Category: Abraham Lincoln

Abe stopped the horse in the middle of the stream and began to cry.
“I want a new horse!” he moped. “This one is tired.”
“That’s not a good idea,” said his wife Mary Todd. “You’re in the middle of a stream.”
“Can I put on new pants, then?” asked Abe.
“Why on earth would you want new pants?” asked Mary Todd. “Did you have some sort of accident?”
“I’d rather not say,” said Abe.
“I’ll find out eventually,” said Mary Todd. “I’m the one who washes them, you know.”
Abe shrugged, smiled, and then ordered the burning of Atlanta.

“All I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother,” said Abraham Lincoln.
“So what advice did she give you?” asked Mary Todd.
“The last thing she said was ‘God fucks everyone up the ass with a hammer!’ really loud,” said Abe. “It makes perfect sense, too.”
“What kind of hammer?” asked Mary Todd.
“Um…” stammered Abe. “I don’t know.”
Abe spent the rest of his life shoving different hammers up his ass. Claw hammers, sledge hammers, jackhammers…
Only as he was strolling bowlegged into Ford’s Theater did he realize he should have shoved them in handle-first.

You may have heard somewhere that Abe was born in a log cabin
A competing theory says that Abe was born on a distant planet and was shot here in a rocketship by his loving parents, wishing he’d escape the cataclysm that faced their homeworld.
Our yellow sun’s rays made him powerful, invulnerable, and even gave him the ability to fly.
So, how did John Wilkes Booth shoot Lincoln then?
Why, a Kryptonite bullet, silly.
Of course, rival theories such as these are utterly and totally full of crap, but I like telling the “sewn-together corpses” one to my kids.

Lincoln shuffled his notes. After all his years on the road, he could smell trouble.
Independence Hall reeked of it.
“I have never had a feeling politically that did not spring from the sentiments embodied in the Declaration of Independence,” shouted Lincoln to the crowd. “But now that I’m President, let’s just forget that whole rebellion against tyrants thing, okay?”
When he got back to Washington, Lincoln commissioned a throne made from human skulls.
“Make sure it matches the drapes,” he told the decorator. “Or your skull will join the others.”
Impressive, it was. But not good for the spine.

Abe’s favorite hobby was breeding racing flies. He worked hard at breeding different bloodlines for sprinting and long distance races.
Every now and then, he’d breed up a super-fly, capable of competing in both the sprints and the marathons.
The fact that he raised them from maggots deep in the flesh of his calves seriously hampered his chances at public office. So, in the end, he gave up his one true love for politics, as many ambitious men do.
Still during the worst battles of the war, Abe secretly snuck out to indulge in his favorite pastime with enemy corpses.

During his summers, Abraham Lincoln worked in a circus as a Tic Tac Toe-playing chicken.
“Bawk,” said Abe, pecking at the center square.
“That’s no chicken,” growled the farmer he was playing against. “I think that’s just future president Abraham Lincoln in a chicken suit. I want my nickel back!”
“Cluck,” said Abe.
“Did you say future president?” asked the carnival owner.
“Yes,” said the farmer. “Why?”
The carnival owner hired the farmer on as a Hindu psychic.
Abe was fired, but he kept the chicken suit just in case the whole rail-splitting lawyer and president gig didn’t work out.