Smile Politely

Don’t vote for Mike Coulter

Okay, there’s a lot of stuff today, so no screwing around. Let’s get it on.


Monday, October 22, 2012

I woke up this morning and ran to the computer just to make sure my beloved Cardinals didn’t come back and beat the Giants in game 6 of the NLCS. I had a hissy fit in the 8th inning and didn’t watch the end. It turns out they did not come back in game 6, so I now have to push my fragile psyche into a game 7 mentality.

With an hour to go until game time, I realized I couldn’t stay home and watch the game. First of all, I’m too antsy. Second of all, they always seem to lose when I watch them at home. Yeah, it’s a ridiculous superstition, but my doing things that I think may help other people do their jobs better totally helps with my problem of self-centeredness.

Also, it’s just best to be around people for a game 7. I can either cheer or bitch with other Cardinal fans, so that’s nice. Besides that, there’s usually a couple of dick hole Cub fans who have nothing better to do than root against the Cards, so that gives me something else to hate. I actually find it quite calming to develop a slow, burning hatred for other human beings over the course of a three-hour game.

So, I’m out boozing and the game starts. The first two innings suck a big fat wang. Kyle Lohse is pitching for the Cards and he’s been great all year, but I have no confidence in him. He seems like Dane Cook: successful and yet immensely untalented. He gives up two runs faster than I can drink two beers, so um, very fast.

By the third inning, Lohse is choking like a rookie porn star. I consider doing a shot, but instead do two. The Giants score five more runs in this rat bastard of an inning, making the score 7–0. Sure, there’s six innings left, but I decide it might be best to make my peace with the Redbirds season coming to a close. Honestly, they did better than I expected, but it’s tough not to get greedy.

To make matters worse, one of those Cub fans I was trying to hate buys me a shot, I assume because he feels sorry for me. I accept it, but it still sort of pisses me off. I manage to watch the rest of the game and try to maintain at least some bitterness towards something, but I really can’t. I’m just melancholy. It already seems like such a long time until next April.


Matt Talbott and I are not running for any sort of office, partly because we’re lazy and mostly because no one would vote for us anyway. Still, we both love negative campaigning, so we’ve decided to run against each other just so we could do a little mud slinging. Let’s get to know the candidates.

My name is Matt Talbott and I would appreciate your vote on November 3rd. I know the election is not until the 5th, but I’d like to get a jump on things. But first, a few notes about my opponent, Mike Coulter.

Mike Coulter once fucked a leopard. And his idea of balancing a budget is to settle a bar tab, preferably with your hard-earned tax dollars. A tax-and-drink leopard fucker who once actually wiped his own ass with a copy of the constitution? That might play in Oblong, Illinois, but that’s not the kind of leadership we need in Springfield or in Washington. Or even in Paducah, Kentucky, for that matter. Also he’s an alcoholic.

I love children. That’s why I have some. Mike Coulter hates family and runs a dog kennel out of his house. I can’t say for sure that his pit bulls are involved in any kind of organized illegal fighting ring, even though they probably are, but I will say that that yellow one has smacked me in the balls so many times that I can no longer sit for long periods of time.

But let’s not make this election about my opponent. Let’s make it about new ideas and a new vision for the future, and how I never fucked a leopard. My name is Matt Talbott. I have a Master’s Degree, I once helped set up chairs at a Sunday afternoon church function, and I do not approve of Mike Coulter.

Hi, I’m Mike Coulter. Even though I’m not technically running for any sort of office this year, it doesn’t mean I don’t feel obligated to warn you about my opponent, Matt Talbott. I may not be the man for this job, but he certainly isn’t the woman for it.

He’s not even one of us. He grew up in a town called Cambridge. I don’t know about you, but that sounds like it could be the name of a town in England to me. England! It’s easy to see where his loyalties probably lie: on the side of the Tories.

Still not convinced? Well, hold on to your hats. He adopted a child from the Ukraine. The Ukraine! No thanks, Mr. Trotsky, we don’t need that kind of leadership in Springfield.

Is he trying to build some sort of Eastern Bloc army of super-children-non-freedom fighters? Maybe, maybe not, but I don’t want to take that chance. Do You?

Let’s just say if you elect Matt Talbott, your own children better get used to putting several tiny toys into a larger toy. He’s that dangerous.

Oh, he tries to come off as a family man, but I’ve seen The Boys from Brazil, and that, my friends, is not the sort of family I want representing me. I’ve also seen Red Dawn and let me just say my opponent is not on the side of the Wolverines, if you get my drift … which you probably don’t because it’s a terrible old movie, but the point is still valid. Suffice it to say, Talbott equals danger.

You don’t have to vote Mike Coulter on November 3rd or 5th or whenever, but for the love of your children and country, don’t vote for Matt Talbott.


I’m not sure why I picked this one. Is it because it’s almost Halloween? Maybe, but probably not. I think it’s mostly because the guy seems sort of deranged, and yet still kind of strangely nice. I very rarely say that about anyone who is wearing a holster.

Man, a fella like that could have ended that Legend of Sleepy Hollow mystery in about three minutes.


  • I saw a Smurf comedian over the weekend. He was working a little blue for my taste. Actually, I did see two people dressed like Smurfs at a party. They looked pretty smurfing good, but I think they may have been smurfed up.
  • To all the people who have been screaming as they walk by our house at three in the morning, um, stop it already.

Buona Sera, senorina, kiss me goodnight.

Related Articles