this is how I look when I blog
One of my favorite websites is McSweeneys.net. It is the electronic gigantic arm of the oft-praised, much demonized lord of self-publishing (and tutoring little chlidren to write) Dave Eggers. Oh yeah, he also wrote a little Pulitzer Prize winning book called A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. Anyway, any idiot can submit a little humor story to their website for momentary worldwide acclaim. Also I would like to add that any idiot can win the Pulitzer Prize. Look at the guy who did A Confederacy of Dunces. He was a rotting corpse and he still won.
This idiot (yours truly) has been rejected three times. I am enclosing my final shot to you dear readers. Good enough for your humor bone or complete drivel? If I am rejected I will be recruiting a forward attack team from my lovely admirers to wage all out war on McSweeneys. However, this little story may require a little advanced Presidential trivial knowledge so don't blame me if you don't laugh. Presidential humor is so fucking funny...get with the times. Here it goes...
COMPLETELY USELESS ADVICE TO SOME RANDOM DEAD PRESIDENTS
To The Honorable JAMES MADISON-Horses are tall. Avoid riding all equines in public. They will only mock your miniscule stature and most likely draw attention to the fact that your party animal wife and snack queen, Dolly, towers over you. Try riding mules or donkeys or large dogs while attending public events.
Addressing the handsome JAMES K. POLK-I would like to make some suggestions to you about your legendary video game for the Apple IIE, Oregon Trail. My oxen keep dying when I am trying to ford rivers. Please make them fly. Also, why can't I sell my children to friendly Apache Indians for food? Isn't that more humane than having my whole family starve? Finally, kindly refill the West with bountiful game after I kill them all. I am sure other gamers/Manifest Destiny followers would love to shoot as many animals I do as we make our way to Oregon.
For the portly man-beast known as GROVER CLEVELAND-If you just ate a few more dinners or maybe injected lard directly into your belly, you could have earned the immortal title of MOST UNGODLY GIGANTIC FATASS LEADER OF ALL TIME. What elementary schoolchild could ever forget you come time for presidential roll call?
Regards to JAMES BUCHANAN- The Civil War (or War Between the States) was essentially your gig and your own Southerners hated you slightly less than those pesky Northerners but that doesn't mean you should be ashamed about your future presidential rank. No one even knows what or who the hell CHESTER A. ARTHUR was (it is presumed ARTHUR was a French stooge, a Martian envoy or an animated statue of Tremont L. Willard, the clown prince of 18th century comedy woodcarving).
To the sometimes forgetful RONALD REAGAN-The Gipper was a totally cool nickname...even though you were a complete tool.
Happily presenting to the tall, sea-going WOODROE WILSON-After "winning" WWI and "bitchslapping those stupid dying Euros some sense" you should have not named your pet project the whiny, helpful sounding League of Nations but instead used the more imposing Hall of Ass Kicking Americans and some other insignificant countries.
Shot over the bow goes to the graceful, congenial, apparently loathed JAMES GARFIELD-Duck, you're about to be shot, buddy!
Last but not least humble thoughts for the demi-god FRANKLIN D. ROOSEVELT-Atomic bombs are scarily impressive but your mighty resources of scientific and economic might could have been used for a much greater purpose. Three words...MOTHERFUCKING HOVER WHEELCHAIR! True, you may have only lived a couple years but don't you think flying one of those around at the Yalta Conference would have had the entire world bending over and calling you Supreme Ruler of the Universe.
