Two Hundred and Seventy Nine years ago in colonial Virginia, George Washington fought against the oppressive prison of his mother's womb and decided to burst forth into the world so that he could invent the idea of freedom. Legend says that when he was born a giant bald eagle circled above and soon drifted down to touch Washington on the forehead, letting all witnesses know that this baby will one day be the president of the United States, even though none of those things existed yet. As history has told, after we handed the redcoats their asses the ranking officers of the Continental Army had a bare knuckle boxing tournament to decide who would be president, the first known act of democracy in the modern world. When Washington won the final match, he lifted his sword Dáinsleif (nordic for Harbinger of Freedom), and yelled from his glorious white stallion "For now I have drawn Dáinsleif, which the dwarfs forged, and which must cause a man's death every time it is bared, and I do proclaim with this awesome power that this land will become the mightiest of all nations, and I, its rightful steward, shall be hereby known as THE PRESIDENT"
Thus Presidents Day was born, and the spirit of George Washington is, through the dark arts granted to us by the Masons, transferred to each and every president that we have had (except Taft, fuck that guy). The Imperial Wolf wishes everyone a good Presidents Day and if no one here is going to celebrate I will make them with good old fashioned American persuasion:
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