Jay Leno recently invited Mary Todd and me to a personal dinner in Los Angeles, an invitation that we were baffled to receive but accepted anyways. Even though neither Mary Todd nor myself were fans of his, we figured it would be rude to turn the offer down, and we like to think that we are not rude people like Stonewall Jackson’s family.

We arrived at the restaurant, which admittedly was very nice, a few minutes after Leno apparently had arrived. When we walked through the door he greeted us with a smug smile and told us he had already scoped out the best table in the house. So we followed him into the restaurant, eventually stopping at a table that was occupied by Conan O’Brien.

This table is already occupied

Leno - “Waitress, I have found the table we will be sitting at tonight.”

Waitress – “Sir, Conan O’Brien is already sitting here. You had the table last night, it’s time to let someone else have it.”

At this Leno started to throw a fit about how he deserves to sit wherever he wants because he’s the number one comedian in America and the backbone of a major television corporation. Eventually the waitress had no choice but to compromise, and stacked a table on top of the one Conan was sitting at, and placed our chairs on top of Conan and his guests’ laps.

Leno’s original smile and smug congeniality returned.

Leno – “Now this is more like it.”

So we reluctantly sat down on the chairs stacked on top of Conan and his guests and made our orders to the waitress. After a few moments of awkward silence, Leno leaned closer into the table and smiled.

Leno - “Do you like jokes?”

Not wanting to be impolite, and knowing that technically I enjoyed jokes made  by other people, I replied that yes, I like jokes.

So Jay Leno did a forty minute monologue of jokes that had subjects of dubious relevance, all while we waited for our orders, sitting on top of Conan O’Brien and his guests.

Leno - “You hear about this Hillary Clinton thing?”

Lincoln - “I mean, maybe.”

Leno – “Yeah, apparently she’s angry that Bill is taking the spotlight from her now that she is Secretary of State.”

Lincoln – “Alright…I think I’ve been hearing that off and on for the past few months. What about it?”

Leno - “She should talk to Monica Lewinsky if she wants to get in the news. Am I right?”

Although I was fairly covert in my annoyance, Mary Todd let out a very audible groan.

Leno - “What you didn’t like that one? You know what, let’s move on to something else. Did you know I own over four hundred cars? Isn’t that incredible? Four hundred. And all over the price of most people’s houses.”

Mary Todd and me exchanged confused looks.

Lincoln - “What’s a car?”

Leno - (responding uneasily) “You have to be joking. How do you get around?”

Lincoln - “We have our trustworthy horse and buggy. Honestly what is a car?”

Leno seemed to be getting smaller.

Leno - “They’re, they’re important. I have four hundred of them.”

I honestly had no idea what he was talking about.

Lincoln - “Are you talking about trains? I am familiar with trains.”

Leno seemed to be melting on to his seat.

Leno - “No! Stop! I own four hundred. All more expensive than the average house!”

Mary Todd – “I think he’s talking about chariots, dear.”

Leno - “No!”

Lincoln - “I’m going to go with trains again. Do you own four hundred trains?”

Jay Leno had now completely melted, right on to the seat. We then realized that it had now been a full hour and our orders had never come. Meanwhile, Conan’s party’s orders were just arriving.

Lincoln - “Conan, do you think we could sit with you? We’re sorry for joining a party that was crippling to your own.”

And Conan forgave us, and we had a great dinner.

For needing your cars to keep your ego and personal image alive, which is sad, and for attempting to squash Conan O’Brien…

Jay Leno is so uncool.

About a month ago, Mary Todd became obsessed with the idea of taking a tour of the television channel, TLC’s, headquarters. Over the years I have learned not to question her strange passions (such as becoming a Seal impersonator, starting a magazine devoted entirely to pictures of caterpillars, and trying to become a pterodactyl) as there is no stopping the crazy. So in any case, we made the trip.

When we arrived at TLC’s headquarters, the woman at the front desk seemed a bit confused as no one had ever made a request to tour the place, but eventually we were allowed inside when they recognized me as a former Congressman from Illinois. With free use of the Pony Express for life and a guarantee of office space in Springfield whenever I request it, being a former Congressman sure has its perks!

Anyways, we walked around the building for awhile and passed the places where they work on such culturally defining shows such as Police Women of Browerd County and Toddlers & Tiaras. Mary Todd was enjoying herself immensely (she even went into an epileptic fit from the extreme joy she was experiencing! This is pretty normal for her, no need to take worry) so at the very least I felt good about that.

After about an hour of touring, Mary Todd decided that if she did not get a Mountain Cooler Capri Sun pack (the drink with four fruity, wholesome flavors moms can feel good about) in the next five minutes she was going to literally die. So she darted away at full speed presumably to find a vending machine and left the tour guide and me alone with each other.

This is the last thing I remember before blacking out.

This is the beginning of a sex dream Mary Todd once had

I woke up in a rather small cage in what appeared to be some sort of laboratory in an underground basement of the TLC headquarters. Although it appeared like I was alone just as I was waking up, a few moments after regaining consciousness a swarm of people in ancient tribal attire swept into the room and dragged me out of my cage and into another room nearby.

The new room was also almost completely empty except for a throne made out of bones and a woman with blond hair who was lounging on top of the tribal chair. After standing in front of the woman for a few minutes with the people dressed in tribal attire, she finally spoke and introduced herself as Kate Gosselin.

The entire group of people dressed in tribal attire then lined up in front of Kate and allowed her to remove their hearts Mayan style one at a time.

Kate- “They aren’t worthy to hear my name, and as you will see in a moment, we have plenty of spares.”

She then rang a small bell and another identical looking group of people dressed in tribal attire appeared and began dragging me out of the room. But before we had reached the door Kate stopped us.

Kate- “Oh and by the way…Kate Gosselin.”

And so the previous Mayan-esque events happened again and she called in another identical looking group to finish dragging me out.

I ended up being placed on a chair facing a corner of the room which was mostly bare and unnaturally white just like the other two rooms, with the exception that the words “Our American Cousin” were written upon the corner in blood, and was left to wait. Eventually a woman in a pants-suit came into the room and introduced herself as the woman who runs the show previously named Jon & Kate Plus Eight.

She explained to me that I would be playing Kate’s new husband in the re-named show Lincoln & Kate Plus Eight, and that if I refused I would be forced to “give Kate another eight.”

After quickly asking if there was an option that involved death and being told that there was not, I saw that I had no choice but to agree to replace “Jon.”

The lady in the pants-suit then smiled a Nurse Ratched sort of smile and told me I needed to perform an act of initiation. She then walked out of my view and came back dragging a very attractive man in a well-brimmed top hat. The man was left, slumped and facing backward, against the corner of the walls I was facing.

Lady- “This is your clone, Mr. Lincoln. He looks exactly like you except for one glaring detail.”

The lady then walked back over to where I was sitting and handed me a Philadelphia Derringer pistol.

Lady- (whispering in my ear) “Let go of David Webb. Will you give yourself to this program?

Lincoln- “What? Who’s David Webb?”

Lady: “I know. I know.”

She could tell I was still very reluctant to shoot the clone of myself in the back of the head so she left the room once again, but returned this time with Kate, who was being carried while sitting on her throne of bones by another set of tribal attire wearing people.

Kate Gosselin: “I think it’s time to fill me up again.”*

After shuttering off that mental image I came to the conclusion that I was going to have to shoot this clone.

The two women could see the resolve that had finally entered my eyes and backed off. I stood up quickly and aimed the gun for the back of the clone’s head.

The room was filled with noise.

However, instead of coming from the barrel of the pistol in my hand, the source of the sudden volume increase came from the wall behind us. Mary Todd had just jumped through the wall.

Mary Todd: “I got the Capri Sun, let’s get out of here!”

Lincoln: “They’re not going to just let us leave.”

Mary Todd: “You have a gun in your hand.”

Lincoln: “I’m not going to shoot them! You know I wouldn’t even shoot a deer even if it was deering all over the place.”

Mary Todd: “You were about to shoot that clone.”

Lincoln: “Well clones probably don’t even have souls.”

Mary Todd: “Fine. Fine. I’ll squirt this Capri Sun in their eyes and they’ll be too distracted to follow us.”

Kate: “We’re right here. We can hear every word you are saying. All we have to do now is cover our eyes and we’ll be immune to your plan.”

And so Kate and the lady covered their eyes, and we walked out unnoticed.

Once outside TLC’s headquarters the fact that Mary Todd, the wife I make fun of constantly for being crazy, had just calmly barged into a highly dangerous situation and courageously saved my body from being used to give Kate babies really set in.

Lincoln- “Mary Todd that was incredible! How did you break through that wall to get into the room? It looked like it was made out of cement!”

Mary Todd- “I guess love breaks through all boundaries.”

I started to think that perhaps the crazy Mary Todd has been all along, has just been crazy in love.

But then she started trying to become a pterodactyl again, and everything was back to normal.**

Anyways…

What Would Mary Todd Pretending To Be Jesus Pretending To Be A Pterodactyl Do?

Kate Gosselin is so uncool.

*I am so sorry, reader! That statement is awful, and gross, and crass, but it is what she said. I am just trying to be as accurate as possible.

**Except for the fact that now I have to live everyday knowing that somewhere out there, a clone of myself exists just as I do. I just hope he has a better fate in front of him than replacing me on the most anticipated show of the Fall season, Lincoln & Kate Plus 8.

About a week ago, I was invited on to the Glenn Beck show on the Fox News Channel to talk about Obama’s handling of the Henry Louis Gates Jr. (black Harvard Professor) arrest. They apparently invited me for my historical precedence on “race issues.”* Although I have a strong suspicion that Glenn Beck is the anti-christ, I agreed to go on the program.

As soon as I arrived at the studio, I was swarmed with make up artists who all were dedicated to the task of covering up or disguising the gaping hole in my head. One woman suggested covering it up with a yamaka and passing me off as just coming from a Jewish friend’s wedding (which for the record I would have been fine with) but she was immediately fired as that idea was “gross” and “this program isn’t trying to send it’s viewers to hell.” Both of those quotes came from Glenn Beck himself.

So tell me Lord am I the antichrist?

Eventually the program started taping. Glenn started the show off with a metaphor about a cute puppy which represented himself apparently, and a shoe with a metal spike at the end that was repeatedly kicking the cute puppy which represented Obama’s administration. He gave no reason, backing, or evidence as to why this metaphor held up, he just said it and the audience went wild.

After his opening, we went into the Gates/white cop situation. Once again he opened with a metaphor. This time an action figure of the Joker represented Gates, an action figure of Superman represented the white cop, and an action figure of the Devil represented Obama. He explained the situation as the Joker had just blown up Superman with a kryponite bomb and now the Devil was torturing him for eternity. Everybody clapped out of their minds again.

As with his opening, Glenn provided no basis for why his metaphor held up. He was just saying things. So I called him out on this fact.

Glenn did not take this well.

Tears started welling up in his eyes and he asked me, in a sort of whimper, if I loved my country. I told him of course I loved my country.

Glenn-”Then why are you trying to ruin it, Abraham? Why are you trying to destroy the United States of America?”

I told him that in my life I have never given any reason for anybody to believe that I hated my country. One may argue, that I even gave my life for my country by taking such a controversial stand as President in order to protect the entire Union of states from collapsing into two separate entities.

Glenn countered with another metaphor. This time, a game of Mouse Trap represented myself, and the children playing the game represented American citizens.

Glenn-”Why do you not just let the children win the game? Why do you even have to make it difficult for the children to catch the mouse? Is that how you get your kicks? Why can’t all the players win? Everybody likes to win. Why are you depriving America from winning and being happy, Lincoln?”

The audience went wild.

Although I stayed sitting, and took the time to explain his argument into the dust, I regret being so dumb as to not have just stood up and walked out at that point. Clearly I was dealing with a man and an audience that do not factor logic into their decisions, and therefore I was going to lose no matter what I said.

Eventually the audience booed me off the set while Glenn laughed hysterically. As the producers escorted me from the table Glenn had the audience cheer and chant “U.S.A.” as if I, Abraham Lincoln, represented just the opposite.

But I suppose if enough people in the room believe hard enough, the lies become the truth.

Glenn Beck is so uncool.

*Not because of the Emancipation Proclamation, but because of all the black women and sometimes men I slept with during my time as President.