
“Prohibition is a sign of national decadence. A country that is too cowardly too drink is on the tobog.”
– Daniel Webster
Well, it’s official: those cold-water Nancies, the Prohibs have won the day and there’s not much a spirit-lovin’ lad like your Chester can do but kick up his heels and say, “Aw, applesauce!”
I tell you what: you won’t find me at one of those sarsaparilla joints bending my elbow with the soda set. No, sir. I have made certain preparations for this latest curtailment of liberty and have stolen away in my cellar the following:
2 bottles “Old Oaken Bucket” straight rye whiskey
4 bottles “Pappy Van Winkle’s Family Reserve” bourbon whiskey
1 bottle “Yellow-Haired Laddie” single malt Scotch
3 bottles “Fussy Muttonchops” British gin
This should be enough to tide me over until those paid moralists and Bolshevist cowards in Washington come to their ever-loving senses.
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