Tag Archives: Andrew Jackson

America’s Heroes Battling Monsters

“I need to buy all of these.  Every.  Single.  One.”

~You

Art is okay, we guess.  It’s one of the classiest ways to see boobs, and if you have a friend that’s deciding to not make money by painting shit for a living, you at least can go to their gallery openings for an evening of free wine and sub-par cheese spreads.  And there are plenty of Americans who have added very iconic and significant contributions to the artistic and pop culture world, like that one guy who designed the label for Campbell’s soup.

But if there are kinds of art that we don’t particularly care for (looking at you, 25 foot black canvas with a single silver dot on it), there’s one that we can never get enough of.  And that would be images of American presidents and historical figures doing badass things in impossible contexts.  We’ve shown some of these images on our site before, but now it’s time we give proper due, thanks to the gentle prodding from Bro Bible, to American digital artist Jason Heuser.  Because any man that can depict Ben Franklin with Wolverine claws fighting Zeus deserves our money.

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The Greatest Fights Between Great American Figures (That Never Happened) (That We Wish Happened)

“You want a piece of me?  COME ON, ASSHOLES!  WHO WANTS A PIECE OF ME!”

~Gandhi

We Americans try to act civilized and focus on the finer things in life, like a nice aged scotch or photoshopping actresses’ faces onto photos of naked women, but despite our efforts to contain our savage impulses, we do love a good fight.  There’s nothing wrong with that—fighting is a healthy and natural way to vent anger, settle disputes, and teach assholes not to drive on the highway with their blinker on the whole time.  The mere existence of fighting is responsible for 100% of all instances where someone shouts, “Yeah you better run,” which is one of the more underappreciated American sentences in existence.

If you ever doubt America’s hidden yearning to watch people bash the ever-loving bile out of each other, just ask any American male why he likes the movie Fight Club.

“The anti-capitalist metaphor, man, I like that it’s against consumerism,” they might say.

No, why do you really like Fight Club?

“Uh, Edward Norton and Brad Pitt give incredibly nuanced…”

No.  Why do you really like the movie?

“Because of the fighting!  Because they fight!  In a club!  Oh God, why did daddy leave, why did daddy have to leave us?”

Woah, that got dark.  Since segues are for the French and people who lack confidence about their sexual virility (ha, but didn’t we say “the French” already?  Burn) just know that today’s fun fact is…

The Greatest Fights Between Great American Figures (That Never Happened) (That We Wish Happened)

“More like a house divided against itself cannot stand another ass whooping like the one I just dished out!  Boooom!  Classic Lincoln-Zinger.  Oh..oh wow, you’re actually…yeah you’re bleeding really bad…Oh…”

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The Art of the Man Hug

“Dude?”

~Dude

Every great nation, and every historical era, has bred specific social groups that follow seemingly arbitrary social guidelines.  Frontiersmen in the Wild West (or Jim fucking Bowie or Andrew “Straight-Up-Killer” Jackson) followed an elaborate series of rules and regulations for duels.  British dandies were supposed to look like girls or something.  Hippies chose to look and smell disgusting at all times.  No, seriously.  They can never be clean.

GOD that decade was a mess.

As America surges ever deeper into the 21st century, various socially prevalent groups have taken their niche positions in American culture, but one trait is shared by the males of every one of these groups.  That would be the ability, and willingness, to perform the Man Hug.

The man hug is for men what naked pillow fighting is for women- namely, an important affirmation of one’s gender that should be done far more frequently and in the most public places possibly.  But it is more than just a greeting or a vehicle for the term “No homo” to gain notoriety.  No, it exists as a manly and American greeting for 50% of our nation’s population, since apparently people get uncomfortable when you slap their ass.  Yeah, we’re looking at you, Frank, you know you liked it.

The Man Hug is so important to America that there’s even a how-to video for it on the internet.  That places “Man Hugs” on a level of importance in American society between knowing how to tie your own tie, and knowing how to start a grill.

So we feel it is our duty, as Americans, to teach the male readers out there how to properly perform a Man Hug.  Some of you know how to do it naturally, some of you struggle with the concept.

The Man Hug hugs manages to be more personal than the too-formal handshake without the potential awkwardness of the too-much-of-a-chance-that-the-…you-know…-penises-might-touch regular hug.  According to Wikipedia, “The origin of this hug is not clear” which is clearly bullshit.

The Man Hug, or as it is more hilariously know, the Bro-Grab, Homie Hug, or Shug, was discovered in the early 1980’s when deodorant technology had yet to catch up with cocaine use.  The result was a lot of very sweaty, very friendly men who were wearing oddly expensive polyester blazers, which were often ruined for the evening by one poorly chosen hug.  Enter, the Man Hug, which minimized contact while allowing you to establish yourself as a close friend or confidant.

The Man Hug is easy to perform, and almost never results in the two dudes kissing.  All you have to do is follow these easy steps.

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Andrew Johnson’s Drunken Inauguration

“I got your Vice-Presidency riiiiight here.”

~Andrew Johnson

The America Fun Fact of the Day organization has taken a lot of heat from various public interest groups over the years, which is to be expected whenever a fresh, vibrant voice appears to lead the general public down the proper American path.  Native American groups really didn’t take kindly to our Super Bowl commercials that ran under the slogan, “Indians:  Stop Bitching and Be Thankful We Let You Have Casinos” (though, surprisingly, the media uproar over those spots was largely overshadowed by how much people inexplicably loathed those boring Groupon ads).  A lot of Eastern European groups tend to take umbrage with our bizarre inexplicable hatred towards Ukranians.  And, of course, we take a lot of heat from MADD for our supposedly controversial “High Fives for safe Buzzed drivers” program, and our, “Blowing a .08 isn’t nearly as big of a crime as blowing a .2, get over it America” advertising banners that we may or may not have placed on the MADD website for a time.

We didn’t earn any favors with this campaign either…

And of our many transgressions (people always tend to overlook our Condor fighting ring, which baffles us to no end) our stance towards alcohol (mainly that it’s awesome) tends to get a surprising amount of backlash.  Not that we care to address that backlash at the moment.  Let’s put it this way, 90% of the people that tell us, “Alcohol ruins lives” also list their favorite TV shows as being According to Jim, Two and a Half Men, and The Bachelor.  Call us cynical, but we’re not too worried about losing that demographic as readers.

This show got eight seasons.  EIGHT.  Yet Arrested Development got cancelled after three.  This message was sponsored by whiskey.  “Whiskey:  Drink me to forget.”

Alcohol is as American as drinking Alcohol, which, for those who have never read AFFotD, is incredibly American.  And that’s why we choose to salute one of the best moments in American Alcohol consumption.  The Vice-Presidential inauguration of Abraham Lincoln’s Vice President, Andrew Johnson.

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America Fun Fact of the Day 4/10- April 10th in American History

“What’s that?  100th day of the year?  Sure you can use that as a reason to drink today.  You know what else you can use as a reason?  THIS IS AMERICA DAMMIT!”

~Johnny Roosevelt, Editor-in-Chief of AFFotD

Today is April 10th, which sources tell us, is the 100th day of the year.  So, if your 2011 has been great, or terrible, either way that’s a cause to drink.  And as as result, we’re going to do something very special at the America Fun Fact of the Day offices here today.  We are going to let a separate AFFotD staffer inform you of what happened on previous April 10ths in America.  Except most of them will be in various states of drunk.  Don’t worry, we’ll let you know who you’re hearing from, and how much they’ve had to drink, and hopefully they’ll have done their research well enough that they’re not just drunkenly pulling shit out of their asses.

But then again, we can’t make any promises.

So, without further ado, here is…

The American History of April 10th in America (As Remembered By Drunk Americans)

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America’s Ugliest Vice-Presidents Part 2: #5-1

“FEAR MY IMPENDING DOOM.”

~#1 on the list of Ugliest Vice-Presidents

As we saw in yesterday’s AFFotD, there are a surprisnig amount of goofy looking Vice-Presidents.  and we’ve got nothing better to do than to keep on counting down.  So here, for your viewing pleasure (and we use that term lightly) are the five ugliest Vice-Presidents of American History.

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America Fun Fact of the Day 3/27- March 27th in American History

“Ugh, I don’t care.  Just have the research monkeys list off shit that happened today.  I need some aspirin.”

~A Very Hungover Johnny Roosevelt, Editor-in-Chief of AFFotD

Today is Sunday, which is a national day of “getting over Friday night and Saturday night” for many Americans, that 24 hour period where you re-hydrate and prepare yourself for another week at work.  At America Fun Fact of the Day, we go to the offices everyday, mainly because it’s got more impressive amenities than any home, and also because we just installed the world’s first vodka swimming pool.  Actually, the vodka swimming pool is the real draw currently.  Just think about that.  It’s a swimming pool.  Only instead of water, it’s vodka.  If you accidentally swallow the pool water, you don’t taste chlorine, you get wasted.  We’ve had to fish so many bodies out of it these past few weeks, but no one would dares ask to get rid of it.  We know the risks.

To be fair, it’s the next logical evolutionary step as far as pool based alcohol is concerned.

So despite the fact that we spend our time in the office, ignoring our “families,” “responsibilities in life,” and “going to the dentist, like, ever,” we do feel compelled to at least pretend to follow the traditional American work week structure.  That’s why, from Monday through Friday, we give you top notch content, discussing important issues like Andrew Jackson’s dueling habits, or how the Washington Monument looks like a dong.

But come the weekend, we tend to take our foot off the accelerator.  We’ll put a photo of the week here, or a clip show because we’re terrible people there, but we tend to prep ourselves for the following week of American Facts but just hopping into our vodka swimming pool, like that one scene in Ferris Bueller’s Day off.

You can interpret this how you want, but did you know that your body can absorb alcohol through its pours?  Well, you can.  There a whole bunch of places other than your mouth that alcohol can sneak into your bloodstream through.

So, we don’t really have the energy, or ibuprofen supplies to research a full, engrossing fun fact today.  Instead, we will present you…

The American History of March 27th in America

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Andrew Jackson Will Shoot You in the Face

“How have you not done a fun fact about me yet?  I ought to duel the shit out of you for that.”

~Andrew “Old Hickory” Jackson

Every day, Americans deal with opposition, antagonization, and frustration at the actions of their fellow man.  Some of us bite our tongue and move on, choosing to take the high road.  Some of us complain about perceived injustices until they feel their grievances have been addressed.  AFFotD writers just stare at the person responsible and say in an eerily intense manner, “You’re next, fucker,” while scribbling their name down on a sheet of paper labeled Enemy’s List (admittedly, this list is often vague, with entries like, “That popped collar tool who cut me in line at Costco that one time.”)

And of course, some truly great Americans just decide to shoot their problems in the face.  Americans like Andrew “Middle Names Are For People Who Aren’t Called Old Hickory” Jackson.

As seen here unfortunately portrayed by John Kerry

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Gary Mays, One Armed American Hero

“Arms are for pussies.”

~Gary Mays

A lot can be established about how great of an American you are by the nickname you’re able to earn.  Andrew Jackson was called “Old Hickory” because he beat the shit out of people with a hickory cane.  Hawkeye on M*A*S*H got his nickname due to a book that, though we’ve not read because, come on, we assume has to be about killing Indians since it’s called “The Last of the Mohicans.”  Lou Gehrig was called “The Iron Horse” because that’s just fucking awesome.

We here at AFFotD try, with limited success, to fashion appropriately badass American nicknames.  One of our staff writers just goes by “Hood” because he wears a hood over his head every day, which is sort of annoying, but the name stuck at least.  One of our accountants tried to get people to call him Fucksaw, but that never caught on.  Kiefer Sutherland only goes by the nickname “Jack fucking Bauer” and we wouldn’t have it any other way.

And when it comes to nicknames, and Americans, few top that of Gary “Bandit” Mays, a man who managed to get the awesome nickname normally only reserved for Burt Reynolds without having ever played professional sports.  Of course, this two sport athlete, who went toe-to-toe with Elgin Baylor, was a top prep star catcher who was a finalist for finalist for Washington D.C.’s best baseball prep star of the year, was unable to find luck in the big leagues, due to the prejudices of the world in the 1950’s.  As a black man, he was subjugated and unable to show his potential to the world.

He also had only one fucking arm, but trust us when we say that racial prejudice was the only thing that held him back.

Stub!

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Davy, Davy Crockett, King of the Wild Frontier

“If they make some sort of cheesy Disney TV show about me, just make sure they point out all the Injuns I’ve killed.

~Davy Crockett

There are certain images and phrases that are ingrained in the mind of every American.  “I cannot tell a lie,” “Four score and seven years ago,” and, “Remember the Alamo,” are likely the three most instantly recognizable.  And of the iconic American images, there is Lincoln’s stove-top hat, Washington’s wig, and Davy Crockett’s coonskin cap.  For a man who only served briefly as a Congressman, and who eventually was struck down by Mexicans at the age of 50, it is Davy Crockett’s legend that lingers as strong in the minds of America as that of our greatest founding fathers.  And why is this?

Because America loves a badass, especially one who does not fuck around.

Davy (Davyyy) Crockett was born on August 17, 1786 in Tennessee, having unfortunately missed out on his chance to kill Redcoats as a child by a few years.  David Crockett was named after his paternal grandfather, who was killed by Indians in 1777.  As soon as he was born, Davy Crockett crawled out of his parent’s home, wandered to a cliff, where he dropped a boulder on a passing Indian hunting party like a goddamn Looney Tunes gag.  Once the dust had settled, he giggled, “fuuuuck you.”  When Crockett was three years old, he fashioned a raccoon out of clay.  Satisfied with his craftsmanship, a Toddler Davy Crocket spit on his creation, as most frontiersmen spent most of their time either killing Indians or spitting on the ground.  When his saliva touched the sculpture, it sprang to life, becoming a flesh-and-blood raccoon.  An astonished Davy Crocket picked up the creature, momentarily in awe of what he created, before snapping its neck and making a hat out of it.  This is the reason why his coonskin cap gave Davy Crockett his powers.

When Crockett was in school at the age of 13, taking a break from killing Indians as a way to avenge his grandfather’s death, a child at his school embarrassed him on the first day, no doubt saying, “Davy Crockett?  Who’s that?”  Crockett proceeded to beat the shit out of the dude, and began skipping classes because he figured his teacher would give him a “whupping,” which of course would mean that Crockett would have to beat the shit out of his teacher as well.  When his father found out he was skipping classes, he was so enraged that Crockett had no choice but to run away from home, spending the next three years wandering through Tennessee, where he learned how to hunt and trap animals in between his impromptu Indian hunts.

When he returned at the age of 16, he saw his hometown was in shambled, suffering from an extreme case of Davy Crockett withdrawal.  Crockett’s father was so relieved that he only beat him lightly, using an open palm.  This was the most comforting display of father affection he had ever seen, and Crockett knew he was now a man.

In 1813, Crockett joined the Tennessee Militia, where he fought in the Creek War, a Civil War between rival Native American tribes.  Crockett was able to go about killing Indians, while also working with members of the Cherokee and Choctaw tribes as allies.  This gave him an inside knowledge of how Indians think, but also satiated his Indian revenge lust for some time.

After achieving the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, Crockett decided to pursue a career in politics.  When he lost his first run for Congress in 1824, an upset Davy Crockett decided to see how many bears he could kill in a year.  His number of 105 bear kills in a year was a world record, and would remain in the history books until the birth of C. Dale Petersen.

Davy Crocket was a man of principle.  Particular, the principle of, “Stay the fuck out of my way, or I will end you.”  Davy Crockett decided to take a break from his bear hunts to become a Congressman.  His main reason for doing so was so he could say shit in speeches like, “In one word I’m a screamer, and have got the roughest racking horse, the prettiest sister, the surest rifle and the ugliest dog in the district. I’m a leetle the savagest crittur you ever did see. My father can whip any man in Kentucky, and I can lick my father. I can outspeak any man on this floor, and give him two hours start. I can run faster, dive deeper, stay longer under, and come out drier, than any chap this side the big Swamp. I can outlook a panther and outstare a flash of lightning, tote a steamboat on my back and play at rough and tumble with a lion, and an occasional kick from a zebra.”  Seriously.

And zebras kick like a motherfucker

We at AFFotD have realized that we have yet to break the fourth wall in our customary fashion, so let’s take a moment here to say, haha, holy shit, can you believe that?  Davy Crockett is the kind of man who would break into song and dance if you ever caught him fucking your wife.  Davy Crockett doesn’t need an umbrella because rain is afraid to piss him off.  If you ever thought a negative thought about Davy Crockett, his ghost would appear and kick you right in the balls, and if you are a woman his ghost would pay for and supervise a lengthy sex change procedure just so he can show up again once the final surgery is completed to christen your new balls with a fresh kick to them.  If you ever asked Davy Crockett what time it is, he’d slap your face and then gallop away riding a puma.  Seriously, he started that speech by saying, “Who-Who-Whoop — Bow-Wow-Wow-Yough” which makes it seem less like he was giving a speech to Congress, and more like he was trying to get everyone to give him a beat for some sort of early-19th century precursor to freestyle rap.

So apparently Crockett has the prettiest sister, the meanest father, and can take an occasional kick from a fucking zebra.  It’s like a game, “Which of these crazy things has Davy Crockett actually said?”  You can play at home!

A. “I’m taller than a spruce, smell lovelier than an evergreen, and if I pop you in the mouth well that’s just me being polite by not knockin’ the ugly mess right off yer shoulders.”

B. “Pop, pop, pop!  Bom, bom, bom! Throughout the day.  No time for memorandums now.  Go ahead!  Liberty and independence forever!”

C. “Well, I got my cap and my rifle, and I can end you with either iffn’ I set my mind to it.”

D. “I find my dogs had a two-year-old bear down, a-wooling away on him; so I just took out my big butcher, and went up and slap’d it into him, and killed him without shooting.”

E. “Fellas, I’ve gone dancin’ with a bear and I’ve gone trappin’ for a woman, and ain’t either’s as easy as you’d be think’n.”

F.      “I told the people of my district that I would serve them as faithfully as I have done; but if not…you may all go to hell and I’ll go to Texas.”

If you guessed, “Well clearly he actually said B, D, and F, but you guys did a good job with A, C, and E, because those pretty much sound like something Crockett would say,” then you would be correct.  And by the way, B happens to be the last thing written down in his journal during the battle of the Alamo.  Fuckin’ A.

During his time in Congress, Crockett became political enemies with Andrew Jackson, refusing to be his “lap dog.”  Andrew Jackson has killed for less, but he was also smart enough to know that it’s not a good idea to get in a duel with a man who was able to shoot a bullet at an ax from 40 yards away and split the fucking bullet in half.  He primarily opposed Jackson on the Indian Relocation Act, probably because they’d be a lot tougher to chase down if they were moved West.  This opposition cost him a chance at reelection, to which he told everyone, “Well, fuck off, then,” (Quote F) and went off to Mexico, having grown tired of killing Indians and Bears, and wanting to upgrade to Mexicans.

Davy (Davyyyy) Crockett (King of the Wild Frontier) went down to the Alamo, bringing with him some dozens of armed Americans, including legendary pioneer Jim Bowie, the creator of the Bowie knife, as well as the inventor of the popular singer David Bowie.  In February of 1836, Crockett and his entourage arrived at the Alamo, where the garrisoned men were surprised to see an entire Mexican Army awaiting them.  While everyone thought to themselves, “shit shit shit shit shit shit shiiiiit,” Crockett and Bowie just smiled and prepared for the bloodbath.

The rest of the story is engrained in American History, the inevitable defeat against impossible odds of the Alamo.  After battle the Mexican siege for two weeks, the Mexican army broke through the walls on March 6th, killing every member of the Alamo Mission, though the overmatched members of the Alamo killed between 400 and 600 of the Mexican troops assaulting them, accounting for over one third of the attacking force.  There are two accounts of Davy Crockett’s final moments, both of which highlight the “Don’t fuck with me, assholes” spirit of David Crockett.  One account, from a former American Slave who worked as a cook for one of the Mexican officers, describes that David Crockett was found dead in the barracks, surrounded by, “No less than sixteen Mexican corpses,” with his knife buried in one of them.  This would not be surprising, since at the age of 50 Crockett would not be able to kill quite as many Mexicans as in his youth, but it’s still an impressive effort.

The second tale of his demise speculates that Crockett was captured, with an enraged Santa Anna demanding he be executed.  While this is often used to show Santa Anna as a ruthless military leader without honor, it does capture Crockett’s final words as, “I’m warning you boys, I’m a screamer.”  Either way, it can be decided that Davy Crockett left this world the same way he entered it- with a big “Fuck you” to a large group of minorities.

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