Wednesday, August 31, 2016

Beware the Bewhiskered

This guy...

is known as Reg "Hairy" McLairy or The Tashmeister. He is seriously into his moustache. He preens and primps it three hours a day. He's a little odd. He's responsible for the spread of moustachism worldwide, which led to the fad that became a thing of women wearing fake 'staches.

As you can probably tell from the pic, he's also into barbershop quartet singing. Those close-harmony renditions of old crap songs like "Sweet Adeline" or "Goodnight Sweetheart" that are only tolerated because they are technically skilful despite being not at all entertaining. Wearing a striped blazer, silly hat and white pants a la Dick Van Dyke during the penguin sequence in Mary Poppins with a bunch of other similarly attired men and boring people to tears with songs like "Coney Island Washboard" or "Nobody Knows What A Redheaded Mama Can Do" McLairy and his fellow criminals, The Bewhiskered Gentlefellows, travel the length and breadth of the country, showing off their facial hair felonies and spreading their message. Not quite sure what the message actually is, but we'll get to that later.

The other three members of The Bewhiskered Gentlefellows are pictured below.

Terrance McTavish, baritone and cravat.

Paddy O'Dawes, tenor and bowtie.

Snoots McGee-Cheeseworth, alto and stetson. 

If you see these guys and survive, please let us know. We need to put a stop to their nefarious noodlings and ne'er-do-well deeds. Rest assured we'll give your call top priority.

More info on Friday! 

Monday, August 29, 2016

Hirsute hysteria!

An intense and widely shared enthusiasm for something, especially one that is short-lived and without basis in the object's qualities; a craze.
"prairie restoration is the latest gardening fad in the Midwest"

If something outlives being a fad, it becomes a thing.

An item or activity that used to be a fad.
"so I guess that's a thing now"

Something that used to be a fad but is now apparently a thing, because it's been happening for years now, is girls posing for photos with fake mustaches.

Now, we don't have anything against mustaches...

And I'm ppppprrrreeeetttyyyy sure we're on record as loving the ladies...
Hello once again, ladies!
But we are not fans of this thing that used to be a fad.
Why? Well, certainly not because of any hang-ups regarding gender identity issues,
We're soooo far beyond that!!
It might be because at least one of us (me) has an admittedly irrational fear of a possible velcro situation that might occur while kissing a 'stached lady. I don't know. What I do know is that this, as is usually the case, is the fault of a nefarious super villain. Specifically, this guy...
Who is he? What does he want? What's his name???
More to be revealed later!

Friday, August 26, 2016

The Jobs We Don't Do

As was said on Monday, we get letters all the time asking us all manner of questions and requesting all kinds of assistance. Seems people are now so lazy that they turn to us for the slightest trivial issue.Never mind calling 911, we get asked to fill in for plumbers, electricians, vets, sous chefs, prima ballerinas... it's crazy. And even though we could do those things (take it from me, once you get some tights on Clark, you would not believe the pirouettes and grand jet├ęs we see from him), it's not what we are about. Not our primary function.

Some of the oddest requests I can recall being asked to do? 

There was the time Simon Pyman from Tewkesbury in Gloucestershire wrote us his tale of woe concerning flooring. Seems he was concerned that the laminate wasn't fitted correctly.

No kidding.

All we could say was "Call a professional. This isn't our area. Sorry."

For some reason flooring comes up a lot. For example, Roger De Loger of Stet, MO thought we could help him with his carpeting issues.

Seriously, do these people not own a Yellow Pages?

It wasn't just Roger. Gryant Bumbel of Mossy, WV also sent pics of his shoddy carpet.

I mean, come on!

There was also a slew of people needing help with their broken ovens. I'm serious. Take a look at this selection.

What the heck happened here, Davina McBatty of Sainte-Agathe-des-Monts, Quebec?

Loreena Quigley of Goole, Yorkshire, I think a broken oven is the least of your worries.
Just to set the record straight, we are not repairmen, carpet fitters or flooring specialists. So quit bugging us, people.

Hopefully next week will be better.

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

The weather, and other things we shouldn't talk about

Do yourself and everyone else a favor and issue yourself a preemptive SHUT UP any time one of these topics pops up. For three reasons:
1) Like Michael said, we can't do anything about them so what's the point?
2) Shut up.
3) OMG, SHUT UP!!!


"It's hot outside!"
Yes. It's summer time. This is not a particularly illuminating observation. It is hot outside. You're not making it cooler nor are you educating anyone. Nobody who has been outside has said, "there's something about the environment in which I am currently an inhabitant but I just can't figure out what it is." Hey, it's hot outside. "You know what, that is exactly what it is! Hot! Thank you!"


"It's cold outside!"
See above and change some of the words around, you dummy.


"Your candidate is awful"
"My candidate is also kinda awful, if I'm being honest"
"All the candidates are awful"
"Everything is awful"
Yeah. And?


We know, it's awesome, the best place ever, just amazing. Unless it's terrible, the worst place ever, just horrible. The service is outstanding. Unless it sucks. The food is just incredible. Unless it sucks. One of two ridiculous subjective extremes. You feel like it's your obligation to get the word out, either way. That's fine. But here's what you need to do: publish a review on Yelp where we can conveniently ignore you and people like you in one place.


Chances are if I didn't make a point of sitting down and watching the guy run around and kick the thing and hit the other guy, it's because I didn't want to. And even if that's not the case, if I missed it for some reason, there are only about a million different ways I can get caught up without hearing you talk about it.


If you're a fantasy sports enthusiast, you already know that people who aren't have no interest in the subject, as well as people who are. You already know from previous failed attempts to engage people that exactly zero people care that you missed the playoffs in one of your leagues because your kicker missed a 27-yard field goal after making kicks of 33, 48 and 53 previously in the same game. What you also need to know is that the name of your team is nowhere near as clever as you think it is. Setting up a web page and issuing "hilarious" fake press releases and memes with your made-up logo poorly Photoshopped on to Jake Cutler's helmet is nothing more than a waste of bandwidth, even today when that isn't even a thing people worry about anymore.
Not even remotely funny, on any level whatsoever.

Monday, August 22, 2016

Sorry, Folks ... We Don't Cause International Incidents

Poutine: Fries with squeeky cheese and gravy

Yes, The Unbelievables are fabulous, well-mannered, snappy dressers and popular with the ladies. (Hello, Ladies!)

But we've said it before: There's only so much we can do.

All requests that come through our mailbag or answering service receive our individual attention, but you have to understand there are certain things that have been set in place which are pretty immovable - they can't be messed with. Often, that's where our many foes choose to venture and when we have to step in. (See previous posts for the many and varied examples.)

Case in point: I don't know why but we receive letters several times a month asking if there's anything we can do about the beginning of the week, Mondays. Why anyone in there right mind would think we would want to tackle such a staple of everyday life, something that pops up week in and week out 52 times a year, is beyond me. And why it's so vilified in the first place is beyond my personal comprehension. I've mentioned it before and I'll mention it here again: There's nothing I, or The Unbelievables, can do about Mondays. Accept them for what they are, however they manifest themselves. Personally, I love Mondays and don't understand all the hate ... which, in my opinion, I hypothesize might be from others' sad and sorry states of attitude.

Or cats. Look: There are dog lovers and cat lovers out there. It's usually the dog lovers who contact us and ask what can be done once and for all about cats. The answer is simple - not a damned thing. We don't mess with evolution (Hello! Evolution is beyond our control!) or the proclivities (wrong though they may be) of feline affection. Again ... deal with it. They're a fact of the matter and they're not going away any time soon.

Where's all this leading? Directly to today's topic, something that reared its head as a result of a small leak in my personal undercover operations ...

"Hey, Michael:

I understand you're soon to be 'on assignment' in The Great White North. While there, see if you can do anything about that odd Canadian favorite poutine. Why anyone would want to eat something so bland is beyond me.

Work it and get back to me when you can. Soon

- Charles"

Well Chuck, first off I'm not about to begin the week pissing off our neighboring country to the north by dissing one of their national culinary treasures. As far as I'm concerned, poutine never hurt anyone.

The dish - french fries topped with cheese curds (sometimes known as "squeeky cheese") and mild tasting gravy - is a personal preference of Canadians. You have every right to indulge in the concoction or otherwise without fear of reprisal or consequence. Personally, I get a hankering for fries and gravy, but gravy of the thicker, more flavorful variety ... and sans cheese curds. Cheese curds, in and of themselves, are often bland as a rule. Why Canadians love them so much is their business, not mine.

This place digs lacrosse, all things maple and cheese curds.

Sure, poutine has migrated its way into the United States, particularly Washington, the Dakotas, Minnesota, Wisconsin. But we don't boycott those folks just because their eating proclivities drift over to the blah, uninspiring end of things.

And The Unbelievables aren't willing to get on Canada's bad side over their food preferences.

That's something our foes (i.e. Little Debbie) might delve into ... not us.

Evil, personified.

Clark and Jeff might have other personal takes on Mondays or cats or poutine and other things too ridiculous to look into as a butt-kicking entity.

Stay tuned ...

Friday, August 19, 2016

Breakfast Interruptus

Our esteemed colleague Michael is currently on top secret assignment (all we can say is, you're welcome, would-be volcano victims in Hawaii) and unable to contribute to this discussion of memorable breakfasts. He will do so upon his return. In the meantime, help yourself to a healthy, nourishing breakfast, sit back and relax. We'll be back on Monday with adventures or something.

Wednesday, August 17, 2016

Starting the day in an Unbelievable way

We all know breakfast is the most important meal of the day, but did you ever stop to realize it's the sexiest meal of the day?
Think about it.
There's nothing sexy about lunch, which consists of heating up a Lean Cuisine in a dirty office microwave or going out for a sandwich.
What's sexy about dinner, a big heavy meal that makes you sleepy?
No, it's breakfast, the meal you eat after getting out of bed. Just look at the sexy names of the food items you eat at breakfast:

  • Omelette
  • Quiche
  • Croissant
  • Sausage
Not to mention hot Coffy
Best breakfast I ever had? Well, this one was pretty good...
Four years ago or so, somewhere in Chicago. I think we had eggs and stuff or something.

2009 or 2010 in Canada? This one was delicious too. Waffles, maybe. Or pancakes.

Oh yes, I remember this one in detail! It was in the spring of either 2011 or 2008 or 2006 when I was in Texas or Detroit. We had French Toast. Pretty sure.

New Years Day, 2001. Or Easter morning, 2004. Europe? I don't remember. This was a pretty great breakfast, in spite of a pretty awful menu. I got a stomachache. 

Eggs again? Maybe? I don't know. I'm going to go with eggs. In the winter. Or summer. Maybe spring. Possibly autumn. Somewhere in North America. Probably.

The absolute best breakfast I've ever had though? That's easy!
No contest
February 4th, 2015, 8:34 AM at the Waffle House in Walterboro, South Carolina. I had two eggs over medium, with the edges just slightly crispy, two sausage patties (NOT LINKS!), wheat toast, hash browns in the classic scattered, smothered and covered style, with a large orange juice to drink. I paid with cash, a crumpled $20 bill printed in Ft. Worth, Texas and issued into circulation in 2007 upon which someone had doodled glasses and a mustache on Andrew Jackson's face. I left a 30% tip.