This is it, my foray into the world of contrived exhibitionism! Welcome! (sound of crickets chirping...) Well... Here we go anyway. Today's blog shall be about Abraham Lincoln, because he's been on my mind a lot lately, and because this is a benevolent dictatorship.
Abe had a high-pitched voice and he giggled a great deal. Especially when he was telling "funny stories" or reading great works of literature to unsuspecting aids. He liked to lay on the floor while he was reading or practising a speech, sprawled across as much acreage as he could cover with his person and rubbish, much in the manner of a teenaged boy. His hair was almost always sticking up at odd angles and he fancied himself hideously ugly. His eyes where a charismatic, brooding grey. He quite possibly never owned an article of clothing that fit him properly, especially pants. Legion are the comments from spectators to his public appearances, remarking on the quantity and quality of ankle and shin visible beneath his hem. He shuffled around his home, both in Springfield and Washington, wearing a knit cap, woolen shawl and slippers. Basically, he was your grandma, give or take a pair of sock-garters.
Fun historical affectation of the day!
Anne Boleyn had a rudimentary sixth finger on one hand. This inspired her "Super Power" in the ill-fated (long-awaited) Crotch Rot Comic of the Wives of Henry VIII. "The Six-Finger Hold." Katherine Howard was going to chuck her head around like she was throwing the hammer for the Russians in the Olympics or some shit. Anne of Cleves would have subdued her enemies with a violently offensive smell. More on A.o.C. another day. Anyway, I never could come up with suitable attributes for the rest of them. I blame it my childhood case of worms.
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