Smart Mouths Podcast

Are you ready for this? THIS IS IT. And not in the Michael Jackson sense. This is the end. So okay. Maybe it is in the Michael Jackson sense. Suffice it to say, if we were the Bible… this would be the Book of Revelation.

Thankfully we’re way cooler than the Bible, so this is just THE FINALE instead. And so, for the final time, we say (cue drumroll, Mr. Bonham): This week in Smartmouths…

• Don’t Ask/Don’t Tell is repealed! Finally! You’re welcome!

• Famed diplomat, Jedi, and American Hero Richard Holbrooke passed away. We honor his life and his death by explaining who the fuck he is.

• The Times’ Person of the Year was Mark Zuckerberg. Ten bucks says half of Facebook couldn’t even pronounce his name before Aaron Sorkin.

• Brett Favre is back in the news. Assuming you maintain a thoroughly loose definition of the word “news.”

• North Korea: The World Infant. Someone extricate the chopsticks out of Kim Jong-Il’s ass. But it’s okay, we’ll all be fine, because Elysa’s brother is going to usurp that motherfucker Mission Impossible style.

• We listen back to a few of our favorite moments, and there’s not a dry eye on the line. Just kidding! We’re not pussies.

• A final Google That Shit reveals that everyone on the internet is either having a child or having bloody shits.

• Elysa mounts her soapbox for the last time. Brace yourself. It’s full of righteous indignation, and worse— an unhealthy amount of sincerity.

• We answer a few last-minute tweets, Micah T gives it to us WTF-style (it’s kinky, don’t worry), and we plug this badass project started by some of you badass listeners: http://fuckyeahsmpodcast.tumblr.com/
  

Remember punks: we’re leaving this website, our email address and our Twitter account up and running so that we can update you on any new projects, shows, etc. So feel free to drop us a line, and make sure you’re checking your fine asses back in every now and then. You haven’t heard the last of us.

Finally, we want to thank everyone who is reading this right now. Unless you’re a troll, in which case GTFO. But really, the truth is this: there is no show without an audience. And so any parts of this you have loved, any moments that stayed with you, any lines that made you laugh– were all made possible by you and your loyal support. Similarly, you have gifted us with countless memories and the opportunity to solidify old, or build new, friendships. Thank you. And though we’ve never said it before, we’ll say it now: we love you. Fine. Fuck. Are you happy?

Hasta luega, bitches. We shall meet again.

(JEFFERSON LIVES.)

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Walt Disney was a depraved bastard. We all know this. He was a sick, racist, rodent-besotted freak, but for our purposes today he’s just a liar. A liar by omission. So let us cleanse his sins, one transgression at a time.

The truth: Mary Poppins isn’t an original character. In point of fact, that’s just Penny’s pseudonym, and Disney stole her story (along with my childhood) for the purposes of profit. That ridiculous fucking hat Poppins is always wearing? Hiding the yamika. And don’t tell me yamikas are for Jewish men only. That’s just sexist.

So the truth has been revealed, and you heard it here first: Penny is Mary Poppins. Much in the same way Mickey Mouse is Lucifer except moderately less homicidal. Moderately.

But I tell you this today, on the grand anniversary of P-Money’s triumphant appearance on the world stage, because it explains so much about her character and us. For if Penny is Mary Poppins, then we are the motherless delinquents she struggles so desperately to keep in line. And let’s face it. If you were charged with rehabilitating a slew of prurient and sexually-deviant children you would be a little unhinged yourself. (Yeah, FYI. That seemingly innocent flying umbrella doubles as a cane, and not the kind you walk with.)

Beyond this, however, the hidden identity also goes a long way to explaining Penny’s special brand of patience. I stipulate “special brand” because it isn’t the lackluster type of patience that allows someone to wait in long lines at theme parks. Rather it’s the type of patience that allows someone to survive the nefarious dynamics of several young adults who think “maturity” goes hand-in-hand with “hippogriff,” insofar as they’re both mythical concepts.

She is the cornerstone of this group and this show. We may still be here without her, but it would be as formless shapes and fallen bridges, because Penny is the mortar that holds everything and everyone together. This kind of sensibility and talent would be impressive enough, but what really makes her our very own Mary Poppins is the degree of good humor and charm with which she manages it. When faced with trouble, she meets it head-on, and with a smile that makes onlookers believe she could take on the world if she so chose. She’s a dependable ear, a shoulder to cry on when you weren’t even aware you needed one, and possesses the sort of personality misguided tweens everywhere could learn a lot from.

She laughs at us a lot, which makes her a bit of a bitch, but she laughs at herself even more, which makes her a bit of an anomaly. She is unmatched in kind tolerance and has more good grace in her pinky finger than the rest of us do combined. Most of us have known her for scarcely more than a year, yet all of us feel we’ve known her our whole lives. She just has some magical ability to make you feel comfortable, accepted, cared for to the point of pampering, even if you’ve known her only a short time.

The fact that she embodies all these things, but can also be fun and funny and amiable, speaks to that Disney-like quality I mentioned in the beginning. Not the part of Disney that was a mad lunatic who destroyed childhoods with his demonic playthings. But rather the part that made us all believe, despite the better part of practical judgment, that with just a little bit of sugar and the right show-tune, even the darkest of days would pass. With her charming and thoughtful nature, that is what Penny does for us. Even if she doesn’t know it.

Happy birthday, mi amor! May today be full of mirth and booze. Though mostly just the latter.

U.S. History Trivia: Before a crew of homicidal dickshits turned September 11th into a national day of mourning, it was actually known as St. Matthew the Smartass Day. At least in California. Well, Southern California. Okay more like to us only but nevertheless.

It’s difficult to encapsulate Matt in words. One would assume that, the better you know him, the easier it gets. Allow me to shatter this illusion now: in point of fact, the better you know him, the harder it gets. Pun intended.

For in actuality, the only thing that could even come close to describing Matt is a pomegranate martini – fun, fruity and highly intoxicating. Consume with caution.

Still, some of his truths are so incontrovertible, even the Jews and the Palestinians would put down the pipe bombs long enough to agree. He’s brilliantly hilarious. Quick-witted. Pithy. Disarming. Easygoing. So destructively lovable he could convert Hugo Chavez into a squealing fangirl. Many days I seriously consider just airlifting his ass into the Afghan mountains and simply tranquilizing our enemies into submissiveness with his charisma. Talk about a weapon of mass destruction. Matt Britton > Anthrax.

That being said, he’s also a whole host of other things, many of which aren’t as obvious unless you’ve spent a grotesquely inordinate amount of time with him. (For the record, avoid this at all costs.) For instance, in reality, he’s as modest as they come – something he doesn’t even realize, which in itself is both case and point. Take it from me, though: it’s like at some point in his sleep, the Humble Fairy slapped him around and made him her bitch.

And he’s talented; so talented that I’m frankly just buying my time until he becomes famous and I can ride his coattails to the top. And he’s a good enough friend that even though I’m joking about that, he would let me. He’s an incredible listener, and at heart, a world class gentleman… when he isn’t viciously capitalizing on certain Disney-themed fears, that is. And I’d be hard-pressed to name anybody I consider to be more trustworthy than Matt. Not only because he keeps your secrets, but because he fails to judge them.

Which, at last, bring us to this: he is one of the most open-minded people you could ever hope to know. And that doesn’t just translate into “he’s liberal,” as it does for many people. No, he is the rare person who applies his tolerance consistently, and that means extending it even to those with whom he disagrees. Whether you’re black or white, gay or straight, Democrat or Republican, religious or atheist, he meets you and your values with deference. Of all the reasons he is a phenomenal friend, this is the first. Of all the qualities that make him admirable, this is the most unique and heartening. That, and his Mel Gibson impressions.

It is with this in mind that today, the 11th of September in the 2010th year of our Lord, we celebrate the great occasion of his birth. Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Britton, for practicing unprotected sex. May your fine example be adopted by the masses, for if every couple could produce one such as Matt, the world would be a funnier, more genuine albeit vastly more unhinged place.

Happy birthday, dear! We love you!

May 23rd doesn’t get enough press. At least, not for the right reasons. Most people know it as the day Napoleon was crowned King of Italy, or the start of the Mexican-American war, or the day Nazi Nutbag Heinrich Himmler committed suicide, or perhaps as International World Turtle Day.

Consequently, too few people grasp its true significance. Too few people understand the magnitude of this date, the utter cosmic totality of its passing. For on this day 21 years ago, evolution reached its pinnacle. All that ever was, from the Big Bang to now, culminated in the birth of Andrew Sims.

I speak for everyone when I say that, without Andrew, none of us would be here with you today. Well fine, maybe – maybe – we would still exist as people, but not as the insanely awe-inspiring podcasters you know us as. It was his vision and talent that started all of these (somewhat disturbing) shows, from MuggleCast to SmartMouths, so the next time we mortally offend your every mature sensibility you can go ahead and thank him.

No seriously. Don’t look at us.

We, as a group, as a dynamic, would not exist without him. Not only because it was his passion for broadcasting and entertainment that initiated this entire shitstorm, but because he believed in the rest of us. He made a name for himself early on, and had his pick of people to share the limelight with. He’s visited movie sets, interviewed New York Times Best-Selling authors, sat down at tables with Hollywood producers and devised History-Making book discussions. He could have shared that with anybody, could have chosen to do his show(s) with anyone. But he chose us. He believed in us. He showed us the ropes, exhibited Saintlike patience throughout, and most impressively, befriended us along the way. He is one of the truest friends in recorded history – I mean seriously, it’s a little fucking sickeningly sweet sometimes – and defines what it is to be fiercely loyal, understanding, and genuine.

When I first met him, five years ago this summer, my first thought was… okay, truthfully it was “how do I tap that?” But then it was, “he’s just so grotesquely easy to like!” And to some degree, to those who know him best, that sums him up perfectly: He’s just one of those people that could run over your cat and you’d invite him in for tea and scones. Maybe that makes him a wizard. But I like to believe that’s just the charisma, the open charm and easy humor he so naturally displays, both professionally and personally. Many of us owe some of our best experiences and memories to his unabashed willingness to selflessly share his own. So much of what we get to do is because of him, and so much of what we know about friendship is due to him.

But above all, even greater than any of those things combined, is his penchant for school hallway pants-shitting. I mean let’s be honest, that’s the real reason we like him.

Happy birthday Andrew, you scintillating piece of man meat! We love you!

HOLY HELLBASKET, John Green is on Smart Mouths?! Hath hell frozen over? Does Penny love Oprah? Does Elysa hate Glambert? Because this is some earth-shattering, paradigm-shifting, apocalyptic stuff. I repeat: John Green – THE John Green, a legit author, viral phenomenon extraordinaire – is on the show this week to discuss his book Will Grayson, Will Grayson.

Wait – this doesn’t mean we’re earning credibility, does it? No? Okay good.

• We open the book discussion with a few standard questions – the only time in this interview where we aren’t actively making asses of ourselves.
  
• Discussion of the Epic as Hell (minus the fire-and-brimstone) novel is very thematic, with particular focus on the interconnectedness of truth and love.
  
• Penny pays Elysa the most profound compliment of her life. And that includes the time Matt called her his ho.
  
• Also: How can we be fabulous? John answers with his usual Jedi-like wisdom and wit.
  
• Last Words with John Green: A new game in which we guess what celebrities’ last words will be. Up on the pyre: Bill Clinton, Lady Gaga, Barney the Dinosaur… yeah, we go there.
  

For the whole three people out there who haven’t heard of John the Wise and/or read his novels, check him out. You won’t be disappointed, unless you’ve got a pet peeve against killer writing skillz. His website is http://www.sparksflyup.com/, his awesome youtube is http://www.youtube.com/vlogbrothers and he’s @realjohngreen over on Twitter.

And in special thanks to John for making an appearance on our (let’s be honest) less-than-inspiring production, we’re asking our listeners to donate to his charity of choice: The American Red Cross Nashville Relief Fund . For our part, we’ve already donated $200 – a figure John has graciously offered to match – so let’s play a philanthropic game of Follow the Leader, shall we? Donate Here. Come on now. Don’t be a bitchsqueeler.

This podcast is brought to you by Audible.com. Download a free audiobook of your choice today at http://audiblepodcast.com/smartmouths

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Gregory the Great: Technerd. Drunkard. Jew extraordinaire. He has taught us the Philosophy of Chuck Norris, the value of liquoring up before making thinly-disguised lewd phone calls, and how best to succinctly and effectively offend every country that ever was. In the School of Awesome, he is our Jedi Master.

And today he is another year older, another year wiser, perhaps another year closer to realizing we’re all just using him for his sex. Sad.

Thank you, Greg, for supporting our crazy, for making us laugh, for being the closest thing to a sane person we have on this unholy show— which is, granted, much like being the smartest kid on the short bus, but nevertheless we couldn’t do this without you, and Allah help us if we’re ever forced to try.

Happy birthday, dear! We love you!

That’s riiiight! Our favorite WTF News anchor turns 27 today! Micah’s been winning over our hearts with his subtle wit and uncanny knack for finding the most bizarre news stories since the show’s first episode, and we simply don’t know what the fuck we’d do without him.

So thank you, Micah, for being such a true friend – both to the show and to us – and for sending off every Smart Mouths episode in style. We love ya!