The new Coen Brothers movie

Brilliant. Friggin' brilliant.

Next week's "All Over the Map"

Here's my "All Over the Map" for next week's Arkansas Weekly:


Eat This, Not That! is a popular weight loss book from David Zinczenko, the editor of Men’s Health. The premise of the manual is to take two similar meals -- whether from popular restaurants or supermarket items – and compare the nutritional value.

For instance, the book recommends that one should eat a Big Mac rather than a Whopper because the latter has over 240 more calories and 20 extra grams of fat than the popular McDonald’s sandwich.

It also says that a Sonic burger with mustard is healthier than a Sonic Chicken Club Toaster sandwich; that the Prime Minister’s Prime Rib from Outback Steakhouse is better for you than an Ayers Rock Strip Steak from that same restaurant; and the Eggo Nutri-Grain Whole Wheat Waffle is better for you than the Eggo Buttermilk Waffles.

I’ve done some nutritional research over the years, and I have a master’s in nutritional studies from Harvard. (Actually, none of that is true. But for the sake of this particular column, work with me.) So in the spirit of Eat This, Not That!, here are a few comparisons of my own:

EAT THIS: For a healthy mid-morning snack, a banana is a fantastic and tasty opportunity to sneak in one of your servings of fruit during the day, as recommended by doctors and nutritionists.

NOT THAT: A mid-morning snack of Twinkies is simply full of fat, calories and processed ingredients.

EAT THIS: If you’re at the movies, non-buttered popcorn would be a fun snack to enjoy the latest film with the family.

NOT THAT: A snack of popcorn lathered in butter, nacho cheese and chocolate syrup that you’ve smuggled inside the theatre is not the best way to enjoy the latest Johnny Depp blockbuster. It’s full of fat and calories, and it’s also very messy.

EAT THIS: A dinner of salad with oil and vinegar dressing plus steamed veggies as the main course can be a wonderful and extremely healthy meal to wrap up the day. And with all of that roughage, you’re sure to be regular through the night, the next day and into the weekend.

NOT THAT: A dinner of consisting of a fried Little Debbie Swiss Cake Roll appetizer and hash brown-covered batter-fried sausage topped with cream gravy and nacho cheese as the main course should effectively clog most of your conduits in both your circulation and digestive systems to the effect you’ll need at least one heart catheter and extensive colonics for a two week period.

EAT THIS: Sashimi is a delectable and healthy meal, particularly when it’s dipped in low sodium soy sauce mixed with wasabi. Yes, it’s sliced raw fish, but don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.

NOT THIS: Raw cobra eaten while the snake is alive not only tastes disgusting and bleeds profusely, but it can also be a painful dining experience – particularly if the snake sinks its fangs into your left eyeball while you try to bite into its belly. Trust me. I know this from experience.

EAT THIS: A chicken soft taco served fresco-style is a delicious fast food alternative from Taco Bell.

NOT THAT: Gidget, the Chihuahua mascot from Taco Bell, who went to doggie heaven last week at the age of 15. That would be just wrong – unless you lived in rural China.

EAT THIS: A dessert of frozen yogurt in an ice-cold glass of Fresca is not only virtually calorie-free, but also very refreshing on a hot Summer day.

NOT THAT: A peanut butter ice cream float made with Colt 45 malt liquor in a 7-11 Big Gulp cup is full of fat, and it could cause you to walk into a retirement home clad only in white underwear briefs, black socks and a Razorback Hog Hat. Trust me. I know this from experience.

NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

The Taco Bell chihuahua has bit the dust. (Here's the article.) And in an irony to end all ironies, she'll be shipped overseas for use in a delectable chihuahua burrito supreme at a Mexican restaurant in rural South Korea.

Hey, speaking of fine cuisine, who's up for some bosintang?

Also, in non-canine eating news: check out the video for a new add to the Classic Rock 93 KZLE music library. It's right on the front page of the KZLE website which can be accessed by clicking here.

"All Over the Map" ketchups

Here are two of my "All Over the Maps" from recent issues of Arkansas Weekly that I never got around to posting here:

I’ve never really had a fear of most animals – except the big ones.

Oh, and animals with fangs. If they have fangs or large claws, then…well, I have a problem.

But otherwise, I’m fine with most animals, bugs, and other creatures.

Oh, wait. Furry animals that wear ribbons – namely, poodles – they scare me, too. It’s sort of like people who have a fear about clowns. That’s how I feel about poodles.

And cats! Man, cats are creepy. I picture Satan with a cat on his lap. Plus litter boxes are smelly and disgusting. Yuck.

So, just to re-cap: big animals, animals with fangs, animals with large claws, furry animals that wear ribbons, and cats – they all scare Rob.

Otherwise, I’m like The Crocodile Hunter when it comes to animals. Bring ‘em on!

(Let’s not take into account the fact that The Crocodile Hunter is no longer with us.)

Of course, I use extreme caution when I approach any type of creature whether it is the king cobra, a great white shark, or someone driving a pick-up truck with an “Ain’t Skeered” window sticker. I’ve actually never approached the first two, but I’ve several run-ins with the latter – particularly when I’m playing my Yanni CD too loud in my car at Sonic.

Still, I’ve always been fascinated with people who completely lose their marbles at the sight of a bee or wasp. How can such tiny, insignificant insects can spur extremely insane reactions is a mystery to me.

For instance, if my son sees a wasp a block away, his hair stands on end, his eyes pop out of their sockets, and he wildly runs the opposite way as if he is engulfed in flames.

I, on the other hand, am calm and composed whenever I come around a wasp or wasp’s nest.

For instance, last summer my son discovered a nest of wasps on my deck. After I took the time to peel him off the ceiling, I managed to have him show me where the nest was so I could take care of it. While he stood behind the sliding glass door, I took his pellet gun, calmly walked on the deck, and shot down the nest. Angry wasps scurried everywhere while I slowly slipped back behind the glass door and watched them scurry away in the air.

Mr. Cool, I was – the James Bond of wasp killers.

A couple of weeks ago, I spotted another wasp nest on my deck. The insects were crawling over it and buzzing around, so since I am Marlin Perkins (for those under 35 years of age, you are welcome to Google the name “Marlin Perkins”), I decided to grab my broom and knock it down.

With one jab, the nest plopped to the ground. The next thing I remember is just about every wasp from the nest heading in my direction.

And they looked very angry – much like the kamikaze pilots in old World War II movies.

I felt four or five of them all over my body.

BAM! One sting on my chin.

BAM! One sting on my thumb.

Then, after I screamed like a little girl, I could feel one crawling up under my t-shirt.

BAM! One sting on my big white belly.

A high-pitched “Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!” came out of my mouth as I jumped around, flailing my arms as if I was on fire. Now, I know why my son runs like that whenever he sees these suckers.

I finally managed to slide back the door and stumble inside, breathing heavy and feeling the stings.

“Holy moly!” I screamed – though a particular vulgarity was likely used instead of “moly.”

Those things are insane, I thought to myself. What was I thinking?

So, I now add wasps, hornets and bees to the list of animals and insects I will not work with should I ever be offered to host a show on the Animal Planet channel.

In fact, I think I should simply host a show that focuses exclusively on goldfish.

Extreme Goldfish with Rob Grace – coming soon to Animal Planet.

***

The recent news about a young South Dakota rancher hitting the Powerball lottery to the tune of over $232 million (!) got me thinking.

If I won $232 million, or even $10 million, what would I do with some of that fresh cold cash?

I would not be like many of these yoo-hahs who blow their newly-won winnings on inane purchases. I’d be incredibly responsible.

First, I’d pay off all of my bills. It’s good to clear up all your bills anytime you receive a large influx of capital. Besides, I’m getting tired of avoiding phone calls from my dentist, my bookie from Amagon, my ballet teacher (you gotta problem with that?), my proctologist, my nail salon, my bookie from Thida, my hairpiece stylist, the guy I bought the spinners from for my lawnmower, my bookie from Timbo, my tanning salon, and Thirsty, the angry biker from Sandtown.

I owe Thirsty fifty bucks for betting that American Idol finalist Adam Lambert was actually straight.

Man, I didn’t see that one coming.

After all my debts were clear, I’d then buy a nice, simple mansion – something no more than 40,000 square feet, of course. It wouldn’t be too fancy. Obviously, there’d have to be a place for my daily sessions of yoga, meditation and colonics. I would need high ceilings to accommodate the Green Giant-size bronze sculptures of myself that I’ll have commissioned once I get my first lottery installment. But I’d only commission five. I’m not that egotistic.

The mansion would also have to have a nine car garage – though “nine car” is a bit misleading since the garage would have to be large enough for the nine Monster Jam trucks I’ll be purchasing.

For the kitchen, I would simply have one of those China buffets set up 24/7.

Of course, I’ll need to have an airstrip next to the house for my new jet. But I would not want my view of the Atlantic Ocean compromised by the jet, so I’d have to purchase the two mansions next to me and have them torn down.

But otherwise, my newly built home would be just like any other 40,000 square foot home.

I’ve always frowned upon any type of cosmetic surgery, but I have to admit, I might have just a little bit of work done. For instance, I’ve always felt I was too tan. So, I’d have my skin slightly whitened like Michael Jackson. Of course, some collagen in my lips would also be nice. I’d like to have some plump Angelina Jolie/Mick Jagger lips – only twice the size. I’ve always thought I’d look striking if my eyes were somewhat like those of Marty Feldman. I’d also get a hair weave somewhat similar to a large afro. Finally – and you may think I’m over the top here – but I would love to have an exotic nose similar to Jamie Farr’s nose from M*A*S*H.

Think of the women who would be beating down my door if I had that look!

I’d have to make some business investments with my newfound fortune. I’d put some cash in a few stocks and bonds. Real estate is always a good investment, and for some reason, I think swamps are sorely underutilized for property development. Plus, since my crews will have to slaughter all of the alligators in the swamps, I could make a killing selling their skins to boot makers. For that matter, with all of those swamp critters we’ll be massacring, I could start a new fast food chain featuring nothing but reptile. I’ll call it “Gators & Snakes.” We’ll have all the fried gator and snakes you can eat. (I bet that stomach of yours is growling at this exact moment.)

I think another solid investment choice I would make would be the telegram industry. After all, this is an information society and if one wants to securely and quickly get a message to someone else in another county or another state, a telegram is the way to go. Besides, since Western Union stopped sending telegrams, there’s a big hole in the telegram market.

Western Union. Ha. What kind of company would get out of the telegram business this day and time? Morons.

Finally, I would certainly utilize some of my winnings to help the less fortunate in this world. For instance, women applying for work at Hooters are at an immediate disadvantage if they have not had surgical enhancements on a certain part of their body. To that end, I would pledge to start a fund that offers this particular procedure at no charge for hard-working women who are under the age of 25 and do not have a face that’s more at home under a paper bag.

I know. The limits of my goodwill and generosity know no bounds.

So, with the lottery coming to Arkansas, I think every citizen in the state should purchase a ticket for me because, as you can plainly see, I would responsibly utilize the winnings in a much better fashion than most of you.

I’ll remind you of this when the lottery begins in a few months.

Thank you for your time.

This week's "All Over the Map"

Here's my "All Over the Map" from this week's Arkansas Weekly:

I’m late as usual.

Hours past deadline, and the sweet, angelic and patient woman who physically puts my column onto the page you are reading now has suddenly turned into the girl from The Exorcist.

“WHERE’S YOUR COLUMN?!?” she screamed in a voice that would make Godzilla scurry away with his tail between his legs. She even spewed green bile all over my office, and her head did a complete 360.

Scary.

See, it’s been a week from Hades down here at the W.R.D. Entertainment offices. For the second time in about ten years, lightning struck our building and fried all types of equipment and computers just like a KFC chicken leg. When you’re running six radio stations out of one building and something this drastic happens, we lose satellite feeds, music comes out distorted from one channel on some stations, and our usually jovial studio engineer contemplates just walking away from it all and joining a monastery.

So, here it is Friday, and I’m just now finding time to write my silly column.

But with my mind focused on lightning damage for the past few days, I’m struggling to find a topic for this week’s “All Over the Map.”

I could write some more about Michael Jackson, but if I read one more story about the “King of Pop,” I think I’ll jump off a bridge. (I will say that finally seeing the complete video of Jackson’s hair catch fire from that 1984 Pepsi commercial mishap was wild and a bit funny, but then when I realized how horrific it must have been and that it was that incident that likely prompted his reliance on painkillers, I felt a bit guilty.)

I could write about the unbelievably raunchy comedy Bruno, but it might spur some people to see the movie, and when they do, some of those people might surround the theatre with torches and pitchforks afterwards. Besides I’ve already written a bunch of words regarding this film in the “Movies” section a few pages over.

Uh-oh. I hear some stomping coming down the hall to my office.

Artist's rendering of Arkansas Weekly graphics designer when she realizes Rob's column is past deadline.

“WHERE’S YOUR COLUMN?!?”

She’s back. Hold on.

“Give me a few more minutes,” I tell her. “I’m almost finished.”

“HURRY UP!!!”

Aw…man. She just shot some of that green stuff all over my face.

Hang on. Let me get a towel.

Where was I?

Oh. A topic.

Hmmmm…let me think.

Well, how about some interesting facts about Taco Bell? Did you know that in corporate meetings at Taco Bell, executives actually tell their team to “Think outside the bun”? This is according to the website www.11points.com. Other interesting trivia facts regarding Taco Bell I learned from the website: they use over 600,000 cows’ worth of beef per year; their franchises struggle in Mexico to succeed; and if you appear in one of their national television commercials, you can eat free at Taco Bell for life (but, apparently, the company does not volunteer this information).

Finally, judging by a recent television show I recently came across, it might be safe to say that civilization is nearing the end times.

Half-asleep, aimlessly switching the channels the other night, I found the new reality television show entitled, Dance Your Ass Off.

In disbelief, I watched a horrid hybrid of Dancing with the Stars and The Biggest Loser as poor obese folks, dressed in flowing blouses and unfortunately tight pants, danced elaborate numbers with a professional partner in order to lose weight and gain confidence.

There’s nothing wrong with that, I suppose, but I hate any dancing reality show. And when I watch one of these weight-loss reality shows, I’m always afraid one of those poor souls is going to permanently fall to their knees clutching their chest while trying to complete an obstacle course.



So just think if a contestant on Dance Your Ass Off suffered the same fate? Think about it: if you were a guy, wouldn’t you hate to go out face first on a dance floor wearing a sequined blouse to the strains of a Gloria Estefan song?

“ROOOBBB!!!”

Oops. I hear her stomping down the hall. I’ll wrap it up before she starts to levitate and throw me out the window.

Bruno's Arkansas Connection

It's old news that Sacha Baron Cohen hoodwinked a bunch of good ole boys in Fort Smith for the finale of Bruno, the Borat-template film that opens tomorrow. In fact, exactly one year and a day ago, I posted this about the hilarious stunt.

I plan on catching the movie this weekend, but I'm fairly certain the knuckledraggers that are prominently featured in that finale will not do wonders for the image many outsiders have of Arkansas. London's Telegraph newspaper recently talked to the manager of the Fort Smith facility that hosted the cage match at the center of the joke.

Here's the article.

Oh, and for those of you who might not be familar with Cohen's Bruno character, here's a fun quiz.

Guess which celebrity is Bruno in the picture below?

Here's a hint: the character of Bruno is a flamboyant gay journalist from Austria.

I know...it's hard, isn't it?

Good luck!

Is Michael Jackson dead?!?

Here's my "All Over the Map" for next week's Arkansas Weekly:

In this age of 24/7 news and information, it’s somewhat mystifying that it still can be tough confirming certain stories.

Take a look at the recent media blackout by Iran of the riots following that country’s disputed presidential election. News outlets struggled to get information from the uprising, and as a result, unconfirmed rumors were rampant.

However, a more recent story has been struggling to reach the masses, and it originates not from Iran – but from America.

And you might want to sit down for this one.

I have yet to confirm this, but after watching many of the cable news outlets as well as reading stories and posts from a multitude of websites over the past two weeks, I think something tragic has happened in California.

And here it is: I think Michael Jackson has died.

(I’ll pause here so you can collect yourself from the initial shock.)

Again, I can’t confirm it, but after watching hours of CNN, Fox News, MSNBC, HLN, CNBC, BBC America, MTV, VH1, BET, E!, Fuse, Lifetime, CMT, Bravo, ESPN, ESPN 2, ESPN Classic, The Weather Channel, HGTV, The Outdoor Channel, RFD-TV, C-SPAN, The History Channel, Home Shopping Network, The Food Network, The Speed Channel, Animal Planet and The Golf Channel, I really think the King of Pop has passed away.

I know what you’re thinking: Rob, where in the world did you get such a crazy idea?

It is crazy, right? But all of the cable channels above – and even more – have been saying for the past few days that Michael Jackson has indeed died.

So, I decided to go to the Internet and see if I could prove that Michael Jackson has left us.

I first went to Google, and I typed in the following words: “Michael Jackson dies.”

In 0.27 seconds, Google informed me that there were about 67,500,000 results on the Internet with the words “Michael Jackson dies.”

Hmmmm.

I turned my attention back to the television. On CNN, Larry King is interviewing their legal expert, Jeffrey Toobin, about Michael Jackson’s “will.” I’m still not sure.

I turn to Fox News. Glenn Beck is weeping about socialized health care or something. I’ll switch back later.

On MSNBC, Keith Olbermann is blaming George W. Bush for Michael Jackson’s “demise.” “Are you now, finally, happy Mr. President – SIR – that your failed agenda likely drove one of this country’s most cherished pop icons to his final resting place?,” Olbermann says. “Will that finally make your miserable life complete – SIR?”

On MTV, there is something called The Cast of The Hills Remember the Life of Michael Jackson, but I can barely watch it because I want to reach through the television and strangle Spencer and Heidi with piano wire.

On Galavision, there is a man dressed up as Michael Jackson in an angel costume talking to another man in a bumblebee costume and a beautiful woman with an enormous chest and a big hairstyle. But I can’t understand anything because it’s in Spanish.

I switch back to Fox News. Glenn Beck is still crying. “I weep because the values of this great country are literally being molested by the Obamas, the Pelosis, the Clintons, the Frankens, and the liberal hippie tax-mongers of this world!” he screams. I’ll switch back later.

On CMT, Toby Keith is singing a version of Michael Jackson’s “She’s Out of My Life” while dressed as the King of Pop. Keith looks like a transvestite on steroids with this look. I will now have nightmares.

On RFD-TV, a farmer is being interviewed. “So,” the RFD-TV journalist asks, “how will your crop be affected by the death of Michael Jackson?” In the background, the farmer’s cow is dressed like Michael Jackson.

Wow, I think. If RFD-TV is saying that Michael Jackson is dead, then…he must be dead.

How did I go so long without knowing this? I’d think our news outlets would be providing more coverage. I mean, after all, Michael Jackson was the King of Pop. He died on June 25, and I’m just now finding out.

I have to clear my head. This is big news that will take a few days for me to fully grasp the significance.

I switch back to Fox News. Glenn Beck is still crying. However, he is now being taken off the set by two orderlies. Beck is clad in a straitjacket. “You see this America?!? These men are the Obama Gestapo!!!” he screams.

I’ll switch back later.