Tag Archives: America

The Cure For a Night at a Vegan Restaurant

“…is…is this a trick?”

~REDACTED

Last week, we sent an Undercover Investigative journalist into the most evil place we could imagine- a Vegan restaurant.  We redacted the staff member’s name, because we knew that consuming Vegan food would leave an irreparable mark on his permanent record.  But what we saw…it, well it haunted us.  We saw a man reduced to rubble, not even afforded the decency of being allowed to chug a glass of bacon grease after his tofu crab cakes.  He was given bowls full of warmed, liquid vegetables, normally only reserved for prisoners at Guantanamo Bay.

Our senior staff members watched the hidden camera footage of poor REDACTED as he suffered through a five course meal of nothing but vegetables, tofu, and succubi.  It was painful to watch.  “Oh God, he’s losing his mind out there,” Harrison Ford, our aviation editor, sighed.

“He’s eating it!  Oh God, HE’S EATING IT!” Bruce Willis, our Barefoot Security Chief, began screaming.

“He’s going down in flames!” JFK III, the unknown-to-the-public grandson of JFK, exclaimed (it might sound like he was being insensitive, but man, you should hear how many airplane jokes the kid makes, it’s a bit fucked up).

“What have we done?  What have we become?” Johnny Roosevelt asked, bowing his head sadly.  We thought that REDACTED was done for.  He was drooling on himself, he started weeping for minutes at a time, he didn’t even crack a smile when he started slapping the waiter while screaming, “YOUR NAME IS BRIAN!  SAY IT!  FUCKING SAY IT!”

Vegans dress ridiculously.

We thought we might have lost him, and would have to chisel his name on our wall of fallen staff members, along such illustrious names as Hunter S. Thompson and Interns #1 through 354 (Interns are sort of the Spinal Tap drummers of our operation).  But there was a minor miracle, as REDACTED ran for freedom, fighting every vegetable-laden impulse telling his body to just give up, and he found the Mecca that is White Castle.  After a dozen sliders, our medical staff was on the scene, pumping him full of liquefied beef and various animal souls.  It was touch and go for a while, but REDACTED made it through.  When he recovered, we decided, one week after they day of his darkest hour, to give him a token of our appreciation.  Because we at AFFotD take care of our own.

So here, we present, REDACTED‘s night of American redemption.

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Jim Bowie Will Gut You Like a Fish

“I’m not saying I’ll gut you like a fish but…well, no, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

~Jim Bowie

After yesterday’s Fun Fact regarding Davy Crockett, it might come as a surprise to see another Fun Fact about a similar topic.  Why?  Maybe it’s because today is  the 175th Anniversary of the beginning of the Battle of the Alamo or something (wait, we have to check that.  Holy shit, it is?  We were just pulling that out of our asses…)  And it could be because the people behind the Alamo were some of the greatest American champions of all time.  Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because Jim Bowie was such an unmitigated badass who invented a knife best suited to murder polar bears and decided to use it on people that we couldn’t wait any longer before giving him his proper, AFFotD due.

Plus he kind of looks like John C. Reilly

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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.

Wherein AFFotD Discovers an Erroneous Discussion of America’s Greatness By a Dastardly Foe of the Moniker “The Health Ranger” Who Threatens Our Very Way of American Excellence Through Cowardly Ideals

“Seriously, are you guys going out of your way to find articles like this just to piss me off?”

~Johnny Roosevelt, AFFotD Editor-in-Chief

Other publications pretend to know what’s “American” (COUGH FORTUNE MAGAZINE COUGH), and they generally have distressing views on what they feel makes this country great.  Rarely is whiskey mentioned, knife fighting is virtually nonexistent, and C. Dale Petersen as always remains below the radar (which, to be fair, is how he prefers it).  But it’s not every day that we stumble across an article that leaves us convinced that it is an act of sabotage against the American way of awesomeness.  An article that is so inconceivably un-American that to call it “Why America is Still a Great Place to Live:  Thirteen Things I Love About this Country” is more insulting to us than watching someone take a piss on the National Monument.  But here we have Mike Adams, who goes by the name “The Health Ranger,” deciding to tell us what’s great about America for a site called…Natural News?  Just take a look at all the things that are wrong about this picture.

First of all…nature?  Fuck nature.  How many times do we have to say that?  Plus, the site has more half-assed ads for questionable products meant to rip you off than a Scientology phone book.  But look in the top left corner (wait…shit, which one is left…Make the L’s, make the L’s with your hands) yeah, the top left corner.  Do you see what we see?  CHINESE!?  SPIES!  THEY’RE SPIES!  When we’re all stuck speaking Chinese in 2035, you can blame Natural News for paving the way.

So right off the bat, we have some concerns.  Plus, everything is green, but it’s that “Save mother Gaia” bullshit shade of green, not that “Money, bitches!” shade of green.  Besides, the title seems to imply that there’s something wrong with loving America.  Why did he throw the word “still” in there?  It should be “Why America is a Great Place to Live” with a picture of someone doing push-ups with one hand while chugging a beer.  We…hesitantly began reading the article, even though the author sort of looks like Lance Armstrong if he had been born in Wisconsin and once got out of date rape charges.

“Ha ha!  Plausible Deniability!”

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Babe Didrikson Could Kick Your Ass

“They say it’s unladylike to play professional sports.  But, they also say it is unladylike to bite the head off of bats.  Which I do just about everyday.”

~Babe Didrikson Zaharias

While flipping through some old timey newspapers, a few of our interns stumbled across a photo of one of the more American looking people they had ever seen.  In a track and field uniform, with a snarl and a javelin, we saw a square jaw and a stare that said, “If you fucking touch me, I will end you.”  It haunts us to this very day.

“Who is that guy, and what did we do to piss him off?” we all thought aloud (which is more “speaking” then “thinking” when you think about it).  And as we studied this picture, wondering if we had unleashed some sort of voodoo vengeance curse upon the office, AFFotD’s “pretend to be in advertising guy” Jon Hamm came through with a sudden revelation.

“Holy shit, you guys.  That’s a chick.  That chick looks like she’d kill any of us for looking at her the wrong way.”

John Hamm was right.  We could see the distinctive femininity (boobs) that was masked by her dead-cold death glare.  After some digging, we discovered that this was none other than Babe Didrikson, two-time gold medalist, Hall of Fame golfer, and 5 time AP Female Athlete of the year.

We here at America Fun Fact of the Day came to the realization that in our entire history, we have not done a fun fact about a member of the fairer sex.  There is no rhyme or reason behind it, other than the fact that statistically there are more male Lion Hunters than female Lion Hunters, but American History is chalked full of Sexy Ladies doing Dangerous Feats of Awesome.  So it was high time we at least gave proper respect to one of them, especially if it looked like her eyes were hate raping us from beyond the grave.

On your mark, get set…don’t even fucking try it

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Popcorn Sutton, Moonshining Hero

“I’ll get ya drunk faster than a pie’ll get yanked from a windowsill.”

~Marvin “Popcorn” Sutton

While the America Fun Fact of the Day offices break numerous laws, regulations, and religious commandments on a daily basis (Hell, just to get into our lobby you have to punch the captured endangered Condor that we have caged up as a door handle) we tend to find it unnerving when our activities that we believe to be “legal” are, in fact, not.  In this case, apparently moonshining is illegal.  Not only is it illegal, it’s been explicitly illegal since the 19th century.  This was conveniently overlooked by the man who helped us install our moonshining operation, Marvin “Popcorn” Sutton, who was even more American than we could have possibly imagined.  And that’s saying something, because he looked like this.

That beard is so glorious that OTHER beards live in his beard.

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The “Are You American” Quiz

“Congratulations, you have won Jeopardy!   Did I mention that when I was in my 40s, I married a 27 year old woman?”

~Alex Trebek


As fine purveyors of all things American, sometimes it is necessary for America Fun Fact of the Day writers to take a step back and think about what America means to them.  Yes, it is a country, a way of life, and the creator of all things awesome.  This we know.  We know that we are Americans, either by blood or by love, and our fervor for this hunk of a continent knows no equal.

But every once and a while, a non-American tries to infiltrate our ranks.  Yes, Ivan Drago might stroll in, Carl Weathers in tow, and start to beat him mercilessly in front of us while saying, “If you do not hire me….he dies.”  And as he tells us about the time where robbers broke into his house, tied up his wife, and then left without taking anything just because they saw a picture of him in the house and realized, “Holy shit, Ivan Drago’s going to kill us when he finds out,” we might fool ourselves into thinking, “Yes, maybe he is American.”  But then, we remember Rocky beating the shit out of him to win the Cold War, and the fact that the name “Dolph” is a pretty shitty name.  And since you are able to read “Dolph Lundgren has a shitty name, fuck you Dolph Lundgren” without his hand punching through your computer and breaking your nose, that means that he is clearly not American enough.  And we were right to not hire him for that reason, and we totally sent Mrs. Weathers a really nice bouquet of flowers for the funeral.

Since other people can mask their accents, or not be named “Dolph,” we sometimes have to take the psychological route to determine who among us are truly American.  It is for that reason that you, dear readers, will be able to take our handy “Are You American” quiz.  It’s full of questions meant to separate the Patriots from the Portuguese, the Americans from the Albanians, and the Freedoms from the….French.

All french people are mimes.  True story.

So please take our test below.  For each multiple choice question, A is worth 0 points, B is worth 1 point, C is worth 3 points, and D is worth 5 points.  So add up your score, and check our scoring guide at the bottom of the page.  Good luck trying to pass this test, comrade.

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Vegan Restaurants: Why Do They Hate America? An Undercover Exposé

“No, anything but this assignment.  ANYTHING BUT THIS ASSIGNMENT!”

~REDACTED

As journalists, we take our duty to the public very seriously.  This nation has over 300 million residents, and not all of them understand the American nature of chugging a beer after dropping a hot dog into it (we call it dog bombing, and it requires a relaxed esophagus and a particular blindness to shame.)  So sometimes, we have to rub elbows with those that operate outside our rules.  Those that shun hot dogs, hamburgers, steak even.  To really get inside the heads of those that spurn these things that are so inherently American, we needed to do a little investigative journalism.  Much like Nellie Bly risked torture to uncover the evils of the mental health system in the 1800’s, Gunter Wallraff spent two years to uncover the human rights violation against immigrants in Germany, and Larry David smuggled himself onto the set of Hannah Montana to discover Billy Ray Cyrus’ evil sex dungeon, our investigators were required to go above and beyond the call of duty.

That’s right.  We sent someone into the Dragon’s Lair.  We sent someone…to a vegan restaurant.

Truly…the thing of our nightmares

And now, for the shocking truth behind a restaurant that dares not to serve meat…eggs…or cheese, here is the report from our Undercover reporter, whose name has been redacted so that his family would not leave him upon discovering he had consumed food that never took advantage of an animal at any point in it’s preparation.  Here is his shocking tale.

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Glorious Homeless Americans

“Gahhh habal heaeg gwaaarrrrk!”

~That Smelly Guy on the Bus


Every nation has its levels of despondency, where the rich and the poor are separated by a nearly impossible chasm of social status.  Some are fortunate enough to have riches beyond our wildest hopes and dreams, while others are forced to live on the streets, trying to find or get enough money to scrape by.  In nations such as Italy, the homeless bow down in silent penance, hoping for a kind stranger to hear their wordless plea.

But fuck that noise, America does it right.  That’s right, America is home to the craziest sons of bitches you’ve ever seen homeless.  There is a rich history of American crazy homeless people, the best of whom have quirky names and known habits.  The University of Illinois, for example, has a homeless character named The Rebel.  Northwestern has an overweight homeless person named “Big” who the rest of the homeless population despises.  And of course, there is shoeshine Lenny, who rides on a bike to inform you that he is shoeshine Lenny, and he doesn’t have any, but if you help him out, someday, we’ll all have plenty.

These people breath a special brand of crazy that only America can breed, and today, America Fun Fact of the Day salutes them.

At ease, hobo.

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John Wayne’s Pretty Darn American, Pard’ner

“Well listen here, pardner, she was just a stripper, she had no family, she can just disappear…”

~John “Marion” Wayne

In the classic song, “A Boy Named Sue,” Johnny Cash tells the story about a boy who had been given the unfortunate first name of “Sue” by a deadbeat father who he had never met.  Throughout the course of this epic piece of American music, Cash describes how the boy named Sue was forced to fight his way through school, due to the ridicule he received for his name, until he grew up to be a hardened man who could take on anyone.  Little did Johnny Cash know, but he was actually describing the story of another famous American who was born with a girl’s name.

That man would be Marion Mitchell Morrison, a.k.a. John Wayne.

This is the look of a man who has had sex with women he shares the same name with

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