Top ten most evil villains of the 80s.

10. Gargamel
This guy was a smurfin' smurf-hole! If you were blue and a few inches tall, no one was quite as dastardly as amateur sorcerer and cat enthusiast, Gargamel. I'm not really sure why every potion that Gargamel tried to concoct had "minced Smurf" as its key ingredient...but it did...so it was "batten down the toadstools" week after week for the gentle Smurfs. Poor oral hygiene and a hoarse tabby for a companion made Gargamel all the harder to stomach. Secretly, we all know that Gargamel had a little "thing" going for Smurfette, but just didn't quite know how to impress her. Making a Brainy and Hefty stew was all he could come up with to get the attention of his miniature crush. Gargamel may have been cartoon, but led us all to develop a broad distrust of all middle-aged, robed, bald hermits that lived with cats and practiced quasi-witchcraft (which prior to the Smurfs' run, we were pretty OK with)

Evil rating-5

9. Ma Fratelli
Ma Fratelli, eloquently described by Andy Carmichael as a "gross old witch" was the matriarch of the nefarious Fratelli gang. Not only adept at robbing banks and plugging feds, she also had a knack for trying to kill kids. If these actions aren't painting the most rosey picture of Ma Fratelli...I should also add that she kept a third son, Sloth, a hideous freak who smelled, I'm told, "like Phys-ed", chained to a wall in a dank basement. Mother of the year material, right? Well, what if I told you that Ma's own neglect and buttery fingers made Sloth into the "man" that he is? Thankfully, Ma was brought to justice in the end, along with two of her sons. Apparently, years later she was thrown from a train. Ma Fratelli was a bad egg, no doubt — but ultimately, never much more than a murderous puppetmaster who had her two non-freak (and much more agile) sons carry out her every whim. Couldn't you have at least offed Corey Feldman?

Evil rating-5.5

8. The Noid
They say that you can mess with somebody...harass them...threaten their family; even poison their dog — but you DO NOT mess with a man's pizza. The Noid took this conventional wisdom and spat in its face. The Noid would mess with your pizza. Then he would laugh. A destructive and dangerous prankster, the Noid would stop at nothing to make sure that your pizza experience was a disastrous one. More unsettling than this is the fact that the Noid is still at large. His last public sighting was a Budbowl V, but many experts maintain that he is hiding out somewhere in Afghanistan, plotting a string of pizza chain bombings. Don't think a pogo-sticking, bunny-suit-wearing imp is a real threat? Trust me, you'd do well to avoid the Noid... at any cost.

Evil rating-6

7. John Kreese
As a Vietnam-vet and owner of a small karate dojo...you'd think that John Kreese would really be a solid guy. Not so. John Kreese ran his "Kobra Kai" dojo like Darth Vader ran the Deathstar. This guy was ruthless. Teaching his underlings to win at any cost — Kreese's "classes" were ripe with taunting, choking, punching and deadly leg-sweepings. If you didn't play by Kreese's rules or failed to win a bout? Sensei would lovingly choke you out in the parking lot, like the loser you were. Karate Kid III showed us just how dastardly Kreese could be, as he employed his equally sinister Vietnam pal, Terry Silver (a toxic waste "disposal" kingpin, if you were wondering) for a needlessly-complex plot to buddy up to Daniel Larusso and then humiliate him by having his legs swept time and again in front of half of Reseda, California. Larusso's crime? Having beaten Kreese's star pupil years earlier in the All-Valley Karate tourney. No longer heading up the dojo — Kreese's power has become limited...but if you think that he's changed his stripes and is giving his enemies mercy. Think again.

Evil rating-6.5

6. The Libyans
If you were in a mall parking lot at 2 A.M. in 1985...there was really nothing you'd rather see less than a Vanagon loaded with angry Libyans. These guys were known to carry rocket launchers and showed absolutely no regard for human life or small photo huts. The only thing that rivaled the storied bloodthirsty nature of the Libyans was their thirst for plutonium rods. Clearly these guys weren't after plutonium for its time-traveling properties — but rather, to enslave all of western civilization. Complete with 5 o'clock shadows and menacing scowls, the Libyans were simply not a group to screw with. Great Scott!

Evil rating-7

5. Jareth, the Goblin King
Powered by voodoo and dark, dark dance magic — Jareth ruled his goblin kingdom with an iron fist. By "iron fist", of course, I mean: "prancing around and singing with puppets". Jareth kidnapped babies and committed vocal atrocities...all the while sporting a Tina Turner hairdo and wearing a codpiece. Jareth's cruelest invention, the bog of eternal stench, cursed those who ventured in with a lifetime of ungodly B.O. Being both evil and creepy vaults Jareth into the 5 spot on this list. If his babynapping and serenading of 15 year-old girls is any clue as to what was really going in the goblin kingdom — let's just say that Jareth probably had to "register" whenever he changed his address and darken his porchlights on Halloween.

Evil rating-7.3

4. Skeletor
The original Goth. Skeletor was last seen vying for the title of "Master of the Universe"...but was never truly master of his domain. Skeletor ruled over dark legions of aptly named Beast-men and Mer-men, but really never needed them as he possessed serious sorcery skillz and could basically check in on He-man's every move like he was watching Big Brother. Where He-man rode a cowardly green tiger who on occasion morphed into Battlecat, Skeletor's feline ride was purple, plush, and 100% bad-to-the-bone...all the time. Skeletor, of course sported the ultimate evil accesories, however — a skeleton face and a high-pitched cackle. The only thing scarier than Skeletor was the big-screen adaptation of He-Man, starring Dolph Lundgren...but more on him in a second.

Evil rating-7.5

3. Russia
In the 80s, Russia was like Rosie O'Donnell is today: a large, shady entity that seemed to encroach further into our consciousness each day whilst draining our resources, espousing questionable values and financing flamboyant Broadway musicals. Shall I go on?! Are you not entertained?! The Russians were simply everywhere in the 80s, and they were menacing. Not only did they try to get the best of Sylvester Stallone in Rambo 3 and Rocky 4, they threatened our best and brightest high-schoolers with dawns that were an unnatural shade of red, our best and brightest "top guns" with intolerable Kenny Loggins' soundtracks and provided "b" material to zany prop comics and Robin Williams. Worst of all? They made the Ronnie Reagan very upset. After offering the U.S. a Yakov Smirnoff sacrifice, the cold war eventually cooled off...but the country everyone loved to hate seems to be trying to claw back into their coveted position again. We're all pulling for you, Russia!

Evil rating-8.0

2. Ed Rooney
Nothing is worse than trying to spoil a kid's day off (well, if you are the actor who played Ed Rooney in FBDO, there might be one or two things worse) but I digress. Ed Rooney was every teen's worst nightmare: a principal who lived to make your high school years absolutely miserable. Throw in a creepy mustache and that annoying red-headed lady from Small Wonder and you have a veritable cornucopia of horror for young adults. You thought Cameron's dad was hard-nosed? Rooney takes on police, attack dogs and car crashes to land Ferris in detention. Finally defeated by the authorities and Jennifer Grey's nose...Rooney slunk away in shame on the school bus — but the hatred in his eyes told us that he would never quit trying to be a major buzzkill for teens in the greater Chicago area.

Evil rating-8.3... Rooney's "off-screen" shenanigans —9.5

1. The 80s
Yeah, that's right...the 80s. The decade that gave us all of these dastardly villains also gave us: Rick Astley, New Coke, ColecoVision, the SuperBowl shuffle, Kimmy Gibler...you get my point. The 80s were the most horrid of villains...the kind that are amongst us, but we don't even know it. Those who had the sad misfortune to live through the 80s wore member's only jackets and side spiked their hair...blissfully unaware of the atrocities that were being inflicted upon them all the while. The 80s made this list possible...and that is a crime in and of itself. If you survived that tumultuous decade, I salute you. If you are still wearing parachute pants and listening to Steve Perry — it is much, much too late for you. Godspeed.

Evil rating-10

Back (and better than ever)

Alright, so it may have appeared that this blog was slowly going the way of the buffalo — but take heart, I am about to engage in more hilarity. The last post made on this blog was dated July 6, 2007...well, as luck would have it, our firstborn son came into this world on July 8, 2007, and well, there just is nothing funny about children. All the joy and laughter has simply vanished from our lives and now I am off to start blogging about spreadsheets and global-warming.

Okay, so maybe all of that isn't true (the bit about the kid is true — Trace Reagan was born on July 8th and is now slobbering and pooping at an 8th grade level). Maybe I've just become complacent in my blogging as things at home have gotten more hectic. That is all about to change. My early New Year's resolution is to keep this blog crazy up-to-date and so f'in funny you will be cursing your monitor for making you spit out your Egg Nog lattes.

There is a lot, A LOT, of really crappy stuff to reminisce about and to take apart. Way too much for me to let this blog slide into oblivion any longer.

Avast, me hearties...it's bloggin' time — and far to much is not as cool as you remember.

Zubaz, we hardly knew ye...

There have been many pants fads over the years. First came the stylish pantaloon (not to be confused with doubloons, for all ye pirates), then no significant advances in pant technology took place for quite a while...then some guy by the name of Levi Strauss and his buddies Jordache and Bugle Boy invented denim jeans, or "dungarees" if you are a pretentious ass. Many years again passed and along came corduroys, sweatpants, parachute pants and khakis—the world was now heavily pantsed and no one was left wanting for more pants varieties (except Mickey Rooney).

Fast forward to the early 1990s—Pants were still abundant and even Mickey Rooney had solved his pants crisis (he simply wore none), but two dreamers in a Los Angeles gymnasium were about to turn the pants world on its collective ear. Following such luminaries as Jonas Salk, Marie Curie and Albert Einstein; these two men developed a new kind of pant—one stretchy enough to cover even the most juiced-up quads and durable enough to survive both acid and stone-washings. The new pants were called: Zubaz.

I don't think that I am overstating when I say that Zubaz were the most important development of the 20th century. The creators of Zubaz took an idea that was first postulated by MC Hammer—that pants could be both garish and ridiculously poofy and blousy...and they gave it life. What was this flubber-like material that Zubaz were made out of? No one will ever know (some say "rayon"). All we do know is that Zubaz were meticulously covered in animal prints, fastened with a drawstring and were impenetrable by stains. Zubaz, simply put, were awesometasticradicaltubular.

Why do the brightest stars burn out so brightly? Why must everything beautiful be so fleeting? Sadly, this ode to Zubaz is no more than a eulogy. Zubaz pants were taken from us by the government in the year 1996 (much like they take egg nog away each January). Oh sure, you can still find relics scattered here and there...on bodybuilders...cut up and used as car chamois...on Mickey Rooney...but Zubaz are largely extinct in North America. Some day, when the world is better ready to accept something beautiful without destroying it...I believe that Zubaz will return. They might be adorned with NFL logos...they might strike a deal with the World Wrestling Federation...they might. For now, all we can do is wait, ever vigilant, for their return...and be forever mindful of the glorious few years when Zubaz (pronouned Zoo-baz) ruled the world and we ALL dared...to be different.

Need an Ideal Summer Sandal?...How About the Jelly Shoe?

I can't imagine what my childhood would have been like if I had never had the opportunity to adorn my feet with the very classy, glittery, comes-in-so-many-assorted-colors, and not to mention very cheap plastic jelly shoe. Oh my how the memories are wisping about in my mind like a cool breeze. Those sweet trips to the local Kings store where you could by anything from a Cyndi Lauper concert tee-shirt to the hard to find nowadays chicostick. It was a golden palace. We are talking surplus people, that is where you'll find the bargains and not to mention the must have jelly shoe bin.

Lets get real. For some reason I had to have them and for what; to stand there for an hour trying to untangle the ridiculous elastic strap holding the pair together from the rest of the pack. This fustration all due to the fact that there is only one purple pair left and it is all the way down to the bottom. Okay, I purchase them for a steal. There is no other sandal on the market this reasonably priced for such high fashion. I get home slip them on and I have automatically raised an inch. For a seven year old this is like wearing stilettos. All is well in the world, right? A few days go by and things seem to be pretty normal and then an odd stench begins to permeate from what is that?—my warn out dogs. I run them under cool water and move on. Strolling down the street in front of the neighbor boys strutting my stuff, and a rock gets caught in my shoe and I can't seem to get it out without taking off my whole shoe. The boys are watching, I take off my shoe, to my dismay it looks like I haven't worn shoes for weeks with all the dust and dirt that has collected on the sole of my foot. Now it is time to play all the exciting summer time games, kick the can, tea party all sorts. I hide and sneak and begin to jog, I'm on the home stretch and begin to sprint. Just when I am about to acheive victory...Snap! The plastic breaks and now my pinky toe is hanging out. I dig in and stick it out and then the whole damn shoe splits.

Walking home in defeat and utter ruin I limp home in these Godforsaken monstrosities and bury my head in my mother's chest in tears explaining the horrible chain of events. She comforts me and I cry myself to sleep. The next morning I awake and vow never to buy those tacky things again. Mom announces that she is headed to town and she might stop by Kings. Ahhhh yes, the whole saga begins all over again.

By Lacey Roberts