The Kingpins of Cowtown

Who needs a dog that glows in the dark?

Gene geeks, that's who. (Not geeks named "Gene." Geneticists.)

In case the news escaped you, scientists in South Korea claim to have cloned four Beagles that glow red in the dark. (That's one of the pups at right.) They say it could help them develop cures for human diseases. Sure it's a useful technique, but you wonder how much of it is science geeks thinking it's cool to see an animal glow in the dark. (You must admit ...) AP has some video.

This isn't the first time a fluorescent creature has been cloned -- other South Korean researchers cloned three glowing Turkish Angola kittens in 2007. Our friends at Texas A&M created the first cloned cat, Copy Cat, in 2002. But that's another story.

My first dog, Skipper, was a beagle. And even though he wisely ran away from home first chance he got, I still have a soft spot in my heart for beagles. So maybe that's why a glowing beagle is a bit freakish to me. 'Course that fluorescent green cat was very weird.

What's your take?

-- T-Bone

Denny's Grand Slam day

At the Dennys on Western Center Boulevard, the line spilled into the patio even at 2 p.m.

Meanwhile, at the Denny’s at I-20 and Hulen St., the line was wrapped around the building at lunch time. Watch John Metz's video here.

And early morning discussion about Denny’s was all the rage at the 24 Hour Fitness in Bedford – as more than a dozen or so spin class enthusiasts at the gym talked about the crowds at Denny’s on Industrial Boulevard at Highway 183.

Some folks in class said they had friends go as early as 5 a.m. for the Grand Slam breakfast and took their small children. One spin class enthusiast said he had gone to the breakfast at one Denny’s and would travel for more free food to another Denny’s for lunch -- after his 8 a.m. spin class in Bedford.

A taste of Vienna in Plano

Had a lovely day in Plano on Saturday (that's not a sentence you get to type very often.). We met friends at the Plano Super Bowl, one of the few 24-hour bowling centers left in this country.

And after our share of strikes and spares, we had lunch in historic downtown Plano at Jörg’s Cafe Vienna. (Be warned, if you click on the link you will hear accordian music.)

I had the schnitzel with the Hungarian paprika creme sauce, and it was wonderful. Not too heavy and seasoned to perfection. The smoked bratwurst sandwich in pretzel bread earned raves as well.

For dessert, I snagged a taste of the Apfel Strudel and wished I'd ordered one just for me. There's always next time, right?

There isn't a lot of authentic German or Austrian food in the western half of DFW, so that makes Jorge's definitely worth the trip to downtown Plano, which also has a nice little park with ponds and the Interurban Railway Museum, which features a restored train car from the early 1900s. My 4-year-old was wide-eyed during the free tour. Check it out.

In defense of Jerry Jones

I'm no fan of the Dallas Cowboys' owner, who, like the Steinbrenners, tries to buy championships. But I give him a lot of credit for sticking with Coach Wade Phillips. As a lifelong sports fan, I am fed up with the bloodthirsty mentality of media, fans and management that dictates heads must roll immediately (if not sooner) when things don't go your team's way.

It's childish, really.

And the blame game in the NFL is out of control. So is the hype machine. 

The Cowboys just weren't that good. Neither were a lot of other teams. They had injuries. They had unrealistic expectations (Super Bowl or Bust! Will they go 16-0?) They failed.

It happens.

Raging Rudolph

Funny, this is not how I remember the holiday classic. But it's funny.

Hanukkah, oh Hanukkah

Now here's the perfect way to celebrate the first night of Hanukkah -- on the lanes with a bowling pin menorah. 

 

Mark Cuban gets Simpsonized, at it's pretty hilarious

Dallas Mavericks owner and veteran of Dancing With the Stars Mark Cuban added another notch to his pop culture belt on Sunday when he appeared on The Simpsons.

Mr. Burns tries to take billionaire tips from Crazy Uncle Cube, but it backfires, literally, and a man dressed in a gorilla suit pays with his life.

It's funny. Trust me. You can watch part of the episode below. And see more clips here.

In defense of Elisha Cuthbert

I love sports, but I hate sports starswho think, by virtue of playing football or hockey or jai-alai better than 90 percent of the population, they have the right to be a rotten human being.

Guess what? You don't, Sean Avery.

And while the NHL has suspended the Dallas Stars left wingerand leading misogynist for his crude remarks, I feel the need to do some high-sticking up for my bowling bud Elisha Cuthbert.

That's right, I went bowling with Cuthbert for a column back in August 2006, and she could not have been any cooler. We bowled two games and, despite all the drooling press she gets in men's mags, she is very down to earth and a genuine sports fan. She used to blog for the NHL, and her brother and mom played hockey when she was growing up in Canada.

Elisha was a volleyball player -- too small for hockey. And, I might add, she's a decent bowler -- as you can see from the photos.

More importantly, she's a decent human being who deserves more respect from an ex.

The most vile part of Avery's comments is that they were calculated. Nobody asked him about Elisha. He waited till cameras were rolling to call her "sloppy seconds," a disgusting way of referring to anyone, much less a woman he once supposedly cared about. And all because she is now datingCalgary Flames defenseman Dion Phaneuf. Sounds like wittle, bitty Sean is jealous.

Oh, go dump some of your $15 million contract on therapy. Or call Dr. Phil.

The other unfortunate thing about this story, which has attracted more attention to hockey in two days than all the action on the ice has in two years, is that it gives yahoo bloggers license to brand Cuthbert as a "hockey hag" and crack jokes about her "stickhandling."

And to that I say: Mean people suck, and so does Sean Avery for starting this.

Good thing the Elisha Cuthbert I met is tough enough and classy enough to ignore it all.

The anatomy of a White Russian

For those of us who live our lives according to tenets of The Big Lebowski, it's gratifying to see The Dude's beverage of choice, the White Russian, getting the full-bodied thumbsucker treatment by the New York Times.

This eggheady analysis is wonderful, chronicling the rise and fall and rise again of The Caucasian. I particularly love the quotes from Esquire Magazine's "drink correspondent." (We've got one of those here, too. He's called Billy the Boozer.)

But the article is further proof that The Big Lebowski is, in the parlance of our times, a metaphor for all that is good and pure.

Next up, 60 Minutes reveals The Stranger's favorite sasparilla! 

RIP, Zima

Like Dudley Moore and the Backstreet Boys, Zima had its moment in the spotlight. Back in the '90s, the clear malt liquor in the come hither bottle was all the rage in the clubs.

Its popularity lasted about as long as the Macarena, and tasted just as bad.

But contrary to popular belief, Zima did not go away and die a much-deserved death ... until last month. Miller finally pulled the plug on its "malternative," to which I say farewell sugary sweet drink.

We hardly had a chance to thank ye for Mike's Hard Lemonade.

Sarah Palin's turkey pardon gets bloody

Bless her heart, Sarah Palin keeps making news for all the wrong reasons. Apparently, during a stop at an Alaska turkey farm to pardon one lucky clucker for Thanksgiving, a less fortunate bird can be seen in the background struggling for its last breaths. Below is a tame version of the video from the Anchorage Daily News. But for those who like a little more gore with their holidays, here's the You Tube version that's generating quite a bit of buzz, or is that gobble, gobble.

One editorial comment: As someone who has shot video for our web site, I think the camera person for KTUU could have framed the shot differently so we didn't have to see the bird bloodbath. I'm no fan of Sarah Palin's rants against the media, but this slaughterhouse video just gives her ammunition.

Bottoms up, DFW: A look at the most liquored up establishments

Ever wonder just how many longnecks get sucked down at Billy Bob's in a month? Or Bloody Mary's at the House of Blues? Well, here's a nifty little gadget you can use to check the liquor receipts of some of your favorite DFW watering holes.

For example: Aqua Lounge in downtown FW paid just over $10,000 in taxes in August. City Streets nearly $22,000. (Must be all those suggestive sounding shots served in test tubes.) The Library, a whopping $28,000 (some serious TCU drinkers in there.) Pour House, $23,000.

Billy Bob's: How about $47,460? That's a lot of hooch. But guess who isn't far behind? Joe T. Garcia's, $43,194. Killer margaritas = big moola!

Not surprisingly, strip joints do pretty well, too. New Orleans Nights, $27,841. Baby Dolls, $36,320. Not that I'd know about those sort of places.

In Big D, Escapade 2001 on Finnell St. is far and away on top with $89,380 just for the month of August.

House of Blues and Ghostbar come in at around $50,000 each. Dragonfly at Hotel ZaZa, $43,000. Station 4, $40,900. Purgatory, $36,000. Capitol Pub, $24,000. Gilleys of Dallas, $47,643 (just a couple hundred more than Billy Bob's).

The Dallas Gentlemen's Club, $43,200.

But enough of my discoveries. Search for yourself. It's fun peeking at their books.

Own a piece of Cowboys history

The starting bid on urinals from Texas Stadium is $300. But what I really want it the Cowboys Helmet golf cart. Anybody got $6,000 they can loan me?

A day that will live in Kimbell history

On Tuesday, Fort Worth's beloved Kimbell Art Museum will announce its plans for expansion -- a second building designed by famed architect Renzo Piano (Nasher Sculpture Center) will nearly double the size of the world's best small museum.

I guess it was inevitable. The Kimbell has been a good neighbor, and stood by applauding as the Amon Carter expanded and the Modern constructed its architectural masterpiece to the east.

Now it's the Kimbell's turn, though I can't help feel like by getting bigger, the Kimbell will lose some of its inherent charm. Hope I'm wrong about that.

Details of the expansion will be released Tuesday, and the big question among dog walkers and Frisbee football players is where will the new building go? On their beloved greenspace to the west of the original Louis Kahn building? Or to east side, in a parking lot between the Kimbell and the Modern.

Dunno, but I'd say Frisbee footballers better prepare for the worst. Look for details tomorrow.

'God wants us to have sex, honey!'

Married men everywhere have a new hero this morning -- one who'll probably never appear on SportCenter.

He's Ed Young, senior pastor at Fellowship Church in Grapevine, who is suggesting that married couples have sex every day for a week ... which would bring their grand total to 10 for the year?!?

Young's nudge toward nookie was part of his Sunday sermon, Seven Days of Sex. But Young, who seems horny for this topic, preaches about sex regularly. Check out his Sexual Revolution DVD with a personal study guide.

The story is getting plenty of attention on our site, and I bet guys are cutting it out to present to their wives tonight. When she says, I've got a headache; they'll say: I'm on a mission from God.

Whatever it takes to get people in the pews ... and papa a little piece, right?

John Angeles: We knew him when

I don't want to brag about my ability to spot talent ... but I will.

John Angeles, the super-talented tap dancer/drummer, was on our radar screen nearly two year ago. And we couldn't be any happier for him as he's finally getting the recognition he deserves.

He's in the current cast of Stomp, performing in town again tonight. Check it out. And check out the video we did way back when. Needless to say, he doesn't have to work at Best Buy any more.

Bowling ball stops bullet from striking teen

Told ya bowling could save your life.

Here's mud in your eye, and mouth and ....

You know you’re in trouble when the best part of your vacation is spent on your hands and knees, crawling through a giant, gloppy pit of mud.

No, I did not go exploring the rainforests of South America. Or spend a week in basic training.

Instead, I slogged my way through an adventure race called The Muddy Buddy.

My “Buddy” was cousin Joe, a dyed-in-the-wool Chicago sports fan and jock who e-mailed me back in August to say he’d love to bring the family for a visit, and, hey, while he’s in town, we could run and ride bikes in this lil’ ’ol race with a harmless name.

It’d be fun, he said. We’d bond, he said.

And besides, I was the only person in our family remotely in good enough shape to survive it. (Not high praise, mind you. We’re more iron-deficient than iron men in our family.)

But how could I say no?

And this is how Cousin Joe became Joe the Torturer.

Countdown to hilarity

This is Ben Affleck's best performance since Good Will Hunting.

Chasing perfection can be deadly

When I was on vacation last week, I had the pleasure of bowling (as a celebrity?!?) in the Sam Hornisch Jr. classic, put on by Texas Motor Speedway charities. I got to roll a couple of games and knock back a few beers with some nice folks -- and one particuarly competitive lady (Linda Daymude) who broke a nail, but fought through the pain to finish with a 136. Brave soul.

But I bowled like crap. Two games in the 160s, both of which made me realize that I'm only a good bowler in my mind. Everywhere else, I'm a middle-aged man who has lost his mojo.

Deep depression was about to sink in, and then I came across a couple of stories that made me think, hey, things could be a whole lot worse.

First, consider the bowling coach who rolled a 299. (On his final shot, he threw a perfect ball and left the 10 pin.) No shame in that.

But he does have to live with the fact that both his sons have already bowled 300s.

At least he's living.

What about this poor man, who bowled a 300 game -- and promptly dropped dead?!?

Mediocre bowling is just fine with me, thank you.

Newspapers: We're not dead yet

People have been awfully quick to pronounce newspapers DOA. But to steal a line from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, we suggest that "we're not dead yet ... we're getting better. ... we feel happy!"

That's because this morning we received an unsolicited photo from Grapevine readers David and Debbie Simon of their three children (from left) Skyler, Kirby and Reilly perusing the Star-Telegram at the breakfast table.

Says Debbie in an e-mail to her folks: I don't think there is any photo of the kids that could make me more proud! Unprompted, they are all sitting there reading the newspaper at breakfast!

David forwarded the photo and suggests that Skyler, Kirby and Reilly are part of "the next generation of newspaper junkies."

We can only hope. Thank you, Simons, for sharing a slice of your life ... and making our day!

Hap-hap-happy news! You can win big bucks

I'm just back from a week's vacation, which made me quite happy.

But I'm freakin' ecstatic to tell you about a chance to win some serious cash -- just for being happy. Don't delay. Send in your entry in our Get Happy Sweepstakes, and you could win some serious cash.

It's a tie-in with the uber-cute new film Happy Go-Lucky, but in these sometimes bleak times, we want to hear from the hap-hap-happy people out there, if only to bring some joy into our miserable lives.

Star Wars bowling balls

I'm barely a fan of Star Wars, but these bowling balls are cool ...

Holy mole!

I've lived in North Texas for 7 1/2 years, but I've never found mole that could rival the savory sauce I became addicted to in Lexington, Ky., at a Mexican restaurant a few blocks from my house. It was called Rincon, right near the University of Kentucky campus; if you're ever in town, tell 'em Rick sent you.

But last night that changed, when my wife mentioned that her co-worker and carpool buddy had celebrated his birthday at El Asadero on North Main in Fort Worth. He said the mole was the best he'd ever tasted, and Billy Bob grew up in these parts, so he should know.

We packed the fam into the car and went on a mole mission. And we weren't disappointed. El Asadero's mole is awesome -- so sweet and spicy that I sopped up every last drop with chips (and then a finger or two). At only $7.99, the enchiladas mole put to shame the mole at Cantina Laredo downtown, which was solid but too pricey ($12.99) for lunch.

In general, I've been disappointed by my mole choices around here -- Mi Cocina's is weak and Benito's, while traditional, just doesn't have enough sweetness or spice. So I'm declaring El Asadero's the best mole in all the land, but I know there are mole devotees out there who can prove me wrong.

Please do, because I'm worried that I'll start eating at El Asadero 2-3 times a week.

Finally, I always love it when I discover a great place that I've passed hundreds of times and that has been in business in for 25 years. Great detective work, huh?

Overheard in the Stockyards: Cut it off!

While out at dinner last night, I couldn't help but eavesdrop on a conversation about the Cowboys' current plight.

This is the best of what I heard: "Aw, he should just cut it off. He's already got the girl!"

This, of course, was about Tony Romo's broken pinkie, and how the QB didn't need the digit because he already had Jessica Simpson -- and a few other vital appendages.

Lest you think our random Cowboys crusader is extreme, consider the case of the Mesa State College lineman who had his shredded pinkie lopped off rather than miss the last few games of his football Division II career.

Kinda makes Romo look like a wuss ... or a sane person. I can't decide.

Leggo my giant ostrich sandwich!

The problem with building a mile-long ostrich sandwich is that it looks so darn tasty that onlookers will devour it before you can officially set a Guiness World Record.

Happens every day... in Iran ... right?

It's a sad, but true tale of a hulking hoagie gone bad.

More than 1,500 Iranian cooks spent two days constructing the 1,500 meter sandwich, and it took only minutes for a ravenous crowd to make it disappear.

Damn, Iranians. They're not all terrorists, but they sure are hungry.

You can watch the BBC video, which was clearly filmed before the chaos and carnage ensued.

George W. Bush: Forehead of state

President Bush has this uncanny knack for getting caught in awkwardly affectionate poses with foreign leaders.

He can turn nearly any photo op into a photo oops. It's one of the few truly endearing qualities about the man.

And it does provide some awesome caption contest material. Check out W. here, giving some forehead to the Italian prime minister.

Can't tell if they're two of the most powerful men in the world or teenagers on a first date. Don't let us have all the fun. Add your comments below.

Politician bobblehead smackdown

I love when we reduce flesh-and-blood politicians to bobblehead form. This is how we should do all elections.

Dallas councilman John Wiley Price is selling his bobble self to generate money for his re-election campaign. At nearly 25 bucks, that's one pricey synthetic desk ornament.

A few months back, the Fort Worth Cats enticed crowds to LaGrave Field on Mayor Mike Moncrief bobblhead night. The likeness is pretty uncanny, especially the whole nodding thing.

An anthem for the 'Chicken Fried' nation

Randy Galloway, the dean of DFW sports radio, likes to call North Texas "The Chicken Fried Nation." I love that term, in all its thick, white-gravied glory.

The only thing we need now is a theme song.

How 'bout Chicken Fried, and undeniably hooky anthem from a Georgia group called The Zac Brown Band. They're not singing specifically about Texas, but why split horse hairs. Listen to the song and watch the video (Brown looks like a less-menacing version of Jack Black), and I bet you won't be able to stop bopping to it in your head.

They're like the male version of The Dixie Chicks -- country with rock 'n' soul and edge.

Chicken Fried is the first single off ZBB's upcoming CD, The Foundation, and its racing up the Billboard country charts. The video debuts Monday on CMT. But you can watch it right 'chere.

Speaking of the Chicks, I miss 'em. Was sad to hear that they're deal to have a song in the movie The Lucky Ones fell through, but smiled when I read that Natalie Maines sang at Howard Stern's wedding. Woulda like to have been a fly on the wall at that reception, which included a performance by Billy Joel and gifts from the likes of Donald Trump and Joan Rivers. Oy.

Good news is that the Chicks are working on a new album. But in the meantime, I'll just have to jam to Chicken Fried.

Bowling with basketball stars

You might be tempted to watch the Dallas Cowboys play the Rams on Sunday at noon, just to see if Tony Romo keeps his pinky intact, but I've got a better option for ya:

It's a slam-dunk bowling event airing at the same time on ESPN. NBA stars Chris Paul, LeBron James, Dwayne Wade and former UT standout Kevin Durant will be teamed with pro bowlers for a tournament that's likely to be more entertaining than watching the 'Boys struggle to eek out a win over a dreadful St. Louis squad.

At the very least, set the DVR.

Stone-cold: Oliver's next movie about Palin?

Oliver Stone's W. has been such a hit with critics, his next movie, P. (as in Palin), is already burning up the web. Check out the trailer, and listen closely for a shout-out to Fort Worth.

Don't drink and G-mail

We've all heard the ol' axiom: Don't drink and dial.

Google is taking that a step further by looking out for your drunk a-- in the digital age with a new feature called Mail Goggles. It's like a little Gmail angel on your shoulder asking: Do you really want to proclaim your undying love for the boss' 17-year-old daughter? Or tell the world about your extra nipple?

Mail Goggles, which is only effective late at night and on weekends, kinda like me, requires you to answer five relatively easy math problems in 60 seconds before your Jerry Maguire manifesto is thrust onto the interwebs.

If you can't do the math, you can't do the e-mail. (Hey, you activated the program! Don't blame us!!)

Critics have already pointed out flaws. Mail Goggles is not available on Gmail for cell phones. And that's how most desperate and drunken messages are sent.

But we can't expect Google to save us from ourselves 24 hours a day. Can we?

Hap-hap-happy news: Fall leaves

Here in North Texas, temps dip into the mid-70s and we declare it a beautiful fall day. But  for some of us transplanted northerners, fall means blasts of burnt orange -- and I'm not talking about Longhorns.

Take a peep at some of these purty leaf photos from Waitsfield, Vt., where some friends vacationed recently and were nice enough to share their snapshots. Let the oohing and ahhing commence:

 

Hap-hap-happy news: You'll flip for flavor-tripping

All the sour news out there these days, we need a little sweetness in our lives, right?

Behold "sensepalum dulcificum," better known as the miracle fruit from West Africa that makes everything -- Tabasco, lemons, life -- taste sweeter.

Flavors From Afar has announced its second Dallas' Flavor Tripping Party, scheduled for Saturday, Oct. 25. For 15 bucks, you'll get all Willy Wonka'd out on this magic berry that makes Balsamic vinegar taste as sweet as a Pixie Stick.

Our own Kristin Campbell went to the first Dallas Flavor Tripping Party, and she still breaks out into a big smile describing the experience. So go, and if Saturday's party is sold out, FFA says they're likely to add a second date on Sunday Oct. 26.

Any monkey could do this

So I'm rolling out of bed about 4 this morning for the early shift here, and onto the TV screen pops a news item about a couple of monkeys who have been trained to wait tables at a Japanese restaurant.

Evidently it's in Utsunomiya City, Tochigi Prefecture.

And it caused me to reflect in a haze on my earlier career in the bar business. (Weren't all journalists in the biz at one time or another? Certainly, at least as loyal patrons.) Now it's come to this, and I suppose deep down I always knew it was so: A monkey can do the job I was paid to do.

But what does this do to my prospects when the market falls through the floor and we all lose our jobs? Too early in the day to think about this.

Anyway, here's the short, YouTube version of the monkey story, posted without accompanying commentary:

If you want to see the ABC News feature on it, it's here.

-- T-Bone

David Feherty's wild rides

Bowling fans, please indulge me a post about my other sports obsession: golf.

If you've watched any PGA tournaments on CBS in the last 8 years or so, than surely you've come to love David Feherty, the quick-witted Irishman whose on-course reporting keeps viewers from slipping into comas.

Well, Feherty is also an admitted basketcase who loves booze and bicycles, not necessarily in that order. And in the current edition of D Magazine, he tells how he got hit by a truck while riding in Big D.

As usual, he lays bare his life and skewers his foibles. It's a great read. And I, for one, am glad Feherty is upright and back on the course. Even my wife thinks he's hilarious, which makes it easier to justify watching six hours of golf on the weekends.

Hap-hap-happy news!

Listening to the umpteenth news report this morning on the economic bailout and then reading the headlines "crisis deepens," I snapped:

NO MORE NEGATIVE NEWS!!!!!! Please!

So in an attempt to save my sanity (and maybe yours), I debut Happy News, my feeble but totally snark-free attempt to bring a smile to your face or a ray of sunshine into this dark, dark world. So here goes:

Watch this video, and try not to smile:

Keep an eye out for more Happy News next week. And if you find something that makes you smile, by all means please share. No rules, except you must leave your cynicism at the door.

Breast milk in Ben & Jerry's?

That's the latest attention-grabbing suggestion from People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals -- the same group that recently offered to buy ads in the bathrooms at D/FW airport.

The braintrust at PETA sent a letter to Ben and Jerry, thinking the chunky monkeys might want to go easy on cows and start suckling at the real power teet -- human breast milk.

Doesn't look like anyone's taking the suggesti on (or PETA) too seriously, but I do think it'd be fun coming up with a name for Ben & Jerry's breast milk ice cream. I'll send a free pint of Cherry Garcia to best suggestion.

BTW, there is good reason to check out the PETA site; they've got video of Alicia Silverstone naked.

Gary Coleman is crazy ...

... and that's why I love the little guy.

Clearly, he has anger issues, judging from his latest throwdown with a fan at a bowling alley in Utah. But you'd be perpetually p.o.'d, too, if you'd grown up on TV with Mr. Drummond and that Hazel-wannabe Mrs. Garret.

Besides, Gary's occasional mad moments are child's play compared to the felonious antics of his kiddie co-star Todd Bridges and Dana Plato, may she rest in peace.

So give a Gary a break. And would somebody please find out the most important detail of this story:

How'd he bowl???

The best seat in the Cowboys' new stadium -- because it's the only row of seats

One day after the last Monday night game at Texas Stadium, the first seats were installed Tuesday for the Cowboys' new stadium in Arlington.

More details in the Wednesday Star-Telegram.

--Bud Kennedy