Hey, Blog Guy, I need your help. I am a professional assassin who happens to be a woman, and while I would love to look good on the job, nobody seems to be going after this market. Oh sure, there’s plenty for the MALE assassins to wear, but nothing for us gals. I’m about mad enough to kill somebody! Any advice?

Nikita

Hold on, things seem to be looking up for lady killers. At a big fashion show in Madrid this week we found a number of very stylish outfits clearly aimed at hitwomen, cat burglars, lethal seductresses, and just plain terrifying Internet blind dates.

Meanwhile, I guess anybody who thinks this new fashion season marks a return to frilly femininity can probably think again.

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A model displays an outfit by Spanish designer Andres Sarda during the Spring/Summer 2008 Pasarela Cibeles fashion show in Madrid September 20, 2007. REUTERS/Andrea Comas

Earlier this week we told you about a dude in Venezuela who awoke to find an autopsy was being performed on him. We were curious about how something like this happens, so we had it checked out, and you’ll be happy to hear there is a perfectly reasonable explanation.

See, when he arrived at the hospital, somebody filled out the wrong form.

That’s right. Instead of the Heal This Guy form, they filled out the Hack This Guy Open and Yank His Organs Out form. In fairness, we were told the two forms do look a lot alike. Rich Edson reports:

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Step right up, ladies and gentlemen, for Chad’s Cavalcade of Clips!

Today, in the process of presenting his bizarre video footage from around the world, our Chad Ruble sings like a beauty pageant emcee, talks like assorted dog breeds, and asks the question you never thought you’d hear: “Who’s Bogarting the Milk-Bones?”

It’s just hard to believe this is all free. Here’s Chad:

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It is simply stunning how rapidly Platterball has become one of the world’s most popular sports. People everywhere are embracing the game, as you can see from this supermodel exhibition match in London, complete with the pro faceguards and regulation hatter platters.

And why not? Everybody wants the thrill of being a platter batter, lobbing that 10-pound bowling ball perfectly, so it lands on a platter and doesnt roll off, thus earning you 3 3/4 points, or 2 2/3 points if youre playing in Belgium.

With 16 platters and eight bowling balls in play at once, the action never stops. Very impressively, these plucky models opted to follow the professional rules, playing with their hands tied behind their backs and splotches of lard on the flat surfaces, making it even harder to score. But hey, those 0-0 games just add to the excitement!

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A model displays a creation by Basso and Brooke during their Spring/Summer 2008 show during London Fashion Week September 17, 2007. REUTERS/Stephen Hird

The captions for this photo - and other similar ones - tell us these folks are bathing in mud in a Turkish resort town, and that the mud baths are believed to help with stress.

Right. First of all, my dictionary defines bathing as ”immersion in liquid for cleansing,” which makes “bathing in mud” kind of an oxymoron right off the bat.

But that’s not the main thing. I just can’t accept that wallowing in ooze and sludge until I look like some victim who didn’t quite make it out of Pompeii is gonna lower my stress level.  I’d be thinking, like, Is this crud going to wash off? What if they run out of warm water? Did I remember to hide my wallet? Don’t catfish and gators live in mud? Do I feel something on my leg? I’ll show you stress! Look at this slideshow and make up your own mind…

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A man bathes in mud in the western Turkish resort town of Dalyan September 17, 2007.  Every year around 25,000 tourists, mostly from Britain and the Netherlands, visit the Dalyan mud baths which are believed to help heal rheumatism, blood circulation and stress.  REUTERS/Umit Bekta

Once again the fashion industry takes a turn for the practical, offering up this outfit perfectly suited for a wide range of occasions, whether you’re representing deadbeats in tax court, walking your ferret, flying in your gyrocopter, or just enjoying an evening of miniature golf.

My only problem is, in spite of being a longtime observer of the haute couture scene, sometimes they hit me with confusing new articles of clothing, like that uni-sleeve deal a few weeks ago.

I’m not quite sure what to call that piece of jewelry hanging from this model’s waist. It’s like, you know, a necklace that slid down, or like a really heavy belt, and frankly I’m not completely sure she is even wearing it in the right place. So if you happen to own one, can you please check the box it came in and see what they call it?

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A model displays a creation by Spanish designer Francisco Montesinos during the Spring/Summer 2007-08 Pasarela Cibeles fashion show in Madrid September 17, 2007 REUTERS/Susana Vera

These are creepy, creepy times. Yesterday I scared the bejesus out of readers with tales of people being buried alive, and waking up during an autopsy, and I thought nothing could be more frightening until I thought about having to go out for drinks with this honey. Suddenly, that old expression “as scary as a Spanish fashion model” makes perfect sense.

It’s all here. The Vulcan eyebrows, the Marge Simpson hair, the lipstick applied randomly, highlighted by the kebab skewers through the head. All of these elements work together to make you think of a single pop culture phrase: “The call came from inside the house!”

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A model displays an outfit by Elio Berhanyer during the Spring/Summer 2007-08 Pasarela Cibeles fashion show in Madrid September 18, 2007. REUTERS/Susana Vera

Boy, the holidays seem to roll around so quickly. Tomorrow is already “Talk Like a Pirate Day” again.

I know what you’re thinking, “Bob, I’ll feel like a real imbecile adding aaarrrrrggg to every sentence!” Well, there’s a lot more to it than that, matey. There is actually a Website that translates regular stuff into pirate talk. Suppose you want to say, “Those wolverines chewed up my licorice tuba.” According to the translator, that becomes, “Aye, those wol’erines chewed up my licorice tuba Gar, Where can I find a bottle o’rum?”

Now, say you want to go that extra step and celebrate “Talk Like a Pirate Speaking Pig Latin Day.” Then you’ll want to run that sentence through the automated online Pig Latin translator, which will give you, “Ayeway, osethay ol’erinesway ewedchay upway ymay icoricelay ubatay arGay.”

And then, if you want to set up a Facebook group called “People Who Talk Like Pig Latin Pirates,” well, it’s just possible you will get absolutely no work done whatsoever. So now, it’s suddenly sounding pretty nice, huh? Paul Majendie reports:

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Model and actress Rebecca Romijn playfully poses with pirate characters as she arrives as a guest for the premiere of the new film “Pirates of the Caribbean The Curse of The Black Pearl” in Anaheim, California at Disneyland in a 2003 file photo. REUTERS/Fred Prouser

If you’re prone to nightmares, maybe you should just skip this item. I’m warning you right now.

The idea of being declared dead before your time isn’t new. Live burial was a big fear in the 19th century, exploited by Edgar Allan Poe in The Premature Burial. As you can see from this old illustration, there were even devices crafted into some coffins, in case you awoke six feet under. I’d like to meet the dude with the presence of mind to say, “Gosh, I seem to have been buried alive! I wonder if my cheap relatives sprung for one of those handy safety devices!”

Anyway, it turns out this Venezuelan guy may have gone through something just about as bad. According to media accounts, he was declared dead after an accident, taken to the morgue, and woke up in pain to find medical examiners performing an autopsy on him.

For their part, the examiners were good sports about it, and immediately began stitching up the incision they had made on his face, while presumably scrambling through the Yellow Pages looking for plastic surgeons. Here is the story:

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It’s time once again for our popular regular feature called Things Maybe We Should Have Mentioned in a Photo Caption, but Didnt.

This time around, the photo caption tells us that these guys are Bolivian indigenous people, here to support the rewriting of the constitution, and blah blah blah… But is there maybe something else going on here that photo clients and readers might want to know about? Some little thing? Their hats? Maybe. The colorful things around their necks? Perhaps.

Or maybe the fact that the group rewriting the freaking constitution seems to include GODZILLA? Hello?

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Bolivian indigenous people take a break as they attend an Indigenous meeting in Sucre September 10, 2007. Thousands of supporters of leftist President Evo Morales, including indigenous peoples, and coca growers gathered at stadium in the southern city of Sucre to express support for the assembly rewriting the country’s constitution. REUTERS/David Mercado