Garfield Hates Mondays

It’s been a tumultuous few weeks, and the divide in this country has never been more starkly pronounced.  We here at History Bros felt it was necessary to bring some joy, to laugh again, as we navigate unknown territory in the narrative of this republic. So, this week, we’ve got a special comedic guest to bust our chops: 20^th President of the United States and lasagna aficionado, James A. Garfield!

HB: President Garfield, did our interns offer you a small bowl of milk?

JG: I really don’t know how to answer this anymore…  I’m not a cat; I’m a man.  A man who attended Williams College, served for years in Congress, was a major general in the Union Army during the Civil War, and supported civil rights for African-Americans while Reconstruction wreaked havoc on the US.

HB: Todd, Garfield doesn’t want milk! Water?

JG: Sure.

HB: Todd, a small bowl of water for President Garfield!

JG: I can use a glass, I don…

HB: Garfield, what was it like to live with such a dunce like John Arbuckle?

JG: I’m sorry, what? Sir, I came here to discuss my purging of the US Post Office of corruption – matters of the highest order!

HB: I hate junk mail, right!? Ok, “a would you rather.”

JG: Huh?

HB: Odie or junk mail? What’s worse? That’s gotta be tough!

JG: What!?

HB: The brilliance of Jim Davis, discuss!

JG: Sir, I wanted to discuss my myriad merits that the American people never seem to remember because I died so early on in my presidency.  Taken too early by…

HB: I know. You were hit by a car driven by disgruntled office seeker Charles J. Guiteau, which is just completely random.  Did John Arbuckle not have the money and put you down? That happened to my first cat, Pooky. You feel terrible because it’s like a part of your family, but like, money…you know?

JG: I hate this! I don’t fucking know what you’ve been talking about this entire time.  Please get this small bowl of water out of my face AND this heaping pile of lasagna! I hate today! I…

HB: Oh, oh! What’s today?

JG: Monday.

HB: Would you say that you hate this Monday?

JG: Yes, I’m particularly annoyed. I hate this Monday.

HB: Yay!!!!!!

Truman Goes to School

Holy shit! It’s been a while since History Bros has been up and running – my apologies for that as I was grieving the loss of my dear friend Morrie.  I would meet with him every Wednesday, though we had a bitter fight some five years ago over fantasy football and some bigoted things he said.  Suffice it to say, I feel terrible and am racked with guilt.  Apparently some asshole started meeting with him on Tuesdays and wrote a book about it.  He didn’t even know Morrie! I knew Morrie! But, life is too short to hate, and I’ve decided to give back to the community in honor of my dear friend Morrie. He would’ve wanted that, as bigoted as he could be.

I don’t like soup, so I I’m not volunteering my time at a soup kitchen.  I can’t read (I can write, I just can’t read), so tutoring is out. So why not help my fellow man with the basic life skills needed to get moving, get a job and find a sense of purpose in life?  Welp, it just so happens our guest today is unemployed. Let’s get the job done!

HB: Harry S. Truman! Ex-president and a man collecting unemployment.

HST: It’s rough out there. We haven’t fully recovered from the economic crisis of 2008, and most jobs these days require at least a college degree.

HB: Wait. You don’t have a college degree?

HST: I do not.

HB: I can’t even read and I have a college degree.  I majored in classics by the way.

HST: Well, I mean, I enrolled at Spalding’s Commercial College in Kansas City – go Cornish Game Hens! Studied bookkeeping, shorthand and typing, but just wasn’t for me. Wasn’t a fit, you know?

HB: Mmmm, your skillset may be dated. Were you training to become a stenographer?  What the hell do you do with that?

HST: Didn’t you major in classics?

HB: Moving on.  Trumie, what are you passionate about?

HST: Haberdashery

HB: Like, men’s clothing?

HST: Yes, I owned a haberdashery before I fell into politics.

HB: The man who dropped the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki was a haberdasher and studied typing?

HST: It takes a delicate touch

HB: The haberdashery business or total war?

HST: Both.

HB: Well, you’ve got gumption, Trumie. Listen, I’ll give my pal Chad down at Joseph A. Bank a call and see if he can start you off in the stockroom or something.

HB: Chad, it’s me. I know, thank you. It was good seeing you at Morrie’s memorial, too. Listen, a buddy of mine needs a job, even if it’s starting in the stockroom. Mmhmm. Um, Spalding Commercial College, but one year. Really? Alright, well thanks man. You still doing the 3 for 1 sale? Awesome. Ok. Bye-bye.

HB: No dice Trumie, you need at least a master’s to work at the Banks.

HST: Well, I guess it’s time for me to suck it up and go back to school. What about that ITT Tech I’ve seen on movie box?

HB: Awww, it just went the way of Spalding Commercial College. Sorry, Trumie. Listen, I’ll take you down to the Banks and I’ll give you one of my 3 for 1 dress shirts. Least I can do.

All: Banks spree! Yay!

Wine Boy

History Bros sits down with Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet after a 5-month Franzia break.  In a box, in your garage, wine anytime!  Franzia, right next to your son’s deflated basketball.  Advertisements aside, let’s sit down with Pinochet himself and offer him the chance to defend his choices as ruler of Chile from 1974 to 1990.

HB: Augusto, thank you for dressing up for the interview, but it wasn’t necessary.  The sash is lovely, though.

AP: Gracias!

HB: English!

AP: Si.

HB: Augosto…

AP: Sorry.

HB: Are you, though?

AP: No.

HB: Hey, so what happened during those dark days leading up to your US-backed coup d’etat?

AP: America was like, “Hey, we already put a man on the moon before the Commies could.  We’re basically winning this thing, how’d you like to oust your socialist leader, Salvador Allende, and rule your food-named country with our approval?”

HB: Did your American backers know where Chile was on a map?

AP: They pointed to Ecuador, but I thought better of correcting them.

HB: Good!  Because we’re fuckin’ right!

HB: But seriously, you did torture a lot of people, Pino.

AP: I was harboring a lot of deep-seated hatred after being called “wine boy” all through grade school.

HB: Because your name sounds like a rare, fancy wine?

AP: Si.

HB: English.  It does, though, really.  You’d have a buttery flavor, because, just, no…

HB:  So, you made your citizenry disappear because you were called “wine boy”?

AP: Yes.

HB: That’s fucked up, Pino.  How did your classmates even know what a wine label should sound like?

AP: We start drinking at five in Chile.

HB: That’s also fucked up.  Would you do it over again if given the chance?

AP: No, but the sash was so alluring.

HB: It is.  What is that, a merit badge?  That’s nice.

AP: Yes.  I built a bench in the park, so I was rewarded with this badge.

AP: The Americans also gave me an H3 Hummer with “mudding” grills.  So that, plus the sash…and being bullied, all but forced me to take the gig.

HB: Because you don’t get an H3 under socialism.

HB: Wine boy, this has been a delight, so I’m going to pin this “great guest” merit badge right next to your 500^th murder badge.

HB: Before we go, Shia LaBeouf or Franzia?

AP: Franzia.

HB: Wine boy drinks Franzia!

AP: I have three boxes in my garage right now!

HB: I know!  Bye!

Suburban Marauder

Hey!  History Bros is back after yet another long, but well-warranted, hiatus.  Fumigation.  The worst.  We had an outbreak of lavender in our offices, which can apparently be deadly if not checked.  This assertion was verified when we found yet another dead intern at History Bros headquarters – death by lavender inhalation and extreme relaxation.  Intern Casey was found in a bubble bath, unconscious.  Sad news aside, we have famed explorer Leif Ericson with us today to share some of his more famous exploits, including the first known landing in North American by a European.  And we’ll dig a little deeper into his Viking heritage and unpack what that means for…

HB: And the offices are now on fire.  Tar…yep, tar is seeping through our flimsy ceiling, only adding fodder to this blaze.  Oh, Jesus.  Mikey, our FedEx guy for the past 12 years (super nice guy) was just impaled and then eviscerated.  His murderer is now wearing his large intestine as a boa.  Leif and his bros seem to be here.

Leif: Plunder!

HB: Leif, we talked over the phone and, contrary to all this, you seemed extremely polite.  The interview?  No?

Leif: Berserker!                                                         

HB: Ok, it appears that Leif and his ZZ Top buddies are now in berserker mode… OK… Todd the intern’s head is now rolling across my feet.  Over some sweet Pumas I might add.  Leif?  You were so articulate over the phone, I don’t…  And they’re leaving.  Carl, get the van.

HB: We followed Leif and company in their “scooped out” Chevy Suburban, which topped out at about 2 mph since they seem to be adamant about using oars and wind power.  We are now in front of a Jewel Osco, and…oh, ok…the battering ram has come out.

Leif: You want to live, boy!?  Join!

HB: Leif, seriously.  You said you graduated from Vassar with a minor in English Lit.  We talked 

about how we’d love to buy “real” furniture once we settle down, rather than the IKEA crap that’s more of a holdover.  You were really into that conversation.  …And they’ve broken into the Jewel.

Leif:  Pearls!

HB:  Leif has just grabbed about four boxes of Tampax Pearl brand tampons.

Leif: Onward to Schaumburg!

HB: I can only guess that Leif and friends are going to maraud the IKEA in Schaumburg due to some deep-seated resentment toward a nomadic life, continually relying on furniture that lasts about 2 years with no real value or sentiment

HB: Oh hey, Mikey left a Pottery Barn catalog.  Carl, Jamba Juice?  Alright!

Terrible

We have a very special episode today, as History Bros returns after St. Patrick’s Day break.  Ironically, we tried to book St. Patrick himself, but he is STILL getting his stomach pumped down at St. Jude’s.  Yes, it is a week after the fact and defies all medical odds, but he is a fucking saint – and apparently a terrible human being.

Anyway, today’s guest is an infamous one: Ivan the Terrible, ruler of all the Russias!  But, before we sit down with our guest, I need to plgs our new sponsor, Red Bull.  Red Bull: may induce a panic attack.  Red Bull: tastes like liquefied SweeTARTS; not as tempting as it sounds.  Red Bull.

HB: Ivan, nice to have you today! Nice hat!

ITT: Thank you.  It’s made from flesh of nobility.

HB: (pause)

ITT: (pause)

ITT:  I kid!

HB:  Oh!  Oh ho!  Ok.  Ivan, don’t do that.

ITT: I kid!

HB: I know.

HB: Now, the term terrible, in your time, can better be translated as “formidable” or the like.  So, the moniker today doesn’t necessarily do you justice.

ITT: I united all the Russias!  But, Ivan suffer from depression and bouts of craziness!

HB: So, yeah, that does sound terrible…in the modern sense.  I’m…sorry?

ITT: I have Red Bull!

HB: Go ahead, it tastes like shi..  Oh.  Ok, I’m getting a signal from my producer, Brett, that this shouldn’t be happening.  Ivan…

ITT: Four shots in four seconds!  Ivan!  Mad!

(technical difficulties)

HB: I’m whispering now, in the janitorial closet down the hall.  I can still hear Ivan thrashing about.  Brett, our producer, has been impaled with a mic stand.  I don’t know if he’s dead or not; I hope not.  But, I am terrified of Ivan on Red Bull.  Red Bull:  you pee yellow, which has to be healthy.  Red Bull.

(shuffling)

HB: I think he may be crashing.  It’s happening.  I think he’s in the men’s room right next to the closet I’ve sequestered myself in.  Oh.  Ok.  His mic is still hooked up and…and he’s singing Firework.

ITT:  Do you ever feel like a paper bag (weeping).  I killed them all.  I killed my son.

HB:  Holy shit!

***The airing of this episode resulted in the arrest of Ivan the Terrible for the murder of his son, and possibly, the entire Russian nobility.  Brett died.