Category: Abraham Lincoln

General Grant handed Abraham Lincoln a telescope. “Watch our victory unfold before your eye,” he said.
Abe looked through the telescope and watched the battle rage.
“My brilliant strategy is paying off,” said Grant.
“The issues of our struggle depended on the Divine interposition and favor,” muttered Abe. “It’s all up to God now.”
God looked down at the blood-splattered battlefield and winced.
Jesus handed Him a quarter, and God flipped it. “Call it.”
“Heads,” said Jesus.
God caught the quarter mid-air and covered it.
He opened his hands, and a dove flew out.
“Damn,” said God. “Happens every time.”

A barrel-chested metallic man marched around the White House lawn, occasionally belching steam and smoke.
“What is this that thing?” asked Mary Todd.
“It’s a steam-powered mechanical man,” said Abraham Lincoln. “I built it to garrison forts, positions, stations, and other places.”
“So it can do everything a human soldier can do?” asked Mary Todd.
“Well, there are some limits to its abilities,” said Abe. “It certainly won’t replace those men you sleep with when I’m busy.”
Weeks later, Mary Todd walked into the White House, covered in oil and grease.
And smiling.
“I stand corrected,” said Abe. “You whore.”

It was Bath Day, and the White House tub was full of warm sudsy water.
The problem was that Abraham Lincoln would be so busy doing his Presidential duties that he’d end up being the last to the tub.
The water was often quite foul by then, and sometimes a family member would accidentally break the tub.
So Abe finished his work, closed up his desk, and came upon a frightful scene.
“The bottom is out of the tub!” shouted Abe. “What shall I do?”
There was no answer.
So he stripped naked, went outside, and took a dust bath.

Lincoln stood on the cliff, plywood wings strapped to either arm.
The idea had come to Abe in a dream, and he’d spent the night scribbling up plans and sawing wood into crude airfoils.
“I can only trust in God I have made no mistakes,” shouted Abe, and he ran toward the cliff.
Up in Heaven, God watched the scene unfold.
“He’s early,” said Jesus.
“Then let him bounce off of a tree or something,” said God. “Or a gust of wind blow him back.”
“What if he tries again?” asked Jesus.
“Then screw him,” said God.
They watched, laughing.

Abraham Lincoln looked at the recruitment rolls and smiled.
Then, he look at the longer list of deserters and his smile turned into a scowl.
“Why are so many of our fine boys fleeing their posts?” he asked General Grant.
“Newspaper editors, scaring them silly,” growled General Grant, taking a swig from his flask. “But there’d be more if we didn’t shoot deserters.”
“Must I shoot a simple-minded soldier boy who deserts, while I not touch a hair of a wiley agitator who induces him to desert?” asked Lincoln.
“No, Mister President,” said General Grant. “I’ll shoot them for you.”

Abraham Lincoln stood before the prisoners of war and scowled. “You Virginians shed barrels of perspiration while standing off at a distance and superintending the work your slaves do for you,” he said.
“So?” said a Virginian soldier. “What of it?”
Abe walked up to the soldier and whispered in his ear: “How do stay smelling so fresh?”
“We cover ourselves with pumpkin pie,” said the soldier.
Abe leaned in close, took a whiff, and then licked the neck of the soldier.
“It is,” he said. “Delicious!”
For the rest of his days, Lincoln covered himself with fresh pumpkin pie.

Disturbed by mounting casualty figures, Abraham Lincoln asked for a census count.
When he had the numbers, he was in for a surprise.
“We have more men now that we had when the war began,” said Abe.
“Yes,” said the statistician. “But gender distribution’s gotten unbalanced.”
Abe noticed that there were many more women than men in public these days.
“It’s the same for the South, too?” asked Lincoln.
“I believe so,” said the statistician.
Lincoln chuckled and rubbed his hands together.
“I don’t think Mary Todd will be having any more headaches if she knows what’s good for her.”

The war had not gone well, and Lincoln was glad to see 1861 come to a close.
“I do not feel like celebrating, but we might as well ring in the new year,” he said.
“Drunks!” growled Mary Todd. “Nothing but drunks out there!”
“If we take habitual drunkards as a class,” said Lincoln, “their heads and their hearts will bear an advantageous comparison with those of any other class.”
A drunk stumbled up the steps of the White House, groaned a “Happy New Year” and promptly keeled over, dead.
“Their horribly abused livers are another matter entirely,” said Lincoln.

It was the night before Christmas, and Lincoln’s Cabinet was heading off to their various churches for services.
Lincoln sat alone, making paper dolls with scissors and war dispatches.
“Aren’t you going to church?” asked Salmon Chase.
“No,” said Lincoln. “I am not a member of any Christian Church.”
“Which church are you a member of then?” asked Chase.
Lincoln took a long needle from his stovepipe hat, licked it, and stabbed it through a paper doll.
Chase fell to the floor in agony.
“Any more stupid questions?” asked Lincoln.
Chase groaned “Merry Christmas” and crawled out of the room.