By James Buchanan, The 15th President of The United States
Whew. It’s been a really long 156 years, but I have to say, but finally it feels pretty darn good.
Although there have been so many enjoyable experiences in my post-life times — wherever you’d call where I am, I don’t know, but the Cosmopolitans are to die for, so to speak — I’m no longer stuck with the title “Worst President Ever.”
Sure, I got my hopes up a lot of times: Andy Johnson made such a mess and then Warren Harding really looked promising until he got “sick” and died. Jimmy Carter — who told him to wear that sweater? — ended up having some redeeming qualities. George W. Bush also seemed like a possibility with that war of his, but he helped old folks get drug coverage and that counts for something.
So, there I was stuck — 156 years and counting as worst President of the United States — and figured with Hillary getting elected, she wouldn’t have been anything great (and Lord, the woman needs someone to dress her), but she wouldn’t have moved me up in the rankings, either.
And then — what none of us ever saw coming — you somehow elected Donald Trump.
Lincoln hasn’t said a word since election day, he just sits in the corner and shakes his head. Teddy Roosevelt wants to invade D.C. and “slap some people around.” Kennedy, on the other hand, when he’s not, uh, occupied, thinks its the funniest thing ever. “I saved them from the Cuban Missile Crisis and they elected that guy?” as he blows cigar smoke everywhere.
JFK has kind of a point. Goodness knows there were elections, even in my time, where you held your nose and voted. But — and the first couple of months bears this out — this guy makes me look OK, and I oversaw states leaving the union and the start of the Civil War.
I may have been a overwhelmed by circumstance (hey, you try dealing with South Carolina, they were nuts then and frankly still are — why they didn’t end up a penal colony after the Civil War is lost on me) but what we’re seeing now is a whole order worse.
And in fairness, I did come from Pennsylvania — the only president to do so — and all you have to do is look at your current state legislature (Scott Wagner’s claim about the Earth moving closer to the sun is just the latest run to the crazy side of town — let’s face it, Pennsylvania’s best and brightest don’t go into politics, they leave the state as quickly as possible) to know what a handicap that can be.
And even with my flaws — and remember, South Carolina, not my fault — I always acted like a grown up and with a bit of decorum. God knows I even dressed better than that Trump guy — suits that look like they were designed by Hefty and Scotch Tape on the tie? Unbelievable.
On policy, I don’t even know where to begin with this new guy.
But I am really, really thankful. For not being the worst, any more.
Editor’s Note: James Buchanan remains dead since 1868 and as such, likely didn’t write this. But he would like to wish you a Happy April Fools’ Day.
After 156 years, I’m no longer the worst
By James Buchanan, The 15th President of The United States
Whew. It’s been a really long 156 years, but I have to say, but finally it feels pretty darn good.
Although there have been so many enjoyable experiences in my post-life times — wherever you’d call where I am, I don’t know, but the Cosmopolitans are to die for, so to speak — I’m no longer stuck with the title “Worst President Ever.”
Sure, I got my hopes up a lot of times: Andy Johnson made such a mess and then Warren Harding really looked promising until he got “sick” and died. Jimmy Carter — who told him to wear that sweater? — ended up having some redeeming qualities. George W. Bush also seemed like a possibility with that war of his, but he helped old folks get drug coverage and that counts for something.
So, there I was stuck — 156 years and counting as worst President of the United States — and figured with Hillary getting elected, she wouldn’t have been anything great (and Lord, the woman needs someone to dress her), but she wouldn’t have moved me up in the rankings, either.
And then — what none of us ever saw coming — you somehow elected Donald Trump.
Lincoln hasn’t said a word since election day, he just sits in the corner and shakes his head. Teddy Roosevelt wants to invade D.C. and “slap some people around.” Kennedy, on the other hand, when he’s not, uh, occupied, thinks its the funniest thing ever. “I saved them from the Cuban Missile Crisis and they elected that guy?” as he blows cigar smoke everywhere.
JFK has kind of a point. Goodness knows there were elections, even in my time, where you held your nose and voted. But — and the first couple of months bears this out — this guy makes me look OK, and I oversaw states leaving the union and the start of the Civil War.
I may have been a overwhelmed by circumstance (hey, you try dealing with South Carolina, they were nuts then and frankly still are — why they didn’t end up a penal colony after the Civil War is lost on me) but what we’re seeing now is a whole order worse.
And in fairness, I did come from Pennsylvania — the only president to do so — and all you have to do is look at your current state legislature (Scott Wagner’s claim about the Earth moving closer to the sun is just the latest run to the crazy side of town — let’s face it, Pennsylvania’s best and brightest don’t go into politics, they leave the state as quickly as possible) to know what a handicap that can be.
And even with my flaws — and remember, South Carolina, not my fault — I always acted like a grown up and with a bit of decorum. God knows I even dressed better than that Trump guy — suits that look like they were designed by Hefty and Scotch Tape on the tie? Unbelievable.
On policy, I don’t even know where to begin with this new guy.
But I am really, really thankful. For not being the worst, any more.
Editor’s Note: James Buchanan remains dead since 1868 and as such, likely didn’t write this. But he would like to wish you a Happy April Fools’ Day.
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