No wonder your food tastes funny. There's radiation in that spiffy new granite countertop!
There's been a bit of an uproar surrounding the recent spate of stories about this, but the latest word from experts is that there is little health risk to consumers.
Now, eating that fried peanut butter and banana sandwich might kill ya.
Our beloved Bailey's BBQ, which is a stone's throw from the Star-T's offices downtown, is the ultimate comfort lunch. Their daily special for $4.75 (sandwich, chips and a drink) is the best bargain in town.
Except now it's 5 bucks. This is an economic indicator of recession if I've ever seen one.
This doesn't mean people won't keep lining up for delicious barbecue, (they did Thursday), but it does mean that 25-cent tip some customers toss into the jar is a goner. Of course you could always add 
a Twinkie for 35 cents, and give the hard-working ladies behind the counter the rest. That's what John McCain would do.
(Hey, did anyone get the WKRP reference to Bailey Quarters in the headline?)
For those of us who can't read enough about fabulously overpriced deli meats, we've got more details on the $180 per pound ham at Central Market.
Last week, we got a taste. But this week, our resident food czarina, Amy Culbertson, gives us the details on why a pound of those piggies cost more than a night with a stranger at the Embassy Suites.
John McCain today chose former SNL funnywoman Tina Fey as his vice presidential running-mate.
Tortillas. Windows. Tree trunks. Cheetos.
Images of Jesus have been found in many places. Add the wings of a moth to the list.
Kirk Harper, an RV shop owner in Pittsburgh, Texas, spotted the large moth on a RV trailer and took it took his pastor. Harper told television station KLTV that he "immediately thought it looked like jesus."
Here's the video report, so see what you think.
Chocoholics may want to grab a seat for this news: Hershey's is screwing with your chocolate.
According to the Wall Street Journal, the chocolate maker is one of several food companies looking for "creative ways" to cut costs to combat rising commodities prices.
Which sounds like gibberish, I know. Bottom line? Hershey's is substituting vegetable oil for part of the cocoa butter in its chocolate. (Have they not heard the story of New Coke!) So when you bite into your 4:30 vending machine fix and it tastes like a salad, you know who to call.
Hershey's isn't the only company fudging its formula. Pillsbury is replacing pecans with walnuts in their Turtle cookies. Et tu, Dough Boy?
Now, I know this makes no sense, but I'll pay $9 for a sliver of $180 per pound ham and smile about it, but mess with my 65-cent candy bar and we've got some serious problems.
If you didn't already know (and shame on you if you didn't), this is National Bowling Week. It started Saturday, the day before my birthday, and it continues through this Saturday, when bowlers throughout America will attempt to set a record for the most single games bowled in
a day.
I kicked off NBW at Cowtown Lanes on Saturday. My family and friends took me out for my birthday, and I was feted with some awesome bowling paraphernalia, including a clock with pins and a replica of The Dude's bowling shirt from The Big Lebowski. I also received a guilty pleasures handbook -- something I know a thing or two about -- and an "I Don't Roll on Shabbos" T-shirt.
In other words, it was a perfect day.
But the fun doesn't have to stop there. Don't forget to do your part on Saturday to set a record. You'll even get a nifty certificate, and a place in bowling history.
I've always said people are shallow. Myself included. In fact, there are times I embrace that notion. But the employee hotness meter at Abercrombie & Fitch takes things to a whole new level.
I was reading the story this morning with my mouth hanging open, which probably disqualifies me from ever working at the North Park store. That, and age and my balding head and my pear-shaped body and whatever other imperfections the secret shoppers might deem unattractive.
A&F may not be the only business that rates potential employees on looks (have you ever seen an ugly waitress at 8.0?), it's just the most blatant about it. In a sea of shallowness, they make the tiniest splash.
This dessert for 25 grand makes the $180-per-pound ham at Central Market look like a bargain.
Question: Does anyone other than the guy making this dessert actually buy it? Same goes for the $1,000 pizza. Or the $120 sandwich.
Oh, wait, these people probably do. They prefer to eat dinner in the sky.
The .97 cent can of creamed corn I opened for dinner tonight looks pretty pathetic now.
America's Team is not making any friends among America's Tailgaters with its new unAmerican Parking Policy.
The rules limit tailgaters to the confines of the one parking space they've paid way too much for in the first place. If you've ever tailgated, you know it's next to impossible to cook a legitimate brat in such cramped quarters.
The Cowboys say they're simply following what other NFL teams have done, to which I say, "If Danny Azarito jumped off a bridge, 
would you?" (OK, that's what my mom would say, but you get the idea.)
Would it kill the Cowboys to be more fan friendly? They're already one of the most valued franchises in all of sports, and they've got an even higher-priced stadium coming next year.
C'mon, Jerry, give the proud tailgaters some room to grill and gulp.
One of our intrepid features editors, Stephanie Allmon, just came bounding into the Star-Telegram online offices straight from Central Market, clutching .05 pounds of $180.00 per pound ham. 
Yes, you read that correctly. You would need to buy $45 worth of this stuff just to make a ham-and-cheese sandwich. Don't even get me started on how much money you'd need to make ham and eggs tomorrow morning.
(For the record: Stephanie’s haul of a half-dozen exceedingly tiny and thin cut slices cost $9.)
Here’s a picture of Stephanie and I waging war over a sliver – at prices this high, you gotta fight for your right to eat:
The ham, which hails from Spain, is called Jamon Iberico de Bellota, which is a fancy way of saying ham that’s been made from acorn-fed pigs – and this is the first time it’s available in the United States. (Long story short: It took awhile for the U.S.D.A. to sign off on slaughterhouses where the ham is manufactured for export.)
According to the Boston Globe, the pigs are played Mozart music as they head off to piggie heaven. Which, come to think of it, is probably better than playing I Touch Myself as sung by Miss Piggy to Johnny Cash. (see below)
So, the $180.00 question: How does the overpriced ham taste?
I personally gobbled up about $8.50 of our $9 share. It has the texture and 
saltiness of proscuitto, but tastes much richer and nuttier.
Our fearless online leader Cody, however, had a much more pithy response: “Is that stuff cooked?” he asked, and then twisted his face into a mask of revulsion that made the rest of us in the room reach for a trash pail into which he might wretch.
We would say get it while it lasts, but at $180, we can’t imagine there will be a run el puerco.
Bonus snob factor: According to Jeff Mendenhall at Central Market, the Fort Worth location is one of only a handful of locations in the entire United States where you’ll be able to buy Jamon Iberico de Bellota. Impress your friends! Empty your bank account!
And now a word from our favorite pig.... -- Christopher Kelly
I was strolling back to the office today when I noticed this sign (I'm so handy 
with the cell phone camera, aren't I?).
Simply Fondue has staked its claim in Sundance Square, right next to the Scat Jazz Lounge. (Hope they don't have any plans to have Girls Gone Wild parties.)
The fondue chain, which has locations in Dallas and Arlington, was rumored to be setting up shop as early as October of last year, but I'm hoping now that they've put up the sign and gotten me salivating for some dipped chocolate strawberries and marshmallows, they'll at least have the decency to open before the end of the year. I've got an e-mail out to someone with Simply Fondue, but if someone out there knows a firm date, please let me know so I can stop daydreaming of drippy goodness.
Update: A helpful colleague says its likely to open in October. I'll be there opening night.
If you read Aman Batheja's story today about why the Girls Gone Wild bus was banished from downtown, you know it wasn't Mr. Mayor, but Mr. Sundance ... Square who sent the sin wagon packing.
Taken at face value, the official explanation seems legit. But it's hard to believe morality didn't play some role in the decision to "ask" City Streets to shut things down. Right? If that was, say, a Golden Girls Gone Wild bus parked outside Barnes & Noble, methinks Mr. Sundance would have been the first one posing for pictures.
It's in the best interest of City Streets to be a good neighbor, and swallow the short-term loss on what would have been a packed house Thursday night. But the whole thing does feel a little Big Brother-ish. And for anyone who has spent much time at City Streets, it has the potential to turn into a GGW party without the benefit of the bus.
A few of those shots in test tubes, and even I start unbuttoning my bowling shirt.
Word out of the west side of Fort Worth is that Duce – the much-ballyhooed restaurant that Tim Love opened in 2006, but that never seemed to find its footing – has officially been transformed into Fuego.
Love sold the place in April to restaurateur Efrain Benitez, who previous helped developed a chain of restaurants in Chicago. It's taken Benitez a few months to erase all traces of Love from the place.
Between his New York version of Lonesome Dove opening to disastrous reviews in fall 2006 (and closing the following spring), and the sale of Duce, it hasn't been an easy couple of years for Love.;
But his Web site promises a Sept. 1 appearance on Good Morning America, so maybe things will soon be looking up. -- Christopher Kelly
Be careful where you walk during lunch downtown. You might just run into a Girls Gone Wild bus.
Plastered with pics of sexy coeds contemplating unspeakable things, the bus was parked in front of Barnes and Noble at about 11:30 a.m. today.
According to some nice gentleman aboard the Wild wagon, they were scheduled to have a party at City Streets tonight. But "The City" told them to pack up and get out of downtown.
I tried to get more details, but the GGW wranglers were on their way to find an alternate locale, most likely a gentleman's club.
City Streets is advertising a bikini contest tonight on its web site, but that could just be a coincidence, right?
I'm not sure who actually pulled the plug on the party. (Actual reporters are checking into that.) And I'm not a fan of Girls Gone Wild, its demeaning brand of debau
chery, or its creator. But this is America, and it was a curious site to see in broad daylight on a Thursday in Cowtown.
As your faithful Kingpin, I was obliged to investigate. ... At least that's what I'll be telling my wife.
p.s. When I asked one of the GGW wranglers how he got into his line of work, he shot back: Journalism degree.
UPDATE: City spokesman Jason Lamers says neither the mayor nor the city was aware of, or had anything to do with the bus being shipped out of downtown. But crack reporter Aman Batheja has learned that Sundance Square was the "city" that put the kibosh on the Girls Gone Wild party.
He hasn't lived here long, but country star Pat Green has quickly become one of Fort Worth's favorite sons. And it's just this type of goofy incident that endears him to the fine folks of Cowtown.
Over the weekend, Green was deep into his set at Michigan International Speedway when he called out from the stage, "Anyone got a beer?" If you've seen Pat perform at Billy Bob's or belly up to the bars at Colonial, you know this good 'ol boy likes his cocktails. But what happened next at the NASCAR race in Michigan probably stunned even Party Boy Pat.
First, one adoring fan tossed a can of beer. Then another, and another. One hit Green right in his big, blond coconut, knocking him unconscious and ending the show.
It may not be the most embarrassing thing he's done on stage, but it's close. (Is that Frosty the Cold One?)
One great thing about having a blog is you can keep re-using old crap and try to make it seem new. (Did I just actually write that?)
Considering its raining buckets out there this afternoon, I bring you a reprise of my countdown of Top 20 Rain Songs of All Time (first authored during the 2007 Colonial monsoon.)
20) Here Comes the Rain Again -- Eurythmics
19) Blame It on the Rain -- Milli Vanilli
18) Kentucky Rain -- Elvis (in honor of two-time champ Kenny Perry).
17) Ain't No Sunshine -- Bill Withers
16) Blue Eyes Cryin' in the Rain -- Hank Williams
15) Laughter in the Rain -- Neil Sedaka
16) I Love a Rainy Night -- Eddie Rabbit
15) I Wish it Would Rain -- The Temptations
14) The Early Morning Rain -- Gordon Lightfoot
13) Rainy Night in Georgia -- Randy Crawford
12) It's Raining Men -- The Weathergirls
11) It's Raining Again -- Supertramp
10) Singing in the Rain -- Gene Kelly
9) Riders on the Storm -- The Doors
8) It Never Rains in Southern California (but, man, it pours in Fort Worth) -- Albert Hammond
7) Mandolin Rain -- Bruce Hornsby
6) Rainy Days and Mondays -- The Carpenters
5) Love, Reign, O'er Me -- The Who (OK, I admit it, I alway thought they were singin' about rain.)
4) Rain, Rain Go Away -- Kids everywhere
3) Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head -- B.J. Thomas
2) Purple Rain -- Prince
1) Who'll Stop the Rain -- Creedence Clearwater Revival (in honor of The Dude.)
I once had a boss tell me that anything worth doing is worth overdoing. I guess that mantra has gotten around, because people are telling some real whoppers on their resumes these days.
Check out the Top 10 lies told by job seekers.
And consider it a cautionary tale. If, on your resume, you claim to be a Hispanic Kennedy and the CEO of the wildly successful firm of Dewey Cheatem & Howe, chances are you're gonna get caught ... or elected president.
Here's one way to ride out the storm in Key West.
Might as well catch dinner, right?
The goofy actor/comedian has a grin on his face the whole way down. Watch it here.
Big surprise, right? Oh, well, it was fun while it lasted.
And how exactly do we know what the DNA of a big foot would look like? So many questions.
My surreal weekend included a visit to the recently reopened IMAX theater at the Fort Worth Science and History Museum. Dog agility trials and fun with hunters.
It seems the people of Fort Worth have rediscovered their love of IMAX movies, because the place was packed. The line for Deep Sea was six deep. (It is narrated by Johnny Depp and Kate Winslet.)
But what made the whole scene more crazy was that The Texas Trophy Hunter's Extravaganza was continuing at the exhibits hall at Will Rogers. Between the dust blowing from the museum's construction site, and giant pickups covered in mud parking sideways in the IMAX parking lot, we felt like we were trapped in a game of Frogger.
I had to go watch the golden retriever agility trials in another part of Will Rogers just to calm down.
Then again, I could have gone to a Rangers game and taken a bat to the chin, like this poor guy did Sunday. I guess everything's relative.
Another piece of downtown's past is being dismantled today and tossed upon the scrap heap of history. Crews are tearing down the AMC Sundance 11 movie theater.
Ah, I remember the time I was watching Music and Lyrics there and the screen went black and it took me 20 minutes to get the attention of an usher or manager. Good times.
Who am I kidding? This isn't a huge cultural loss for the city. And it's not like there isn't another theater three blocks away -- The AMC Palace -- but the Sundance 11 was a vital part of making downtown what it is today. Kinda like the Caravan of Dreams, may it rest in peace.
Oh, well, at least we've got the Omni Hotel going up near the convention center and with the Norris Conference Centers taking the place of the Sundance 11, it'll be one neverending party downtown.
I've heard from my spies out in the field that shoppers aren't rushing out to save $4.17 on their purchases for the big TAX-FREE WEEKEND. It was darn near empty at the Parks Mall in Arlington before lunch today.
I suspected as much.
As this story points out, you've gotta buy way too much stuff to make it worth your while.
When they start offering tax-free weekends for iPhones and cars, call me.
This is a fairly persuasive photo of an alleged Big Foot capture. ... Or it could be the gorilla suit Jim Belushi wore in Trading Places. (Can you believe that movie opened 25 years ago!)
Either way, this new Big Foot makes for some entertaining possibilities on a slow news day in the Metroplex. Whaddya think? Have these dudes bagged a real Sasquatch? On their web site (which was blinky Friday morning because of all the traffic), the Big Foot trackers say their creature is 7 foot, 7 inches tall, weighs 500 pounds and is covered in a thick matt of reddish hair.
Kinda like Jim Belushi.
The circus is in town, which means coulrophobics won't sleep a wink until Ringli
ng, his brothers and all their clown friends climb into a tiny car and get the heck out of dodge.
For the foolishly rational among you, coulrophobia is the term for an abnormal fear of clowns. And the mere fact that a term like this exists illustrates just how clown-hating has gotten out of hand.
We here at Kingpin headquarters aren’t afraid of no clowns. Now is the time to face your face-painted fears and vote for the clown that scares you most. (Don't call us when you have nightmares.)
Below you'll find a selection of the good, the bad and the truly scare clowns who, in their own ways, have contributed to the spread of coulrophobia.
THE GOOD
Clarabell: Howdy Doody's horn-honking best good friend was originally played by Bob Keeshan, the one and only Captain Kangaroo. Who could possibly be afraid of him? OK, Mr Green Jeans, we get that.
Emmett Kelly: His sad clown "Weary Willie" inspired decades of clowns, like Red Skelton and David Shwimmer.
Bozo the Clown: His hair alone is worthy of our undying admiration. RIP, Bozo.
Ronald McDonald: Think of all he's done for charity, and the McRib!
Jo Jo: She's the nicest and cutest clown I've ever seen. (My wife, made me write that.) Watch Jo Jo and her pet lion on The Disney Channel.
THE BAD
Shakes the Clown: Bobcat Goldthwait's movie about a drunken womanizer gave clowns -- and acting -- a bad name.
Homey the Clown: Damon Wayans was pretty funny as the cranky birthday party clown on In Living Color. His catchphrase, Homey Don't Play That, seems ironic now that Wayans can't get work anywhere.
Krusty the Clown: Bart and Lisa's favorite TV pitchman 
on The Simpsons has a long rap sheet. He's been arrested for armed robbery (though he claims he was framed by a sidekick).
Bubbles the Clown: The BBC puppet clown appeared on TV for years, apparently creeping out the entire country of England.
Eric the Clown: Played by Jon Favreau in a memorable episode of Seinfeld, he made the cardinal sin (in George's eyes) of not knowing who Bozo was.
THE TRULY SCARY
John Wayne Gacy: OK, he's a serial killer. I'll give the coulrophobes that one.
The Joker: Heath Ledger's dastardly turn in The Dark Knight made Jack Nicholson look like an alter boy -- and that's not easy to do.
Insane Clown Posse: The outlandish hip-hop group 
became notorious for its clown makeup and violent tendencies -- the lead singer once clocked an audience member 30 times with his microphone.
Killer Clowns from Outer Space: 'Nuff said.
Pennywise: Leave it to horror master Stephen King to set the clowning biz back decades with this truly horrifying stalker who lived in the sewer. What a Bozo!
Forget the Olympics and Project Runway, the best entertainment out there at the moment is the Victoria Osteen first-class air rage trial.
If you haven't been following, allow me to catch you up: Continental flight attendant Sharon Brown is suing the wife of famed pastor Joel Osteen, who, BTW, has more money than god. Brown seems to know this, as she is seeking 10 percent of Victoria Osteen's net worth because Vicki allegedly got peeved about a spill on the armrest of her first-class seat, and, allegedly, threw a first-class temper tantrum, eventually shoving Brown against the first-class bathroom door and elbowing Brown in her first-class left breast.
Allegedly.
It's amazing that this trial has lasted more than 10 minutes, much less 3 days and counting. But I think the judge must be endlessly entertained. Yesterday, Brown admitted that she once referred to the honorable pastor Osteen as "the devil." And Vicki isn't coming out of this smelling like a rose, either.
All I know is it's fun checking in on this story every day. I'll be sorry to see it end.
Michael Phelps has got nothing on this girl.
And this is a two-year-old video. Since then, a kid named Steven Purugganan has done it two seconds faster.
You've heard all about people seeing Jesus in a rock, well, how's this for a miracle: Check out the finely-toned tush taking shape in my friend, Heather's, fridge.
(I always knew The Pillsbury Doughboy was a porn freak.)
She was bringing home groceries in 100-plus heat recently and her package of pizza dough exploded. This is the result ... a piece of puff art she affectionately calls "Dough Butt, No. 23."
BTW, if you want to make the Pillsbury Doughboy dance like a stripper, click here.
This just in from dining diva/restaurant reviewer extraordinaire June Naylor:
"Donnatella Trotti, owner of Nonna Tata, is acquiring the Blue Bird in Como for another restaurant."
Nonna Tata is the tiny Italian oasis on Magnolia Ave. in Fort Worth whose authentic dishes and cozy ambience has inspired a loyal following.
"She has proven to be brilliant, so maybe it's gonna be fabulous," June says of Donnatella's new venture.
And speaking of great food, I made my semi-annual sojourn to The Keg for a baseball sirloin, and I defy anyone to tell me there's a better steak out there for under 20 bucks ... and that includes a nice, tangy caesar salad, veggies and twice-baked potato.
This is so sad. I will miss Bernie Mac. His TV show may have been the last original sitcom on TV.
And he was a true original. RIP, Mr. Mac.
Strolling through downtown this morning I noticed a new (to me) sign in a store window on Main Street, between 7th and 8th, next to Ruth's Chris. Coming soon: Starbucks!
Starbucks is wonderful, but I'm not without thoughts, disguised as questions:
1. Why are new locations opening after hundreds closed?
2. Why another Starbucks downtown, where there is already one in Sundance Square, as well as a Starbucks stepchild inside B&N, plus one in the works for the Omni mega-residence on Throckmorton? (I like to think in run-on sentence fragments sometimes.)
3. What about poor Four Star Coffee Bar, which is a block over on Houston? They already closed their longtime (since 1995!) location on 7th Street (west of downtown). Will Starbucks lure customers away from, and subsequently crush, the local guy, who just wants to make folks a latte and a scone?!
Perhaps not, because Four Star has a secret weapon -- pizza.
-- John Metz
If you don't. You really should. Watch below.
Check out this video from my gal Heather Svokos, who had the good sense to capture the natural beauty of a mother cow caring for her calf minutes after his birth on a dairy farm in Plano.
She said many a motorist pulled over to watch. Apparently, it was the first-ever siting of natural beauty in Plano. ...
Oh, c'mon. ... I'm kidding.
BTW, did anyone but me get the Mama, Calf reference in the video description?
It's lonely here in my own little world.
I know, that headline sounds like the beginning of a joke. That one time, at cheerleading camp ...
But this is actually true. For some reason, 26 girls at cheerleading camp at the UT campus decided to cram into an elevator and guess what, it got stuck.
The ordeal lasted for 30 minutes, and a few of the cheerleaders felt faint, others called on cell phones for help. But one really tough head cheerleader just kept yelling, Bring It On!! until she passed out.
By all means, feel free to add your own cheerleaders stuck in an elevator jokes below.
First, we hosted the Methodists in May. Then, for six weekends beginning in June, the Jehovah's Witnesses camped out at the Fort Worth Convention Center. And this week, we've got Kenneth Copeland Ministries and his merry band of born-agains.
(Toss in the Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus concert in November, and FWCC has cornered the market on fanatical faith-based organizations.)
Having a good ol' fashioned revival downtown makes for some delicious ironies, like when you go for an iced chai tea at Starbucks -- and get a free shot of witnessing from fresh-faced teeny-biblers.
At the Fox and Hound, evangelinas are invited to toss back a few Negra Modelos over bible verses and Brett Favre chatter.
And my favorite fun fact is that one of the guest gurus at this week's Southwest Believer's Convention is named Creflo Dollar, as in you better hold onto yours or he will Creflo them right into his Rolls Royce.
It's a heavenly ride.
