Tippecanoe and Douchecanoe!

John Tyler – our country’s tenth president. Arguably the WORST PRESIDENT EVER.

Having suffered through both Bush administrations, it takes cojones to say that there was actually a president worse than the either of them.

Who’s Katrina? I’m on vacation, dammit!

 

But you know something is amiss when a president has 15 children.

John Tyler is known as being one of the most God awful presidents in us history. For a plethora of reasons, which I’ll discuss here.

But first.

Fifteen children. Jumpin’ Jesus on a pogo stick.

He was not even an Orthodox Jew.  And let me tell you, I’m Jewish – but Orthodox? Those people procreate like a motherfucker. Never before have I seen a mother and a daughter simultaneously pregnant. It’s disturbing.

I’m not suggesting a president should be celibate; actually, politicians have to be married and have children to be taken seriously. This is how they begin to shed their slimy attorney snake skin and gain reputability.

It’s also how my home state of New Jersey ended up with a gay governor married to a woman.

Fridays, he’s implementing stem cell research plans for New Jersey. Saturdays, he’s getting ass fucked at Vishara on 48th St in Manhattan.  It’s…unsettling.

Back to Tyler.

15 children?

If you’re getting some stank on the hang down with such alarming frequency that you manage to impregnate a woman 15 times, how on EARTH can you possibly concentrate on any executive decisions?

I’m a history nerd.

I’m a nerd in general. Math. Literature. History. Whatever.

So  let’s start with the man himself.

Surly motherfucker, no? Look at that puss on his face. Does that look like a man getting it on the regular? This grim bastard looks like he has to pay for hand jobs.

The guy should be grinning ear to ear. Cause if he actually sired 15 kids, this guy was pounding the punnani pavement constantly. So, lighten up, Johnny T!

Oh, even if you’re not a history nerd, you HAVE to have heard of his campaign slogan:

“Tippecanoe and Tyler Too”

Tippecanoe and Tyler too?

What the shit snacking crackers does that mean?

Is a tipping canoe a good thing? I’ve been in one. It is not a pleasurable experience. It did not make me feel safe in the SLIGHTEST. Why would men running for the top two executive offices of the goddamned country want to conjure up the image of people about to drown?

That would be like Woodrow Wilson and Thomas Marshall, running for election in post-Titantic 1912,  with this asinine campaign slogan:

WE’RE UNSINKABLE!

It’s based on a stupid song, which was based on a battle fought and won at Tippecanoe. In the grand tradition of the leaders of our country going in and fucking decimating Native Americans faster than you can say “ethnocentric genocide.” Yay, us!

It doesn’t even matter. Because the Tippecanoe in question was William Henry Harrison. The idiot DIED after one month in office.

He gave what was known as the LONGEST INAUGURAL SPEECH IN HISTORY. In the freezing cold. Without a coat, so His Excellency could seem like he had a big pair of presidential testicles .

And then DIED, one month later. Of pneumonia.

Now, he has this idiotic Virginian aristocrat afterbirth as his Vice President.

Nobody’s sure why. Maybe Harrison thought he could get in on some of that shaboink boink. But now, the county is left without a president.

And sour puss Tyler decides, without any formal official precedent being set, that HE will now be the president.

Of course, many years later, this was in fact what was set as official policy. But at the time, this dude just took over.

Good to know. When Bruce Springsteen strokes out under the bench press machine at the gym, I’m going to be “THE BOSS” from now on. Because I SAY SO.

This guy’s politics were so shady, he claimed to be part of a political party that he didn’t even support. The Whigs.

I won’t bore you with their rhetoric, but they have a great name. The Whigs. Like a bunch of middle-aged dudes rockin’ out. The opening act for “Midlife Crisis.”

Tyler, having run and won as a Whig, now opposes the complete Whig platform and vetoes all Whig party proposals. And his ENTIRE CABINET ups and quits.

You know you’re a douchecanoe when your whole cabinet quits. Not just the island, or the counter top. The whole cabinet.

Look, the guy started his presidency  known as “His Accidency.” Not particularly flattering.

And for shits and giggles? He was the only president in the history of the US to die a traitor.  After his presidency he retired from politics until the outbreak of the Civil War.

He sided with the Confederates, because what with all the deprivation and hunger, the plantations burning and able-bodied men dying, who wouldn’t? and won election to the Confederate House of Representatives shortly before his death.

And was pronounced a traitor. And died one.

But I still want to get back to what a HORN DOG he was.

So, he’s fucking his way through his presidency. Making babies and whatnot. Not knowing what party line he’s supposed to be touting, or whether Texas is, in fact, even a state.

And then his wife dies.

Poor, poor John. Who’s he gonna spread the mayo with now?

He’s fifty. Guess what he does?

Yes. He does.

He goes after a 19 year old girl.

Eeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

What a degenerate. If he were alive today, he’d own a Greek diner and keep losing it in a card game.

But wait. This gets EVEN BETTER.

I love a good conspiracy theory. A conspiracy theory is amazing when you’re on dope. Ohhh, the things you figure out. They’re great when you’re straight, too.

What I love is a good conspiracy theory that connects presidents and the women they’re getting their horizontal refreshments from.

Like John F. Kennedy.

I hate the Kennedys. They were a bunch of philandering boozehounds.

Do you remember what happened when drunken whoremonger Ted Kennedy drove his car off the bridge in Chappaquiddick?  

Neither does Mary Jo Kopechne.

Anyway, getting back to beloved JFK. C’mon,  people! He was doing Marilyn.  And the moment she wiggled onto the stage at Madison Square Garden, practically felating the microphone, and sang a porno version of Happy Birthday to her Johnny?

She. Didn’t. Stand. A. Chance.

You know they killed her. Please.

And John Tyler? Well, he’s this disgusting, wrinkly 50-year-old. (I’m sorry, I don’t really feel that way. I’m personally completely attracted to 50-year-old men. They’re HOT. But NOT WHEN I WAS 19).

And he’s lusting after a teenager. Just picture that, men. Picture your 19-year-old daughter, your beautiful pride and joy. Now picture some 50-year-old sweating and groaning on top of her.

He takes this girl, and her father, on a cruise.

And very conveniently, just at the right moment, has cannons fired on the deck where her father is. Killing him.

And when she learns of his death, J.T. is standing RIGHT next to her, and catches her when she faints. (Oh, how romantic. He probably fucked up his sciatica for a week.)

And after that, because she was a little lost girl, she married him. Another little girl with a father complex.

“Oh, fuck me, Daddy.” Not that I would know anything about THAT.

Now, the horndog, still in office, continues pounding all that duck, and has 7 MORE kids. Did they not have birth control in those days? Blow jobs?  Titty fucks?

His 8 kids from the prior marriage didn’t come to the wedding. I think they were upset that daddy was marrying a girl the same age as his grandkids.

What a magnificnet specimen! What an honorable man!

The last child he had at 70. That is some jacked up Tony Randall nastiness.

And this is guy who began the tradition of having them play “All Hail the Chief” when a president enters the room.

This ass clown.

Chief what? Cocksman? Murderer? Pervert? Traitor?

Chief Douchecanoe.

And to think, this whole tirade started because Little Dude had a Snapple.  And the fun factoid inside the cap told him that John Tyler had 15 children, more than any other president. And that he had the last one when he was 70 years of age.

Dear Snapple,

Please. There are some things a 10-year-old does not need to know.

Sincerely,

A Concerned Mother

I threw up in my mouth a little when I read this

 

Which president do you think was the worst? Talk to me. I’m listening.