Boner Pants

Boner's pantaloons. They are worth something like six hundred dollars in today's market. Can you believe that? All for some old pants! I wish I could purchase some genuine Boner pants, but alas - I recently bought a new 1989 Honda Accord, so money is a little tight right now.

Maybe one day!

I wonder what he looked like in pants. Could he still master his forceful stride?  Could he perhaps still kick down a wagon of newborns (like it was claimed, but never proven, that he once did)?

But who really knows? I know! His diary! 

Diary,

I am at a loss as to how to remove this human blood from my pantaloons. I have tried water and kicking. Nothing seems to work. I better think of something soon, or the disappearance of my slave Bobay will have people talking!

B.A.

P.S. My third wife died today. This is getting quite vexing.

Yank On Your Wish Boner

As another Thanksgiving rears its head for us to spend time with family and friends, and to eat shitty food no one really likes, let us all pause to remember those of our ancestors who allowed for us to sit in peace and eat until we are literally uncomfortable.

Let us give thanks and be glad that pioneers like Boner Adams stormed the beaches of what they thought were the West Indies, raped a bunch of women, threw a bunch of babies into roaring fires, and beheaded most of the men. Later that night, everyone really calmed down and had some chow at the same table.

Also, the settlers gave the Indians the plague. Haha, take that, Indians!

Above, Boner is seen posing next to his Thanksgiving meal. He never much cared for turkeys, and opted for deer meat instead. Allegedly he liked the taste of the blood running down his lips as he sneered at his children and slapped his wives.

"Thanksgiving? Ha! Give me some slaves and I shall thank them 

with more work! But the giving - tis a gift, giving is! Give me some 

more slaw for my plate and some adhesive for your lips!"

- Boner Adams, circa 1707

Boner's Business

In the fall of 1778, after being released from prison, Boner desired a new business venture. His mass shoe production company, while profitable, wasn't satisfying to Boner the Businessman. And so, just before Christmas of that same year, Boner opened Boner's Negro & General Supply Store.

Marketing posters of a sadly-shrugging Boner in blackface and wrapped in chains posed to his potential customers the question: "Won't you bring home a Negro for your grandfather? I got nowhere else to go. And I got my own broom."

Sales skyrocketed. Boner literally laughed as he rung up hundreds of Negroes a week ($5 per man, $3 per woman and child).

Boner reasoned his success was based on pure logistics:

"Why break my own back, sir? Or you yours? Why plow the fields and scrub the cow's utters when these heathens can be forced to do it? I'd rather sit in my rocking chair and ask God if I've made him proud this day. Me thinks I have!"

On New Year's Eve of 1778, Boner was so pleased with his booming business that he sold a bundle pack of one Negro and two bags of dried corn husks for $7. Citizens were ecstatic. Boner laughed again.

"$5 a Negro! More than fair, I say! And the Bible finds this justifiable! Oh, where does it say that? I believe somewhere in the back."

Oh, Boner.

The First Wife of Boner Adams

Boner Adams had many wives.  Indeed, it is believed he had so many that we've actually lost track of several of them--at least fifteen wives are known only as "Wife (deceased)."

But of all the many women who laid down with Boner Adams, the one we know the most about is his first wife, Mary Folkcraft Griswold.

She was a school teacher from Kentucky, and though she was not even in the least bit attractive (like Megan Fox or that girl from the Daily Show who is always in her bra), Boner was smitten with her.

During their courtship, Boner penned several correspondence to her, all of which can be viewed (for a large fee) at the Boner Adams Library, in Russia.

I've spent hours pouring over these letters, and I'd like to share one with you now, dated December 12th:

December 12th

My fair Titty (Boner's pet name for Mary),

Does your bonny cheek lay bare on your bed made of bear hide?  Oh, oft I have dreamed of taking you, naked and covered in hog fat, into my Sex Barn, and ripping your five corsets off.  Some may think this lewd of me, and to them I say, BANG, as I shoot them in their fucking mouths.  Ha!  

Mary, you must believe me when I tell you you have a behind that makes my mouth fill up with juice.  I long to sink my wooden teeth into your nose, and taste the sputum within.  Sweet girl, do not keep me waiting.  Mount your horse and come to me post haste.  And when you do, be sure to ride completely nude.  I know it is a 500 mile ride, and very cold, but the brisk air will be sure to make your nips stand out like daggers, and how I would love to see that.

Boner cut her head off on their 5th wedding anniversary.

A Letter To Boner's Brother, Grizzly

This letter was found among the personal effects of Grizzly Adams after his death. The letter is dated October 10, 1806. It smelled of beard and honeydew. A direct transcription follows:

My brother, Grizzly:

Your problem concerning the hairy bears is quite perplexing, I can agree! Perhaps you could ensnare them in some device which punts them feverishly in the brain? This way when the animal is docile you may swoop in and remove their eyes and ears for the Indians who have kidnapped your wife for ransom!

But onto other topics:

My son, Jaundy, has secretly begun taking his sister's ladypants into the bathroom and fancying himself a developed male! The missus is distraught and the slaves laugh daily at Jaundy's behavior. I know not what to do, my brother. Perhaps I should push him off a mountain like Pa did to our brother years ago when he was caught picking lilies in Augustus Field.

My wife has given birth to our seventh child. I shall put him in the grave with the five others. Must that woman strangle them so in her womb! I dare say she is cursed to sever the Adams bloodline henceforth! Why does God punish me so?

Lastly, I've begun an affair with a local woman who calls her self Loosey Lucy. She screams during pleasure and pulls on my beard, which I must tell you I find quite vexing. Should she continue this behavior, I may fill her mouth with tar and set her on fire and let the coyotes strip the flesh from her bones! I believe her sister perished in a similar manner when she pulled on my beard during coitus.

I must go now, my brother - the slaves are singing their slave songs and yet the firewood is not stacked for the oncoming winter. They will pay for their insubordination. I shall send you some stretched skin from their backs once it is harvested.

My love to your dog.

Boner A.

Boner Adams frequently wrote letters to his brother Grizzly, and this was just one of hopefully many that will be featured here.

And just like Boner, I too must go! My dinner is beeping.

Election Day

I voted for Ballot. Who did you vote for?

That was a joke I just did.

Elections are important, folks. More important than BSG or that series of moon craters which may or may not be a face. Elections determine which group of people are going to ruin our lives: the crazy, egg-sucking folks still trapped in the 18th century, or the groups of kids in adult-sized clothes who hide under their desks whenever someone speaks above a whisper.

I wish a certain Boner were still alive, because I would vote for him in a second. And I bet all you moderners think this is the first time healthcare has ever been as big an issue as it is now, but that's simply not true.

Why, as early as 1820, in his re-election campaign against Democrat Jammy James, Boner was quoted as saying:

"Should a man bleed from his face just because he has not 
the gold nuggets in which to pay a slave to spit out some of 
his magical voodoo slime? Should a woman bleed from her hair 
hole because she has not the wooden coins in which to pay a 
slave child to plug her up with some pulp grass, mystical rhymes, 
and chives? Must we always use the same river in which to dispose our 
deformed babies?

My fellow Americans, I dream of a place where fine, upstanding 
citizens can receive free care from a doctor and his many leeches. 
And I suppose the Negroes can go see the horse doctor for a mere shilling, 
so long as they are back to prepare my yellow potatoes."

I hope you all make the right choice at the polls today, readers. I know I have. I voted for Boner (in my dreams).

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.