Fight The (Cranky) Powers That Be

When I saw Clark begin this week's theme, an automatic sigh came rushing out of me and I could feel a "grump" forming low in my stomach.

No one wants to hear about The Unbelievables' personal quirks! Especially when they take downward turns and our moods become less than exuberant.

But then I thought: "Of course they do! Folks need to hear we're not always perfect!" (Well ... beside our perfect fashion sense, that is ...)

The world does indeed need to hear about stuff like this. Because we're human, too. Each of us get in a funk here and there. And if, by relating some of our solutions to defunking ourselves, our tales aid in any way to the betterment of John and Jane Q. Public out there then we're doing our responsible duty.

Because it's practically a crime to be sullen and surly. You've heard it takes more effort to be crabby than cheerful, haven't you? It's true. More muscles are involved when you're churlish, it takes unnecessary and wasted power to maintain that testiness and no one wants to be around you if you're going to snap their heads off. It's a whole lot easier to put on a happy face.

So ... when I saw where Clark was going I wasn't pleased in the least. But Jeff brought up the rear and saved the day in grand fashion! It was a swift rescue from disgruntledness when he stated the obvious, my first law.

And its "au natural" equal and opposite mood-changer: Pantslessness.

Zounds! The freedom! The joy! The abandonment of constraint! The free rein of full swing! (So to speak.)

To wit, I am unable to convey the pure exhilaration of going "pants-free" via mere words. They couldn't possibly do justice to the feeling. It's something you have to experience. The euphoria you feel ... the elation of it all automatically wipes your foul mood into nothing. Drop "trou" and you immediately forget the fact you were in a foul mood to begin with.

Here's the simple solution for you if you find yourself becoming irrational of if you are stuck right smack dab in the middle of "non compos mentis" ...

• 1) Stand in front of a mirror. (Any mirror will do but a full-length mirror will provide you with the full effect of enlightenment.) Make certain your legs are slightly apart.
• 2) Drop those pants to the ground. (Yes ... the underwear get relieved of their duty as well.)
• 3) Put your hands on your hips in a show of confidence.
• 4) Watch that lowdown mood instantly lift and that smile shine upon your face. << BOOM >>

Again: You're welcome, world.

(Side Note: If you decide to ramp things up and attempt some acrobatic trampoline moves sans pants and you've never done so previously, expect to become addicted to it. And with wild abandon.)

I Want To Ride My Bicycle

It's great that the guys told you all about our fantastic association with Queen, the most amazing rock band in the history of all things cool, and their influence on our style and vice versa. 

But I would be remiss if I did not relate to you the now-declassified tale of the single greatest day in our Unbelievable lives!

That's right. A day so amazing it would be scorched like a brand onto our collective brains.

It all started when in 1978 Freddie rushed excitedly into the Unbelievabase clutching an advance copy of their new album Jazz. (Remember, this was the 70s, when you could get away with giving your new LP a title that had nothing to do with the record contained therein, such as James Taylor's Greatest Hits or The Best Of Roger Whittaker.) 

"Listen to this!" shouted Fred, putting the record on the Blaupunkt and cranking it to 11.

We were mesmerized. Mesmerized enough to stop what we were up to (a game of Strip Parcheesi, as I recall) and listened to the instant classic that was Jazz.

Still, we could not help but notice the look of worry and concern on Freddie's face. We were curious. What on earth did he have to be anxious about? The album was brilliant, as has been already noted. So we asked him. 

"Why the long face? What's troubling you?"

"Well," he replied, "I'm having a creative block. The first single off of Jazz is gonna be a double-A side, "Bicycle Race" and "Fat Bottomed Girls" but I have absolutely no idea how to promote it. I mean, listen to those songs. Those songs ROCK OUT LOUD! They are guaranteed KILLERS! But the record-buying public is fickle. They'll buy anything the DJs tell them to. How else do you explain Clive Dunn's "Grandad" going to Number One?"

"Good point" quoth I.

"Trouble is, I need something so amazing, so shocking, so memorable that it'll be a shoo-in for sure... but what??"

"So you thought you'd pop in and pick our brains, eh?" interjected Clark, in a perplexing Canadian accent he was trying to perfect for some oddball reason (turns out he had had a brief fling with a Canadian air hostess, and was probably hoping to repeat the process).

Freddie was slightly embarrassed. "Um, er... yeah."

"Well, why didn't you say so!!" Michael and I cheered in unison. We were already two steps ahead. 

"Leave it to us, Freddie. We'll get this sorted in no time." I reassured him.

Clark leapt to his feet and fetched us all a beer. "BREWSKIES, EH!?!" he declared.

For once, we let it slide. 

So... a few phone calls to the Unbelievababes, to Marissa and Laura, several bike shops in London, a few top photographers and Wembley Stadium later, we had it all arranged.

I think you know where this is all going.

The Unbelievababes, with Laura and Marissa somewhere in there.

Marla and Trixie won top prize! (For what, I'm not sure).

We all got to spend the day in London watching the Unbelievababes ride around naked on bicycles!! Oh. My. God. We were in hog heaven - especially Michael, who spends most of his life getting naked anyway. It was so much fun, and such a success that they incorporated the shoot into the video.





Queen - Bicycle Race by Leo59

Not only that, but sometimes the Unbelievababes were drafted in to participate in live shows when the band were playing the song.

So there you have it. 

We've done a lot of fun stuff in our lives, but a day spent watching naked girls on bikes in the company of the greatest rock band in the world, as well as my two amazing crimefighting compadres, takes some licking. 

But that's another story...

The Annoyables

Michael is right, it does get worse sometimes. MUCH worse. I'll skip the degrees and get right to the bottom of the situation.
As noted here several times previously, Michael spends a lot, A LOT, of time naked. Generally, Jeff and I abide. It's not usually a big deal and we all have our own little quirks. But when Michael is naked and trying intentionally to get on our nerves, well, that's when enough is e-damn-nough...

"Michael, get your finger out of my face."
"What finger? Ha ha!"
"That finger, the one right there."
"Oh, this finger? The one that is close to touching your face?"
"Yes. Knock it off!"
"Why? I'm not touching you. It shouldn't be a bother."
"I mean it..."
"I am not touching you. I am not touching you. I am not touching you. I am not touching you."
"That's just it, though. You actually are."
"Huh? No, I'm n... Oops. Sorry about that."

Happens all the time. Usually when it's over, we all just go outside and contemplate the great mysteries in the sky. Or whatever it takes to not think about... that.