Next week's "All Over the Map"

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

It’s been a while since I’ve had a physical.

Putting off my checkup is the result of procrastination, worry that a long needle will be involved in some fashion, and an extreme reluctance to experience a probable prostate examination.

I’m at that age, you know.

I’m also at the age where I’m experiencing some odd aches and pains, as well as other new ailments that I, unfortunately, feel I’ll have to bring up to my doctor.

For instance, I’ve been having a severe ache in my left shoulder and upper arm. I’m wondering if it’s a rotator cuff issue, or worse, an indication of some heart problems.

I mean, don’t get me wrong: If I have a serious problem, I obviously have to take the appropriate action my doctor recommends.

I just dread the likely use of needles.

And the shoulder problem is just one issue. I have plenty of others that I feel will need attention.

My fingers sometimes stiffen and ache, particularly in the morning. Arthritis? Carpal Tunnel Syndrome? Or could it be the result of neglecting to tend to my hand after I slammed it in my car door a few months ago? I think I should have had it x-rayed – particularly after it turned black, swelled to the size of Mickey Mouse’s glove and three fingernails fell off.

And here’s something odd: What does it mean if your ear wax is dark green, fuzzy and actually crawls off the Q-Tip? That might be an issue.

I need to ask if there would be a reason why, without any nausea, I spontaneously throw up when I come across Nancy Grace’s nostrils on Headline News. (And, of course, by Nancy Grace, I mean the television host, not my mom – who has beautiful nostrils.)

I’ve got to do something about my toenails. I really have to start clipping them on a regular basis. They’ve curled upward so much, I’m having to wear sandals. They also seem to scare small children and, well, everyone else.

There’s a constant sharp pain in my right ear, and many times I also have bleeding in that particular area. However, when I remove the ice pick, the pain and bleeding stop. That’s odd, isn’t it?

I’m losing hair under my right armpit, but I’m growing thick patches of hair under the curly nails of my big toes.

When I sleep, I usually have to go to the bathroom -- 37 times.

I sometimes dress as Bozo, then go to the bank and ask for a loan to build a fleet of Monster Trucks fueled entirely by mayonnaise. Perhaps there is a pill that will stop me from doing this because it’s hell to stuff my feet and toenails into those clown shoes.

Oh – I also probably need some antibiotics of some type. Rascal, my pet opossum, bit my right pinky the other day, and the finger now has the color and texture of a Slim Jim.

I’m not mad at Rascal, by the way. He simply got a little rambunctious when I tried to dress him in his Batman costume.

Finally, I’ve recently noticed that when I go outside during daylight, my skin burns. I know my pigmentation is extremely sensitive, but it’s started to become ridiculous. So, now I mainly sleep during the day and work all night.

I’ve also noticed an extreme allergic reaction to garlic. In fact, my diet now simply consists of extremely rare and bloody steak, and I’m getting tired of that. I’m craving something else that I can’t exactly pinpoint. It’s driving me batty.

And, I know this question probably needs to be answered by my dentist, but why in the world would I now have a set of fangs?

Crazy, huh?

Last week's "All Over the Map"

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

Those of you who know me know that I'm very basic when it comes to my wardrobe: Sweaters in the winter, t-shirts in the summer, and jeans and work boots year-round. I keep it simple so I don't have worry about what to wear in the morning.

However, all of that has changed.

Visualize, if you will, my all-new look: a fur-lined fedora hat; high, thick-heeled zip-up boots; a rhinestone studded jumpsuit and cape; and, of course, a cane with rhinestones embedded at the top.

Oh, and I've colored my hair and eyebrows jet black.

I started to go to the tanning salon, but the women there noted that with my skin tone, I would need at least 457 sessions just to get cream colored.

That withstanding, I still look delicious with my new wardrobe.

And I've decided to change my name from Rob Grace to The Breakdown.

You know -- like The Situation on the MTV series, Jersey Shore. See, I'm The Breakdown because I can break it down. I can break down any situation. I can break down any lady. And obviously, I can break it down on the dance floor.

The Breakdown, got it?

And I now refer to myself in the third person.

So, The Breakdown went cruising the town the other night with his new look.

The Breakdown cruised through Sonic, nodded to the ladies.

The Breakdown cruised through the convenience store parking lot, nodded to the ladies.

The Breakdown cruised through the convenience store car wash, nodded to his reflection in the rearview mirror.

All eyes, needless to say, were on The Breakdown.

The Breakdown then went to Thida. The Breakdown thought he would hang at the local convenience store parking lot, maybe sit on the hood of The Breakdown's restored AMC Pacer and rap with the locals also hanging at the lot.

The Breakdown did just that.

The locals seemed a little perplexed. Some seemed disgusted at The Breakdown's outfit.

The last thing The Breakdown remembers is asking one of the locals if The Breakdown's jumpsuit accentuated The Breakdown's rear end.

The Breakdown is now in room 9836 at the local medical center.

The doctor successfully reattached The Breakdown's nose this morning.

However, The Breakdown is still missing his ear.

The Breakdown believes it's still somewhere in Thida.

Along with most of The Breakdown's teeth.

Solidarity.

Actually, first and foremost, I'm a Letterman man. But, then it's Conan. Viva la Coco!

"Oh, you mean, over the diaper?"

Painful to watch...

...but some are funny as hell.

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

Friggin' bastard King

Friggin' bastard Larry King has ripped off my look!

First Veto of 2010

You can safely bank on the fact that I will not see a lot of movies this year simply because I know I'd rather eat chipmunk turds than sit through some the dreck that flows from Hollywood.

And, without hesitation, I can say the first movie on my 2010 veto list -- a movie that I will not see, no matter the circumstance -- is this:

Ugh. I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.

What a Great Nap!

I've been napping.

Here's to a new year and more posting.

From the December 16, 2009 edition of Arkansas Weekly, here's T. Blanston, Jr., via my "All Over the Map":

Merry Christmas!

I noted last week that I was struggling with a bit of the "writer's block," and unfortunately, I'm still afflicted with the condition.

(Wouldn't it be great if there was some type of ointment -- like, say, Preparation H -- to eradicate writer's block?)

Anyway, my good friend and poker buddy, T. Blanston, Jr., has graciously offered his services this week in filling this space. And his topic is one that is very dear to his heart...

Greetings from Rancho Paradiso on the shores of the gorgeous Loch Greers Ferry! And Happy Holidays to all!

Friends and neighbors, allow me to pontificate on a subject that needs our urgent attention.

As you all know, when I'm not dodging Taliban bullets on a dangerous journalism assignment in Afghanistan or sunning on the beaches of St. Tropez with my good friends George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie, Kanye West and Barbara Eden, I can usually be found here at my beautiful ranch nestled on the shores of Loch Greers Ferry. I treasure my time here at the Rancho. I enjoy performing Tai Chi on my deck over the loch. I love gazing at the sparkling stars in the dark night. And I particularly adore frolicking in my large hot tub with my good friends Charlize Theron, Penelope Cruz, Carrie Underwood and Florence Henderson when they're in town.

However, dear readers, I must confess that around this time of the year, I become somewhat discouraged at the fate of humanity when I hear gunfire in the distance before dawn; when I see automated feeders and metal stands against the trees in the forest; and when I see a battered and dirty vehicle barreling down the highway with a poor, defenseless deer -- DEAD -- tied across the hood.

Am I missing something? Exactly what is the point of killing an animal so peaceful and majestic? Have we, as humans, reverted back to our caveman predecessors and embraced their brute and sadistic ways? What perverted thrill do hunters receive when they slaughter such a lovely animal? Are these mouth breathers and knuckle draggers compensating for some type of fault or shortcoming in their manliness (since most hunters are men)? Did their mommies not give them enough attention?

Sure, the pro-hunting lobbyists and propagandists always spew well-worn deceits when criticism comes their way. The common lie is that hunting is good for the deer since they've become so overpopulated.

Right! And the next thing you'll tell me is that President Obama's health care plan is a bad idea.

Please.

The act of hunting deer has enraged me so much that I've decided to take action. I know most of you reading this agree with me on this subject one hundred percent. That's why I've joined forces with such legendary and patriotic groups as People for the Ethical Treatment for Animals (PETA), the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU), the gun control lobby, as well as Barbra Streisand, to form a coalition that will outlaw this sadistic form of "recreation."

I've been in personal contact with senior Democratic congressmen and women, and I can assure you that they feel very strongly about this issue. In fact, a bill that will feature the criminalization of deer hunters will start to make its way through the House and Senate as soon as the historic and much-needed health care legislation is passed. I know my good friends Keith Olbermann, Rachel Maddow, Sen. Al Franken, Al Gore, Rosie O'Donnell and Tim Robbins will join Ms. Streisand in helping spread the word about the decadent practice of deer hunting.

In fact, I've enlisted these American legends to appear at an anti-deer hunting benefit concert and rally that will be held next November, at the beginning of deer season, in Thida, Arkansas. There, we will be offering deer hunters the opportunity to turn over their firearms, multi-terrain vehicles, four-wheelers and camouflage in exchange for free lifetime memberships in both PETA and the ACLU. With the help of the Obama administration, we will also federally deputize our supporters who will then go door to door to peacefully seize the firearms of those hunters who are unwilling to surrender their tools of depravity.

It should be a wonderful and historic time, and I encourage all of you to mark that date on your calendar.

And with that, I must hop on my jet that's waiting at the Batesville International Airport. I'm off to Denmark to show my support for our presence at the climate control conference. American businesses and industries must pay trillions of dollars for improvements in environmental protection. I think we all can agree that our country's pursuit of the almighty dollar has done irreparable harm to Mother Earth, and it's time for them to pay.

I'll be joined on my trip by my good friends Rev. Al Sharpton, Gore Vidal, Nancy Pelosi, the cast of Jersey Shore and six of Tiger Woods' former mistresses.