Looks Like It Done Get Personal

Now it seems like my previous entry got my opponent, Mr. Sinclair, all riled up like a horse in heat. It looks like he thought he could just come on down to the 14^th district and why, we’d just be so gosh-darned honored that we’d send him right up to Congress, no questions asked. Now, it seems like Mr. Sinclair thinks that he can do the best job of representing y’all, but that’s mighty funny because I never seem to see him around. I ain’t never seen him at my rib joint, and I ain’t never seen him at my annual pig roast, and I ain’t never seen him roaming the woods during possum-hunting season. Mr. Sinclair should give ol’ T-Bone a call next time he’s around, cause it looks like we keep missing each other! Maybe him and his family can stop by T-Bone’s, and I can give him some of my famous Memphis ribs, just for stopping by.

Now one thing I will say about Mr. Sinclair is that he sure seems like a smart fellow, cause he knows that the best way to get ole T-Bone fired up is to ridicule my old ball-playing days. Now according to Mr. Sinclair I wasn’t much of a ballplayer. Apparently Mr. Sinclair fancies himself some sort of expert on baseball. Now, I find that mighty funny, cause I don’t recall ever playing against Mr. Sinclair during my 6 years in the bigs. But Mr. Sinclair must have been quite the ballplayer, as he seems to have no problem puttin’ down my career and calling it ’stunted’. Might I suggest he call up Mike Scott or Nolan Ryan or Billy Hatcher or any of my other teammates and ask them what they thought of old T-Bone, I think they’ll paint you a mighty different picture. And Mr. Sinclair may not know this, but we were playing in the days before steroids, and the Astrodome wasn’t no picnic to hit in, let me assure you. You put some steroids into ole T-Bone and throw him in one of these modern parks against these modern pitchers who can’t make it past the 6^th inning, and why I reckon my .284/9/61 line looks more like .340/35/130. And Mr. Sinclair must have been in France or something during 1986, because I believe our ‘terrible’ team won the division that year.

Mr. Sinclair also seems to have a problem with T-Bone’s Terror Fightin’ Squad. He brings up certain incidents from our past and I found that mighty unfair. Now, it’s no secret that me and the boys on the Squad like to have a few drinks every now and then, as protecting the country can be a bit stressful. Where I come from, we don’t judge a man for the things he does when he’s drunk. Now if one of my boys drank a little too much whiskey and mistook a cow for a pretty lady, or mistook a Mexican for a deer, or mistook The Cayman Islands to be his primary residence in order to avoid paying taxes…well I just say ‘aw, hell’, cause ain’t nobody perfect.

Mr. Sinclair says that he supports the troops, but this is a man who has repeatedly advocated tearing down the Pentagon and converting the land into an organic farm. And if he thinks he can one-up me by offering to take in any soldiers, well he’s got another thing coming, because not only our all our fightin’ boys welcome to stay at old T-Bone’s place, they’re welcome to a free helping of ribs and a night with my lovely wife Marianne.*

Mr. Sinclair seems to know an awful lot about queers. And despite his alleged ‘knowledge’ about baseball, he seems like a bit of a sissy to me. And that wife of his looks like one of those cold, frigid types who hasn’t had good lovin’ since Reagan was in office. And he dresses really fancy. Just sayin’.

*- This offer is good for members of all branches of military except the Coast Guard. But don’t worry Coasties, I didn’t forget about you guys. Y’all are entitled to 20% off all rib purchases as well as a hand job from my ex-wife Tina.

Mighty Important Announcement

Howdy, fellas, T-Bone Taylor here ready to give y’all an earful of what’s on my mind. Now, you fellas know T-Bone ain’t one to mince words, so let me come out and say it. I’m frightened as a rooster about the prospect of an Obama presidency. As the owner of a small business (T-Bone’s Hot N’ Spicy Ribs, 2 miles off of Route 113), I’m worried what an increase in taxes will do to me. My rib joint is my life, you fellas know that, and I would die before I had to close it down. But all I’m saying is that if I ever get rid of $2 rib night, you fellas know who to blame. And as an avid hunter, I’m worrying that Mr. Obama is going to infringe on my 2nd-amendment rights and take away my flamethrower. Now I can already hear some of you big-city sissies going ‘Now, T-Bone, who needs a flamethrower to hunt?’. To these people, I say, don’t it seem silly to kill a deer and then cook it, when you can do both at the same time? As Uncle Chet used to say ‘Ain’t no need to milk a cow if all you want is whiskey’. I’m also worried about our families. Mr. Obama says he’s opposed to gay marriage, and I really wanna believe him, but I’d believe him a whole lot more if that wife of his didn’t look like someone I used to play ball with. Now before you all go talking out of turn, I ain’t accusing Mr. Obama of being a sissy, just sayin’ it’s hard to tell these days. All I’m trying to say in my own clumsy little way is that I’m worried. America is the greatest country ever created, and the 14^th district is the greatest Congressional district God ever created, and they both deserve better. And that’s why I, T-Bone Taylor, would like to formally announce my candidacy for Congress.

Now my opponent, Mr. Sinclair, is probably gonna sweet-talk y’all with a whole bunch of fancy college words. Words like ‘tolerance’ and ‘compassion’ and ‘progress’. Now T-Bone respects y’all too much for all that stuff. I’m just tired as a rooster of people making a bunch of talk they ain’t gonna live up to. My Pa always told me “There ain’t no use sweet-talkin’ a horse when you ain’t got no wheat”. Now I may not have quite the vocabulary of Mr. Sinclair, but I’m going to always look out for y’all. I’ve always believed in actions not words. In the 80’s, when Mr. Sinclair was going to his fancy-pants school in Boston, I was hitting .284 for the Astros, averaging 9 homers and 61 RBIs, with mighty fine defense at second base. Back in the 90’s, when he was petitioning to get Ronald Reagan retroactively impeached, I was opening my own line of rib joints, making the best damn ribs in the county. After 9/11, when he was pushing for a diplomatic agreement with Al-Qaida, I created T-Bone’s Terror Fightin’ Squad, a small group of concerned citizens which made sure to keep an eye on that Arab fella who works at the 7/11 down by City Hall. And just this past summer, when he was campaigning to make French our national language, I was wrestling a bear for charity. THAT’S the difference between me and Mr. Sinclair, and don’t you forget it.

Now I ain’t one for writin’, but I thought this would be a good opportunity to outline for you good folks some of my promises. You fellas know T-Bone ain’t never broke a promise he made, and here are some promises I make to you, the good people of the 14^th district:

• I’ll do everything in my God-given power to uphold the 2^nd amendment. I will also try mighty hard to uphold the 1^st, 5^th, 8^th, and 21^st. The rest I can take or leave (I hope that our fightin’ boys know that they’re always welcome to quarter themselves at my place).

• I will protect your family from terrorism. T-Bone’s Terror Fightin’ Squad has done a great job the past 7-odd years, and I’m mighty proud to say there hasn’t been a single attack inside America in that time. Over the years, T-Bone’s Terror Squad has added a whole lotta people to our surveillance lift (including that funny-looking Spanish guy who hangs around the parking lot and Billy Joe’s ex-wife). If elected, we’ll keep on expandin’ T-Bone’s Terror Squad in order to keep you fellas nice and secure.

• I will protect your family from queers. Now I don’t think queers are gonna come into your house in the middle of the night and steal your children, but they sure as hell might try to have sex with them.

• Also, if elected, I will give a free helpin’ of T-Bone’s very own St. Louis Ribs to anyone who votes for ol’ T-Bone. Now I know ballots are supposed to be secret, but trust me fellas, I got my ways of knowing.

In conclusion, I just wanna say that I’d be proud as a rooster to represent you people in Congress. To serve in Washington would be a dream come true, and I just know I could help bring you fellas the change you deserve. As Uncle Earl always said “What’s the use in riding a horse when you ain’t got nowhere to go?”