Curse you, National Enquirer!  I had my review of Duane Chapman's autobiography completely written in my head, and then you had to throw everything out of whack by breaking the story of Chapman's casual use of the N-word.  How am I supposed to write under these conditions?

I was surprised when the story broke, but than again, Chapman -- you know him as A&E reality-show star "Dog the Bounty Hunter," of course — is not a man known for mincing his words.  In You Can Run But You Can't Hide he calls himself "the greatest bounty hunter who ever lived," and when discussing how he met his infamously well-endowed wife Beth, writes, "I've always had a thing for smart women -- especially smart women with big tits."

As with most celebrity memoirs, I have no doubt that "co-author" Laura Morton actually did all the writing.  But I have to admit, it certainly reads as though Dog himself wrote the book.  And say what you like about Chapman, you can't deny that a dozen good books could be made out of his life story.

Born to a tough, violent father, Chapman hooked up with a biker gang as a teenager; drifted from job to job, state to state and wife to wife; got convicted of first-degree murder in Texas despite not actually being present for the murder (so he says, anyway); became a bounty hunter and bail bondsman; became a popular motivational speaker at Tony Robbins seminars; moved to Hawaii and got the highest-rated show on A&E; got parodied on South Park; and, to top it all off, got jailed in Mexico after hunting down a convicted rapist.  And that was all before his recent brush with controversy.

You Can Run But You Can't Hide, needless to say, is hardly literature for the ages.  But it is an entertaining read, and just like on the TV show, Chapman comes across as the kind of larger-than-life character that could only exist in real life.

Of course, now that Chapman is frantically trying to beg Al Sharpton for forgiveness (how Al Freaking Sharpton became America's standard-bearer for race relations is a subject that deserves its own book), a pall has been cast over You Can Run But You Can't Hide.  A&E has suspended production of Dog's series -- too bad, because the current unpleasantness would make great television -- and the publisher, Hyperion, finds itself with a public-relations disaster on its hands.

Ironically, Dog -- who is partially of Apache descent, and claims to be a descendant of Cochise -- uses his memoir to describe the prejudice he experienced as a "half-breed," and disavows racism.  Chapman's book, like every autobiography ever written, only tells the story Chapman wants us to know, but you already suspected as much.

If Dog's career survives the current unpleasantness, at least he'll have no shortage of material for the paperback edition.