Here's My "All Over the Map" from the 08.29.2012 Arkansas Weekly - A questionnaire

My "All Over the Map" from next week's Arkansas Weekly:

A questionnaire.

The Stones or The Beatles? The Stones, particularly from 1969 to 1980.

Original recipe or crispy? Original, all the way.

Early Elvis or Vegas Elvis? Both, and skip most of his 1960s output.

In terms of hot female conservative pundits, Ann Coulter or Laura Ingraham? Ingraham, by a mile. Skela-Coulter scares me; something is definitely askew upstairs.

Laura Ingraham. Next to Karl Rove, she's America's Hottest Conservative.

In terms of hot female liberal pundits, Donna Brazile or Rachel Maddow? Pass.

Shepard Smith or Anderson Cooper? Oh, I think we can all agree that both are dreamboats, right guys?

Shep and the Coop

Deep crust or thin? Thin. And crunchy.

Leno or Letterman? There is no argument. Letterman. Letterman. Letterman. The goofier, the more sarcastic, etc., the better. Plus bonus points for Alan Kalter, the funniest announcer on television and Carrot Top’s possible father.

Kenny Chesney or Tim McGraw? This is like most Presidential elections: Picking the lesser of two evils. So I’ll go McGraw because one of his hits is a remake of a Ryan (not Bryan) Adams tune. Plus, his wife is a complete babe. Now if it was Tim McGraw or Jamey Johnson, I’m a Johnson man through and through.

For a weekend trip, Dallas or St. Louis? Oh. Tough one. But I’ll have to go with St. Louis simply because it has rich history and character, it has fantastic Italian restaurants, it’s where Budweiser beer is brewed, and in particular, it is the home of the World Champion St. Louis Cardinals.

Fox or MSNBC? CNN. I dig Wolf Blitzer’s massive face of hair.

Facebook or Twitter? Twitter. I find it a challenge to properly form a joke in 140 characters. But since I am a comedic genius (and those aren’t my words -- I’m just quoting my mother), it’s really not as hard as it sounds. Plus, I don’t get any requests for Lucky Slots!

Team Robert or Team Kristen? I can’t answer this. I’ll get too emotional. Sniffle.

Team Jacob or Team Edward? Team Van Helsing. Just because he’d kill ‘em both.

When it comes to ribs, wet or dry? Wet, for the most part, but definitely some dry ones at the Rendezvous.

Bugs Bunny or Mickey Mouse? Bugs, all the way! “Looney Tunes” rules.

Van Halen or Van Hagar? Both have their particular strengths and weaknesses, but for full on late night rock, it has to be Van Halen, correct? I mean, “Ain’t Talkin’ ‘Bout Love”? Come on! DLR POWER!

Chewbacca or Sasquatch in a fight to the death battle? Chewbacca, because while Sasquatch is screaming and waving his arms trying to intimidate his fellow furry opponent, Chewie would just do an Indiana Jones and simply shoot Sasquatch with his laser gun.

Chewbacca or The Six Million Dollar Man? The Six Million Dollar Man. Not only because he has previously bested Sasquatch in hand-to-hand combat, but because Steve Austin could use his bionic speed and strength to tackle Chewbacca, wrestle the laser gun from the holster, and use it to laserblast Chewie’s face off until there’d be nothing left but blackened, exposed bone and the pungent smell of burnt Wookie hair and flesh.

Prince or Michael Jackson? Why, His Purple Majesty of course! The Artist Formerly Known as The Artist Formerly Known as Prince gave us “When Doves Cry,” “Kiss,” “Purple Rain,” “Raspberry Beret,” “Little Red Corvette,” “When You Were Mine,” “Erotic City,” and on and on and on. Michael Jackson gave us “The Girl is Mine” and creepy feelings. (Though I would have liked to have seen a hand-to-hand death match between the two. It would have been the biggest sissy slap fight ever thrown down.)

Finally, the most important: Boxers or briefs? Neither. Leopard print thongs.

           

My "All Over the Map" from the 08.22.2012 Arkansas Weekly -- I'm Sorry

Here's my "All Over the Map" from the 08.22.2012 Arkansas Weekly. And, again, I'm sorry.

Boy, I was a horrifically rude jerk to some folks yesterday. I mean, downright arrogant and nasty.

I’ve been pegged as aloof and stuck up by many folks, but I would argue that I am simply a little shy when I’m around strangers. When you get to know me, I’m a goofball sweetheart -- a goofball sweetheart with an unfortunate resemblance to Edgar Winter, but a goofball sweetheart nonetheless.

I mean, except for the infamous Cushman, Arkansas Riots of 1999 which I organized after the local quick mart stopped selling those ginormous dill pickles in the big jar, I’ve been known to be somewhat of a nice guy.

I won’t go into the particulars of why I uncharacteristically got my panties in a wad yesterday, suffice to say, wittle Robbie was not getting his way.

Wittle Robbie wanted something and HE WANTED IT NOW!

But, I knew I had been a jerk. I stewed about it for 30 minutes or so, and after thought and consultation with some folks close to me, I called back and apologized.

All was well. I felt better. I hope, maybe, the other parties felt better.

And when I realized I was having all these rainbows and sunshine feelings after offering a humble apology, I decided to go back through some other recent incidents in my life in which I might have offended or slighted someone. So, here in the pages of Arkansas Weekly, I’d like to apologize to the following people:

My good friend, Vurl “Buddy” Reeve. I know you’re getting up into your late 80s, Buddy, and it’s unfortunate that you now have to get around on that little motorized scooter. So, I do apologize for tampering with the scooter’s brakes and also the steering, which eventually caused you and the scooter to speed uncontrollably out into morning traffic at the St. Louis and Harrison intersection. I will admit, though, it was so fun to hear you scream when that big chicken truck was heading straight towards you.

Oh, and I’m also the one that put the Obama 2012 sticker on the back of your scooter. Sorry about that, too.

Ethel, the drive-thru teller at my local bank. Ethel, I’m sorry, but I still can’t remember why I was not wearing pants that day.

A waitress at an area restaurant. Ma’am, whatever your name is, I was the guy that looked like Edgar Winter that sat with some friends at your table a couple of weeks ago. You may not remember me, but I ordered a burger with blue cheese crumbles.

A few minutes later, you came back from the kitchen and said they were out of blue cheese crumbles, and I threw a little tantrum. So, I’m sorry for taking the order pad out of your hands and for screaming, “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!? CAN SOMEONE NOT GO TO THE GROCERY STORE RIGHT DOWN THE STREET AND GET SOME (censored) BLUE CHEESE CRUMBLES?!? I WANT SOME (censored) BLUE CHEESE CRUMBLES ON MY (censored) HAMBURGER, AND I WANT THEM NOW!!!”

Is any of this coming back to you?

Then, I tore up your order pad and turned over the table, spilling all of our drinks and tater skin appetizers. Then, I took my chair and threw it through the window. Then, I mooned the fellow patrons (one of whom I later realized was my pastor), and then I poured lighter fluid all over myself, took out a match, and screamed: “SOMEBODY IN THIS (censored) RESTAURANT BETTER (censored) GET ME SOME (censored) BLUE (censored) CHEESE (censored) CRUMBLES RIGHT (censored) NOW, OR I AM (censored) GOING TO (censored) BURN MY(censored)SELF (censored) ALIVE RIGHT (censored) NOW!”

Ma’am, if you’re reading this and if this sounds familiar, that was me.

I’m sorry.

Miley's new 'do. Isn't it cuuuuuuuute?

  

Miley Cyrus. This is a really important apology.

Miley, Baby, I’m sorry. I know the court order says I am to stay at least 500 miles away from you, but I’m sorry you screamed and spazzed out when you found me in your closet dressed up like Hannah Montana last night. Miley, Honey, I just wanted to be a little goofy and surprise you because, Sweet Cheeks, I know you’re going through a lot of pressure right now with, you know, your career, and all the gossip about your cute new haircut (I loooooove it!), and those mean, old paparazzi and such, and Honey Lips, I only wanted you to see this playful side of me.

I mean, Snookum Boo, the only side of me you know is the side of me that stands outside your house holding a large butcher knife and wearing a mask, that gets beat up by your bodyguards, and that gets arrested for “stalking” you. That’s just one side of me. And I’m more than that. Like I said, I’m playful. Funny. A little sexy, I think. And I’m regular when it comes to my digestive system. So, I think I really would make a great partner for you.

Again, I’m sorry.

I didn’t mean to upset you.

Well, I must go, my Sugar Bear. The guard has discovered I’ve smuggled my laptop into the county jail, and as such, I’m set to have some emergency corrective surgery by a local proctologist.

Be good. See you when I get out.

And, again, I’m sorry.

***

And apologies to Steve Martin, who did this much better, with “A Public Apology” from his 1998 collection of stories, Pure Drivel.

See, he reads “All Over the Map” religiously on my blog, suburbanvoodoo.blogspot.com so I’m positive he’ll be contacting me as soon as this is posted online.

Steve, my good friend and mentor, I was inspired by your genius. Hope to see you soon. Had a blast in St. Barts with you.

Actually, I’m lying.

I don’t know Steve Martin. I didn’t vacation with him in St. Barts. And he has no idea who I am.

So, I apologize for that too.

My 08.08.2012 "All Over the Map" from Arkansas Weekly

Here's my "All Over the Map" from the 08.08.2012 Arkansas Weekly:

Artist rendering of Nostradamus. He looked sort of like this, but wore hair extensions on occasion -- particularly when he felt 'sassy.'

It’s been well documented that I have psychic powers. In fact, in some of the psychic circles in which I run, I’ve been described as Nostradamus-like, but without the long beard and crazyman glare. 

         

I’m also not as doom and gloom with my predictions as the Big N so often was. My visions have generally been more upbeat, positive, and as on the occasion where I correctly predicted the ascension of The Wiggles on the children’s concert circuit, kid-friendly.

          

This is not to say I don’t have horrifying predictions. I just choose not to reveal them for particular reasons. For instance, I kept secret my prediction that Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes would soon divorce because I didn’t want to upset all of the sensitive Tom-Kat fans. Plus, keeping this one close to the vest provided me the opportunity to make the move on Katie at just the right moment.

          

But, like I said, I’m more of a feel-good Nostradamus. And lately, I’ve been overwhelmed by some really positive visions that need to be recorded for history’s sake. I can’t let Nostradamus get away with being the “primo prophecy guy” for the rest of the ages. I have to have some oracle glory myself, you know?

          

So, here’s what I see for the future.

          

PREDICTION 1: I visualize that medical advances and healthier lifestyles will dramatically increase the length of the average life and cause the world’s population to explode as we grow well into our 100s. Of course, rent will be sky-high and we’ll eventually run out of food, but that’s where this nifty little snack called Soylent Green will come into play. Since I have psychic powers, I’ve already started the groundwork for the Soylent Green formula and patent, and it’s my hope to have taste-testing labs up and running in a decade or two. And trust me, this Soylent Green stuff is going to go great with Cheez Whiz.

          

PREDICTION 2: I visualize that at the age of 94, Bruce Springsteen will play the longest concert of his life at the Westworld Music Fest. The concert will last 14 hours and 12 minutes, but will be disrupted at the last minute by a circuitry kink in the robots that service the popular android theme park. Springsteen and his E Street Band members will be chased off the stage by a black-clad cowboy gunslinger that looks suspiciously like the late actor, Yul Brynner. Thankfully, a robot from futuristic times that looks suspiciously like Arnold Schwarzenegger will burst through a time warp on a motorcycle and shoot the gunslinger chasing Springsteen with a .50 caliber automatic machine gun. The futuristic Schwarzenegger android will then blow smoke from the barrel of his gun, look to Springsteen, and say: “Now, who’s the Boss?”

          

PREDICTION 3: Female music fans across the world will be shocked to learn that, after years of therapy, mega pop star Justin Bieber will decide to have male-to-female gender reassignment surgery and will be further known as Justina Bieber. After hearing several reports of middle-aged women self-immolating themselves after this horrifying news, Bieber will surgically revert back to his original sex but will be severely bummed to learn that one certain surgical procedure made during the transition is permanent.

          

PREDICTION 4: Chaz Bono will be arrested for stalking Justina Bieber.

          

PREDICTION 5: Due to genetic advances, certain breeds of animals and other species will develop the ability to think, speak and act for themselves. This advance will prove revolutionary for dogs, cats, and even a large group of gay chickens being raised for Chick-fil-A who will file suit against the company for equal partner status. Unfortunately, the point will be moot for the chickens since they’re going to end up stuffed between two buns anyway.

          

However, the intellectual progress of the ape family will be startling. Soon, all types of apes and monkeys will enter society and begin to effectively communicate and interact with their human counterparts. Some monkeys will begin following a particularly intelligent chimpanzee named Caesar. With his newfound fame, Caesar will begin dating Kim Kardashian and enjoy the high life of celebrity. With three other chimpanzee friends, Caesar will form a pop band called The Monkeys. However, he will be successfully sued by Peter Tork, the last surviving member of the 1960s band, The Monkees, for copyright and intellectual property issues. This act will enrage Caesar so much that he decides to lead his fellow apes and monkeys in an all-out revolution against the human race.

          

The rest of my vision gets a little cloudy around this part, but it involves something called a Matrix and a man named Neo who eventually saves the day.

          

But, mark my words. This stuff is all going to play out, and soon, it’ll be “Nostra-who?” and Robadobbadamus will enter the history books as the world’s greatest psychic! 

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