael one day and 'forgot' to return it.

We also met a musical group of young'uns who were big fans of ours. Such big fans, in fact, that they did a pastiche of one of the more famous pictures of us, from one of our early cases where we employed the services of Schlomo McCaskill, the world's only Scottish-Jewish-American FBI agent. Here's the original...

And their version...

They called themselves Jiminy Christmas and The Fires of Molech, but we thought that was a bit wordy and just called them dorks. However, we offered them our services, and it worked out for a while. Because we needed to protect our identities, we went in disguise as another band, which helped us to blend in seamlessly.

Here we are as "The Spontaneous Cheese Polka Experience". Now that's a band name.

It all went belly-up with Jiminy after a while, when they failed to secure a record deal and went their separate ways. We only had one more musical client after that, and it was this character.

As you can see, his name is not worth remembering, but he thought he was something when Dick Dale, after one too many adult beverages, agreed to let him play at his club. Big mistake. This dude literally never wore clothes anywhere if he could avoid doing so. We got really fed up with escorting a nudist about. So when he took the stage, believe me, he needed protecting. However, by this point we'd had enough of his naked shenanigans and had left the building.

I'm sure he's OK and made it out alive.

Michael will let you know about some of our other bodyguard assignments on Friday. Till then... ciao!