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December 2009


All Over the Map
by Rob Grace
December 30, 2009

Rob will be back next week.

Rob Grace is the president of W.R.D. Entertainment. Feel free to e-mail him at, and check out his blog:

All Over the Map
by Rob Grace
December 23, 2009

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.


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.


Rob Grace is the president of W.R.D. Entertainment. Feel free to e-mail him at, and check out his blog:

T. Blanston, Jr. can be reached through Rob's e-mail. Mr. Blanston prefers to keep his e-mail private. And this column does not reflect the opinion of Rob or Arkansas Weekly. We like deer chili.

All Over the Map
by Rob Grace
December 16, 2009

I have writer's block this week, and it's driving me batty.

So instead of wasting time looking at a blank computer screen, I went into the archives to find the following column I wrote years ago.

Digging through the old issues of Arkansas Weekly revealed pictures of some very young looking folks who still haunt these offices (myself included), and it also reminded me that I've written some really, really bad columns.

I'd like to think I've improved, but I have my doubts.

Anyway, after searching for a half-way decent column to reprint, I came across this one I wrote for the August 23, 2000 issue.

The 2000 Democratic and Republican conventions have come and gone, and America is on edge waiting to find out who will be the final castaway on Survivor.

Did I mention the political conventions have come and gone?

Is it me, or is the indifference about the presidential race a spooky thing?

Have we all become accustomed to the bland candidates, following their party's political line like a puppy on a leash while posturing and acting like a generic Joe Blow politician to the extent that we don't give a darn anymore?

Andy Griffith should have run for president. I suppose he still could in 2004, but if his name was on the 2000 ticket, he would have spared us from having Goober the mechanic (Bush) or Howard the accountant (Gore) from running.

Think about it: Andy Griffith would be a great president. He's perfectly at ease and humble in a leadership role, and he's more than willing to share the credit when the credit is due. Look at what happened when those criminals flew into Mayberry disguised as a Hollywood production crew filming a movie about Mayberry. Oh sure, everybody was happy as a lark to have a big-time movie shot in their small North Carolina hamlet, but Andy knew the grifters' real reason for being in town was to rob the bank. Yet, in the end, Andy let Barney take all of the credit for capturing the faux-Hollywood crooks.

That's a politician.

I can see Andy at Camp David with Israel and the Palestine Liberation Organization. He'd discuss borders with Arafat and Barak over Aunt Bea's roast beef and cherry pie, then after dinner, they'd all three sit on the porch and sing some old-time spirituals.

Well, Barak might not sing some of the spirituals, but he'd tap his feet as any decent politician would.

By now, Gomer Pyle's military career would more than qualify him to be the Joint Chairman of the Chiefs of Staff, Colin Powell's old job. And, Opie, with that "aw-shucks" attitude of his father's, would be a fair and open-minded Attorney General.

Barney? Head of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, of course. And, Floyd? He could be our ambassador for the United Nations. They sit and nod a lot during important international summits, and you know, the sitting and nodding thing is right up Floyd's alley.

Now, for vice president, I think you would have to reach outside the Mayberry Mafia, for someone with a practical, no-nonsense, and seemingly non-partisan attitude. The only person with those qualities that I can immediately think of is Mike Brady. He's a family guy like Andy, he's very adept at problem solving, and his architectural background would come in handy if the White House would ever need renovations. Of course, if the opposition ever published old photos of Mike when he had the curly perm, then there might be a problem. Any guy who ever had a perm in his past would immediately be suspect because of his past sense of judgement.

And, Andy would definitely need to get over his aversion to commitment, and go ahead and marry Helen. Being a single president would have the gossips rabid with speculation about Andy's private life.

So, again, think about it...would you rather have Gore or Bush in the office when a terrorist group is stalking the country? Or, would you rather have Andy, standing in the Oval Office, one foot confidently poised up on his desk with the leg of his slacks hiked up over his other boot, using the hot-line to marshal the support of the allies.

"Uh, Sara, get me Prime Minister Blair over in England...Yes, Sara, I know what time it is over there..."

Rob Grace is the president of W.R.D. Entertainment. Feel free to e-mail him at, and check out his blog:

All Over the Map
by Rob Grace
December 9, 2009

A recent article by Dr. Arthur Agatston from Prevention magazine listed six surprising triggers of a heart attack.

Dr. Agatston noted that we are, for various reasons, vulnerable for an attack early in the morning; on Mondays; before or while giving a public speech; after a high fat, high carb meal; during unprepared exercise, such as shoveling snow; and while having, ahem, a bowel movement.

There's a joke somewhere involving the last trigger, but I'll surprise most of you by utilizing restraint.

Having a heart attack has always been a fear of mine, but that has not stopped me from being a lazy, fatty food-loving nervous wreck twenty-four/seven. In fact, after reading Dr. Agatston's article and wanting more things to worry about, I decided to do further research on heart attack triggers.

For instance, did you know that if you are a liberal, the mere sight of Glenn Beck can trigger a heart attack? If you're a conservative, the mere sight of Nancy Pelosi will possibly do the same. And if you're an independent and Glenn Beck and Nancy Pelosi decide to marry each other, your head will explode.

Opening a credit card statement can be a factor in a heart attack. Also, if you have a 14-year-old daughter, looking at the iTunes receipts in your e-mail each morning can give you cardiac arrest. How many Miley Cyrus songs can there be? Drop by my office, and I'll print out my iTunes receipts to show you.

It's interesting to note that there are further heart attack triggers that involve 14-year-old daughters. They include the moments when she rolls her eyes at you; the moments when she says "Duh," in response to something you've told her; and of course, teaching her how to drive. In fact, Congress is considering a law requiring defibrillators in all vehicles while a parent is teaching their 14-year-old daughter how to drive.

Speaking of Miley Cyrus, if you are over the age of 30, attending a concert by any of the following artists can cause a heart attack: the Jonas Brothers, Britney Spears, Justin Bieber, and of course, Miley Cyrus.

Conversely, if you are under the age of 30, attending a concert by any of these artists can cause a heart attack at a premature age: Celine Dion, Ray Price, the Oak Ridge Boys, Barry Manilow, and Englebert Humperdinck.

However, attending a Barbra Streisand concert can trigger a heart attack in any person of any age.

In Batesville, the act of driving on Harrison Street can cause a heart attack. In many Wal-Marts, being run over in the middle of the potato chip aisle by a large-person-who-can-obviously-walk-yet-still-insists-on-driving-one-of-those-scooters can cause a heart attack.

(Of course, there are many people who have to utilize these scooters because of a serious physical condition, but then there are those scooter-drivers who are just too lazy to push a shopping cart. And finally, there's me: a person who likes to ride the scooters from time to time because they're really, really fun!)

If you are a woman, seeing a tall, well-toned man in a Speedo can cause a heart attack. Cardiac arrest in women can also be triggered by seeing me in a Speedo driving around on one of those scooters at Wal-Mart.

Watching the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show on television can cause a man's heart to malfunction as can the thought of Joan Rivers in a thong.

And viewing the new Lady GaGa video of her song "Bad Romance" can trigger an attack in both men and women.

Finally, if one happens to be Tiger Woods, finding your wife standing over your bed at 2:00 a.m. brandishing a golf club in a threatening manner can cause a heart attack.

Oh, and, again, if you happen to be Tiger Woods and you take another look at your pre-nuptial agreement the next day, then that too can trigger a heart attack.

Rob Grace is the president of W.R.D. Entertainment. Feel free to e-mail him at, and check out his blog:

All Over the Map
by Rob Grace
December 2, 2009

I am upset.

I am so mad I could throw something. I could smash something expensive with a sledgehammer. I could scream really loud and hard until my face turns blood red.

I am not just upset. I am extremely upset -- which means that on an anger scale of 1 to 10, I'm hitting about an 11.

One thing I can tell you: this is not going to happen again next year. No way. No way. No way.

Next year, things are going to change. It's not going to be the same old, same old. Next year, it's going to be ME. I am not going to be made a fool of again and again. Next year, Rob Grace will get the phone call, not Johnny Depp.

That's right. Next year, I -- Rob Grace -- will be named The Sexiest Man Alive by People magazine.

I will not be overlooked again in this annual feature. I mean, my mom has always said I could be a movie star. Plus, my grandmother used to say that I always looked really handsome, particularly after I shaved.

Year after year, I submit fantastic photos of myself -- at my own expense -- to convince the blithering idiots at People that I really am The Sexiest Man Alive. These photo shoots are meant to convey all aspects of my multi-faceted personality -- a personality so multi-faceted because I have, you know, many facets, so therefore, there are many reasons why I appeal to the opposite sex because I am, as I noted, multi-faceted.

For instance, in the many photos I've submitted, there are examples of my multi-faceted life. There are the action shots where I might be playing badminton, throwing a Frisbee, or taking a power walk around the mall.

My involvement in the entertainment industry is represented by photos of me emceeing a beauty pageant featuring residents of a local nursing home; clogging in a recent Branson-themed extravaganza I produced for residents at another local nursing home; and performing my mime routine for residents at a nursing home in Camden.

And of course, I have the standard beefcake shots. There's a photo of myself emerging from an area pond after a swim. There's another photo of myself rubbing Crisco over my chest as I'm sunning at the municipal pool. And there's a spicy picture that catches me writing this column...topless.

One would think that after the editors at People saw all of those photos, they would be beating down my door. What are they smoking up there in New York City?

And Johnny Depp? He's already been The Sexiest Man Alive once. Aren't there rules that prohibit that? Shouldn't authorities investigate?

By the way, what's so special about Johnny Depp? He's washed his hair maybe once in the past six months, and the last decent acting job he had was on 21 Jump Street. I bet his mom owns People or something. Or maybe Johnny Depp owns People.

He's no big thing. I bet I could take him if I sucker-punched him while he was asleep and then I ran away real fast.

He's probably 4 feet. He probably has lifts in his shoes.

I bet he's a sissy, plays with Barbies, and wears frilly pink skirts when he's alone in his house.

And get this: I may have prematurely gray hair, but I'm actually three years younger than Johnny Depp. He was born in 1963! When did they start naming AARP members as The Sexiest Man Alive? Before you know it, he's going to be sitting in his recliner, staring slack-jawed at The Lawrence Welk Show, and cursing the swift and cruel passing of the years.

Johnny Depp -- I scoff at your name, you stupidface. People magazine -- I use your pages to blow my nose and wipe my underarm perspiration, you rag.

Rob Grace is The Sexiest Man Alive.

2010 is just around the corner, and if my mug ain't on next year's Sexiest Man Alive cover, I'm personally going to New York City, find the editor of People and sucker-punch him.

If he's asleep, of course.

Rob Grace is the president of W.R.D. Entertainment. Feel free to e-mail him at, and check out his blog:



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