Tag Archives: Boston

Boston Corbett: The (Insane) Killer Of John Wilkes Booth

“I mean, yeah.”

Boston Corbett, when asked “like, are you crazy, or?”

boston corbett

So, let’s talk about history, shall we?  American history, naturally, because that’s the best kind, and all you “our church was made in 1103, and our beer has been brewed for a thousand years” European ninnys can hand us the beer, sure, but otherwise shut your damn mouths.  American history is great, largely because, and we can’t believe how this gets glossed over in our Social Studies books in elementary school, but it is deeply weird a lot of the time.  Like, we once had a president die because he drank a bunch of milk and ate too many cherriesDied!  A real honest-to-God Commander-in-Chief died doing an impression of someone who plays Pac Man but keeps wanting to be able to eat the ghosts.

So the point is, American history is awesome, and entertaining, and deeply, deeply weird, and we at America Fun Fact of the Day embrace that, because it means that every day we can come across something we didn’t know that suddenly becomes our new favorite fact.

For example, Boston Corbett, the man who shot and killed Abraham Lincoln’s assassin, was a self-castrated soldier driven mad by mercury poison.  Let’s talk about that motherfucker, right?  Okay then!

Boston Corbett:  The (Insane) Killer Of John Wilkes Booth

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The Regional Italian and Submarine Sandwiches of America: New England and New York

“Subway—it’s..it’s fine. I mean, it’s Subway.  It was open.”

~Rejected slogan for Subway

sub sammich

For nearly a century, the Americanized Italian sandwich has played a pivotal role in filling our bellies efficiently and deliciously.  Cold cuts, cheese, lettuce, onion, and tomato, all shoved into a sliced loaf of Italian bread and drizzled with oil and seasoning, has long been the default, “I don’t know what I feel like for lunch, eh, I’ll just get a sandwich” lunch choice for generations of workers.

Widely known as the Submarine Sandwich, it goes by about 17 different names in different regions throughout America, with dozens of additional variants from people who want hot sandwiches or beef doused in it’s own juices in elongated sandwich form.  While many long roll sandwiches end to differ in name only (subs, meet hoagies, you are the same), others are radically different and even manage the eschew cold cuts entirely, but all are delicious and American.  So instead of awkwardly stumbling through the history of the “submarine, or, uh, grinder, or, uh…” sandwich, we’re going to look into each type of this classic meat delivery system in the hopes that, that by showing our differences, we can bring our nation together.  By spending some 11,000 words talking about sandwiches that are shoved into Italian bread or rolls over the course of four articles.  We’ve got a lot of ground to cover, over 25 types of sandwiches total, but first, let’s start from the beginning.

The Regional Italian and Submarine Sandwiches of America:  New England and New York

sangwitch

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The Boston Molasses Disaster of 1919

“It’s EVERYWHERE!  Oh God…it’s so STICKY…”

~Boston, 1919

Americans are not above tragedy.  Even the most American of us have been knocked down in their prime, while others slowly fade away into obscurity.  But one thing remains constant, there are certain fates that feel more American to befall an individual than others.  Various cultures have their own cultural expectations for loss, and some tragedies can be painted with a silver lining that can give solace to the rest of us.  When a building collapses, it shocks and saddens us, but when we find out that an aggressive orgy was the reason for the building’s collapse, we at least knew that the victims went down swinging.

Which brings us to one of the most delicious fatal disasters in American history.  We are referring to, of course, the Boston Molasses Disaster of 1919.

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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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