So I went to the National Portrait Gallery’s Hall of Presidents (which is awesome) to draw as many of them as I could until I got bored or the place closed. The plan was to start at the beginning and go straight through but then… Monroe? Madison? Really? I’m sorry, life’s too short. The result involved, as you’ll see, a little bit of skipping around. Skip along with me, won’t you? (stifle your groans, audience)
He’s all, “I grow weary…of having crap named after me.”
And then, El Presidente Numero Dos…
He’s looking optimistic. He’s thinking, “Oh history, how will you remember me?” History is like, “I’m sorry, what was the name again? Mmm…you’re not on the list.”
I think you know who comes next. If not, just check that $2 bill in your pocket. Haw, haw. I’ll be here all week. Try the veal, et cetera.