Happy Halloween: Part II

 A scary Ghoulaween to you, readers! As I fill my trick-r-treat baskets with rolled up Boner Adams fact sheets, my belly fills with the anticipation of another fun-filled night. My girlfriend Helena and I are skyping (whatever that is) and I have dug out all of my framed Boner photos and placed them around me (because he loved Halloween). Know how I know this? On Halloween of 1802, Boner dressed up as a Native American and said:

"The legend of All Hallows began with rape and it 
will end there, this I do assure you. The Indian - the 
beast of all men - savaged our lands and slapped 
our women and threw our babies to the inferno. This
is why I institute 'Kill the Red Man Day' - for every 
Indian hide you hang from your rooftops, I award you 
a jar of my wife's fine paste. 

Go forth, my brothers, and cleanse this land of all trogs!" 

Boner's actions were sanctioned and he was fined three cows for his outspokenness, especially considering we were supposed to be playing nice with the natives at the time. You know, for stealing their land and all.

Happy Halloween

I think it's safe to assume that I have chosen the visage of Boner this Halloween. Regrettably our country produces plenty of Obama or Hilary Clinton masks, but none for poor Boner. Pictured above is a picture of the closest mask I could find (it was taken in my bathroom, where it's the darkest).

What will you be for Halloween, readers?

Hopefully not a "woman" - or else Boner might flog you!

Just kidding.

Halloween Halloween! Or Sow-wow-wan as they called it in the past!

Why Boner?

One of the many queries that my mother and my internet girlfriend who lives in Canada pose to me:

"Why study such a reprehensible man?  Why not chronicle the history of someone far more noble--like Henry Ford?"

To you--and them--I can only say that if we do not learn from history, we are doomed to repeat it.

But don't take my word for it.

Here is an excerpt from Boner's long out of print memoir, Tonight, We Duel:

"I oft enjoy curling up by the fireside,

with my negroes giving me a well-earned back rub,

and my wife sobbing uncontrollably on her fainting couch,

and crack open one of the numerous volumes of World History

I have on my shelves--right next to that human boy skull.

History is what makes us who we are.  Without History,

we would be nothing more than beasts,

or lower than beasts,

like these black skinned devils who are currently

rubbing their half-dark half-light hands on my spine."

Happy Halloween!

Diary Excerpt: April, 1807

One of my many eBay acquisitions when it comes to President Boner Adams was one of his many journals. To think such history as this is given away on eBay for a mere $8,400 dollars is a travesty, but I digress - now that I own such a piece of history, it is my responsibility and privilege to share it with all Boner enthusiasts.

An interesting except from the journal of Boner Adams, dated April 14, 1807:

The horseman’s boy gave me the eyes again today as I groomed
my steed for my rock load. He’s perceived by me to be of the
peculiar sort, but of what attention the boy requests of me I do
not know. I wonder if perhaps he is of the sort who prefers the
member of a man, rather than the soft touch of a woman’s
beard-lined womb opening. I shall be keeping an eye on him
for the moment, lest I become some kind of pattycake whose
chest provides the pillow for another fancy man’s weary head.

 But onto another matter:

Again I spied that bastard Jackleton crossing my fence to pinch
at the teats of my cows, for his this season are giving sour milk.
Chased him I did with my musket aimed at his backside, and
surely he did flee in terror from my threats. “Get over yonder
to your own abode, posthaste!” I did shout to Jackleton. “Cross
that barrier again and I shall introduce you to my vengeful
God – personally!”

I see no further conflicts with my thieving neighbor, but I shall
keep you informed, my diary.

Mavis made mutton for dinner and I heaved it dryly in the
backyard near the pig pen. As the slave boy wiped off my
shoes, I wondered with irony if I might sometime soon be feasting
among the vile pig who so greedily slurped at my heavings.

Life is a pitiful, barren thing.

 There is more to come, Boner fans!

Boner's Shoes Were Made for Walkin'

Boner's Multitudinous Expedited Shoe Production thrived for nearly fifty years, a company inherited from his father, Weatherby, who was killed in a freak lips accident. Hiring an array of Negro children and the housewives of his associates, the shoe machines were oiled and repaired and unclogged on a daily basis. For Christmas, Boner would give his staff those shoes which were over-steamed from the previous year and deemed unwearable by his particular eye.

Found in a diary of one of those Negro workers was sound proof of Boner's dedication to his craft, as well as his eternal struggle to constantly improve himself, the industry, and even Moral America:

"Tis is a fine shoe ye have made, Samuel - but tell me, 

will it keep ye animals from our women 

like the mongrel sheep dog protects its flock?"

Again, while Boner's words may seem callous and deeply hateful in our modern age, one must remember the time in which he lived. Racial tensions weren't just about inappropriate comments made on radio programs or stand-up comedy specials - there was a true question of inferiority amongst the blacks and whites, so much that prominent white families would sell their slaves to another family like you or I would sell each other a Shinedown CD on Amazon.com.

A Candid Look at Boner

This photo was taken just after Boner's first term. The photographic company, Boning & Small, intensely campaigned for Boner's re-election, having been heavily inspired by one of Boner's speeches he'd recited during his first term:

"To all men big and small, Boner Adams is a servant of the people, 

and should the Negros detest my presence, 

I will smite them with my father's hammer."

Though his beliefs at the time would certainly be deemed as insensitive and cruel today, the small company of Boning & Small never felt more enthusiastic about their nation's leaders, and that is how B&S got its name.