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.