Alright, I'm not sure how to set this one up, so bear with me.
Long-time readers of this blog probably know that I'm a fan of Modern Drunkard Magazine and its editor, Frank Kelly Rich, who's one of the funniest writers today. I don't approve of Rich's or the magazine's celebration of excess, but their stuff is funny and I like their iconoclastic attitude toward teetotallers. Anyway, one of their writers apparently interviewed the President of the Denver Chapter of the Reformed Anti-Saloon League. At first, I thought it was a spoof, but as I continued to read, I decided that it's real. You decide.
Excerpt:
MD: Since you're the Reformed Anti Saloon League you're acronym is RASL. So one may pronounce it, I assume, as rassle, as hill folk pronounce wrestle.
DR: Yes?
MD: Well, I just thought it a vast improvement of just ASL, which could be pronounced as a personal insult. I mean, back in the Prohibition days, I'm pretty sure the drinkers would see your ilk marching down the street and say, “Hey, here come the, uh– . . .
Another excerpt:
MD: Oh, come now. You must of had a couple wild times. Dancing on the bonnet of your Model A, or perhaps charging around on your horse, hooting savagely and bullwhipping innocent bystanders.
DR: Ridiculous! I never did any such thing.
MD: Huh! What was your favorite drink back then?
DR: I don't see any point in discussing it.
MD: It was a boilermaker, wasn't it? Five or six snorts of that and you'd be out on your horse with your infamous bullwhip–
DR: Look, if you can't conduct a civil interview, I'll ask you to leave.
