Ex-Presidents Meet to Celebrate Donald Trump

(Editors’ note) It’s not often that you get former US Presidents all together all in one room at the same time. Working out schedules, linguistics and security, not to costs to taxpayers themselves make the massive undertaking near impossible. Factor in the fact that the said group is Herbert Hoover, Warren Harding, Franklin Pierce, James Buchanan, Richard Nixon, Ronald Reagan and William Henry Harrison, the Herculean task becomes all the more stupid. 

Enter LBJBR and its group of inept reporters.

They, too, thought the idea stupid so I had to assign one to do it.

Naturally, I looked to our crabby social media expert Harvey, and his Hunter Thompson gonzo-soaked and marinated prose, to do the job. 

After using every swear word in the book (Yes, our fact checker made sure) he agreed. What follows is his report (Only edited for grammar and six f-filled rants about Sri-Lankan Interior Ministry). Enjoy!   


I woke up alone and drunk. Wondered why I was alone. Where was what’s her? The one with the loopy ideas about the game show Jeopardy. Crazy b*tch(This is Gonzo journalism, b^tches) thinks Alex Trebek is a gay Maritan here to take over the US and deport us all back to Canada. F*ck that I  say. I don’t want no nicely dressed pleasantly dressed Canadian coming up and tell me “Good Morning.” Man’s got to know his limitations (No period. Gonzo journalism, b8tches)


I rolled out of bed and cursed like a Belgian. Yes, it wasn’t pretty bad. Twenty minutes and out the door to the f*cking LBJBR. No interacting with the idiot readers complaining about our blind editors missing errors in punctuation and bad grammar (I am immune. Gonzo journalism, sh*theads)

No, none of that twaddle. Downside being I won’t be able to have me nap.

Off to interview five dead presidents and talk about the current President. Some days, being a journalist sucks monkey balls.

And then I was in the sh*t,  metaphorically speaking of course. Five dead presidents and yours truly.

For being dead, I wonder who is the gatekeeper to hell.  Harding, it turns out objects to the notion he lives in hell. I didn’t much care for his music and I told him so. The atmosphere in the room went staler than a LBJBR party.

What has bought these reminders of American voters to rise from the grave like impregnated teens girls after a one night stand? President Donald Trump!


Seems that ol’ Donny has been named the worst president of all time. All happy. Why? W.H.H? (There’s no sp. anything out in Gonzo [Note: That aside, not gonzo, B#itchers]).

W.H.H stood out in the cold rain during his coronation, caught pneumonia and punted the big bucket, thus ending his presidency before it began. Apparently, it sticks in his crawl still.

“I never got a chance,” he repeated like a mantra.

“That is Mr-Not-Worst-President-Ever. bitches!”

Warren G. Harding, the biggest aloof asshole you will find in the phone book, scoffed. Of course, Warren G’s only claim to fame, not technically a crime but it should be, was dying so we lucky few could witness the Calvin Coolidge Experience

But still, man, it’s Warren-Freaking-G. He was like a rapper. We try to get him to rap for us but says “That is another Warren G. ”

Everyone remains in good mood throughout the interview, despite several attempts by  J.B (James Buchanan was rumored to be gay) to get me to visit his own personal oval office.

“Hello, Sailor, how about I show you my oval office.”

With the purpose of this visit fulfilled, JB,. WGH, RN (Richard Nixon – who shuffled around giving everyone that cross ed his path the serious. When he and WHH went to the bathroom – somebody tell Pat – we ditched them with the check.

WGH was on the phone with his Coolie (Calvin Coolidge, sh7theads). WGH was humming some tune that for a minute sounded like the David Bowie, RIP,  song “Under Pressure.”

All that’s left when nothing remains is Neal Cassady.

Run Neal Run.

Peace and love

Neal, get out the crochet. Daddy’s ’rounding third and headin’ home.

“Follow the Committee on Facebook and Twitter. Like them and read all their wonderful articles. Just tell them Neal Cassady sent you.”





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