#36 Lyndon B. Johnson (1963-1969) Dick Waving Psychopath

Who was Uncle Cornpone?  A dick waving psychopath, that’s who.  Uncle Cornpone was a paranoid manic-depressive.  Uncle Cornpone was the president 1960’s America deserved.  Born to shit poor parents, Uncle Cornpone was an awkward talkative child whom his grandmother predicted would end up in prison.  In the eleventh grade he was elected class president, which put the idea in his head of becoming the real thing.  He spent the rest of his crazy life striving for that goal.  The first thing any good president needs is a wife, so Uncle Cornpone hounded Claudia Taylor until she agreed to marry him.  He then made her change her named to Lady Bird so she’d have the same initials as him.  He then gave all their children the same initials as well.  Hell, even the dog was given a name with the initials LBJ. 

Politics is a game of wit and wiles, but Uncle Cornpone had neither, so instead he dominated people by giving them what became known as the Johnson Treatment, which involved Uncle Cornpone invading someone’s personal space, leaning way in, waggling his eyebrows, and constantly changing the volume of his voice at unpredictable intervals from whisper to scream.  If that didn’t do the trick, Uncle Cornpone would just pull out his dick, which he affectionately called Jumbo.  It was a political career fueled by spitting, cursing, and sixty cigarettes a day.  When Uncle Cornpone had a heart attack and had to quit smoking, he just doubled down on the spitting and cursing.  This somehow led to him bad mouthing his way to being Sexotron’s VP.  Neither man was a big fan of the other.  When Sexotron got shot, Uncle Cornpone got his dream.  He was finally president.   

Despite being president, Uncle Cornpone never forgot his humble origins.  The man peed whenever the notion took him, no matter where he was, or who was around him.  He once even peed on the leg of one of his Secret Service agents.  During meetings, when Uncle Cornpone had to have a bowel movement, he didn’t stop the meeting.  Instead, he forced people to come into the bathroom with him.  When he wasn’t happy, he would belch and fart to show his displeasure.  Uncle Cornpone’s diplomatic style began and ended with his dick.  He’d often skinny dip with visiting dignitaries to establish what he called ‘genital domination’.  When dick politics failed to work, Uncle Cornpone would resort to physical violence, once even assaulting the Prime Minister of Canada.  When he wasn’t waving his dick around, Uncle Cornpone kept busy sticking it in every White House secretary he could get his hands on, something his wife was not only okay with, but almost encouraged.   Despite what the above may suggest, Uncle Cornpone was a very hygienic man.  He forced the White House plumber to spend five years designing a special shower which shot high pressured jets of water right at Jumbo and right up Uncle Cornpone’s ass.  We’re not sure what he named his ass.    

After being elected for his own term in 1964, Uncle Cornpone decided not to run again in 1968.  The day he left office he took back up smoking cigarettes, grew his hair out, and started getting fat.  Uncle Cornpone’s retirement was largely spent writing his memoirs, pretending to drive his car into a lake to freak out visitors, and making random 3:00 AM phone calls.  For reasons not understood by medical science, Uncle Cornpone’s health began to deteriorate rapidly, and after months of constant chest pains, he died of a heart attack in his bed, his hand reaching towards the phone for one last late night call.  

Image: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:President_Johnson_Cabinet_Room_July_1965.jpg

#35 John F. Kennedy (1961-1963) Sex Addict

Let’s just get it out of the way.  This man was most definitely some kind of sex robot sent from the future to make love to as many women as humanly possible.  The guy couldn’t go three days without getting some strange.  Anyways, Sexotron Model JFK69 was born to an extremely wealthy family headed by his father Joe; a bootlegging, womanizing, Nazi sympathizer; who raised all of his sons with the specific aim of making at least one of them president.  He also lobotomized one of his daughters, but that’s another story not covered in this illustrious document.  Anyways, Sexotron was a sickly child.  He was always in and out of school due to some disabling malady.  By the time he turned thirty-seven, he had been given last rites three times.  His health problems were not helped by the fact that one of his legs was shorter than the other, resulting in a life time of back trouble.  

When World War II broke out, Sexotron was in too poor of health to join the military, but his rich dad’s friends got him into the Navy and made him the captain of a patrol boat in the South Pacific anyway.  This PT boat promptly got run over by a Japanese destroyer.  After the war, Sexotron, on his father’s insistence (and money), got into politics.  To help his political career, Sexotron married a newspaper photographer named Jackie Bouvier.  This in no way slowed down Sexotron in his mission to pork everything that moved.  Jackie, being a good political wife, turned a blind eye and bad mouthed him in French.  In 1960, Sexotron fulfilled his father’s dream and ran for president, winning because America found him just so damn charming and handsome.   

A lot of stuff happened while Sexotron was president, but he probably didn’t remember quite a bit of it given that he was always wiped out on pain medications.  For Sexotron, the presidency was a never ending soiree; booze and marijuana with the rich and famous, flings with socialites and movie stars, naked pool parties with an army of secretaries and interns (many of whom had no official duties other than satiating Sexotron’s unending lusts), and so on.  When not sexing it up, Sexotron spent his time sailing, reading James Bonds books, taking his personal bathroom scale on every trip, doodling during important meetings, trying to learn French (so he could understand what his wife was saying about him), secretly recording every conversation in the Oval office, and smoking four to five cigars a day.  Sexotron also promoted children’s fitness, though it was probably just to ensure he wouldn’t have to sleep with any fatties twenty years in the future.   

Unfortunately, as they all do, Sexotron’s party came to an end.  Despite being extremely charming, there were a lot of people who did not like him.  In the three years he was president, there were four assassination attempts on his life, one of which involved being stalked by a crazy man with a car full of dynamite.  The fourth nut job did the trick.  Sexotron was killed by a gunshot to the head while riding around in his limousine with the top down. 

Image: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:John_F._Kennedy,_White_House_color_photo_portrait_(cropped_3x4)_A.jpg

#34 Dwight D. Eisenhower (1953-1961) My True Love Is A Flag

Duckpin, named after a game somewhat similar to bowling that he played all the damn time, was born into a poor family of Jehovah’s Witnesses.  Duckpin was originally named David, but after trying it out for a bit, his mother decided that David was a stupid name and that he should be named Dwight.  Finding Dwight too hard to remember, she then just started calling him Ike for short, a name she liked so much that she just started using it for all of his siblings as well.  When your mother calls you and all of your brothers the same name, you often find unique ways to differentiate yourself.  Duckpin did this by spending his childhood hanging out with an illiterate hobo who taught him how to fish and play cards.  Duckpin’s family were pacifists, so naturally he joined the Army and went to West Point.  He spent most of his time there ignoring his studies and playing every sport possible, except for baseball, because apparently fuck baseball. 

After leaving West Point, Duckpin went on vacation and met a woman named Mamie Doud.  He apparently decided that she was good enough because he married her a few months later.  When they exchanged vows, Duckpin let Mamie know that she would always come in second in his book behind the good old U.S. of A.  He then proceeded to drag her around the country for thirty-five years, moving about once a year.  For some reason, it was not a happy marriage.  Despite having never been in actual combat, when World War II broke out Duckpin got made leader of all Allied armies in Europe.  This probably had nothing to do with the fact that he often let his superiors win at cards.  Becoming the top general had its perks, such as a British fashion model for a personal driver.  The two of course had an affair, though it wasn’t a very salacious one considering Duckpin couldn’t get his flag to full staff.  Despite this, Duckpin wanted to marry his mistress/driver.  Like a good soldier he asked his superiors for permission to get a divorce.  They said no.       

After the war, everyone wanted Duckpin to be president.  He declined to run in 1948, but gave in and won by a landslide in both 1952 and 1956.  Duckpin spent most of his presidency fighting communists (again, both real and imaginary), making sure his three lucky coins were always in his pocket, painting so-so portraits of his wife (his general attitude towards her probably didn’t help), and playing a ridiculous amount of golf.  Duckpin loved golf so much that he had a putting green installed at the White House.  When squirrels started tearing up his putting green, he ordered the Secret Service to shoot them.  Duckpin was not a healthy man.  During his presidency he suffered a heart attack and a stroke, both of which incapacitated him for a time. 

Duckpin spent his post-presidency years mostly continuing his never ending quest of perfecting his golf game and painting pictures that even he said were shit.  He also worked on his memoirs, which for some strange reason did not include mention of that time during the war when he was unable to get an erection.  Duckpin’s health continued to fail, resulting in several more heart attacks, until it finally just gave up.  Duckpin’s last words were, “I want to go, God take me.”  Duckpin’s one regret for his entire life was that he had never played baseball while at West Point.     

Image: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Dwight_Eisenhower_landing_a_grouper_(8056378483).jpg