I don’t know what’s more disturbing; that federal agents dumped barrels of wine into the gutter, or that neighborhood kids are frantically trying to salvage it. I’ve never been a believer in the five-second rule. Once an item makes contact with filth, it is instantly defiled. And no amount of assuring me that “alcohol kills the germs” would convince me. But that’s 1926 for you.
In the next image, federal agents are actively pouring whiskey down a sewer, per the 18th Amendment, passed 99 years ago, come Wednesday. Such a waste.
It’s weird to see 1977 university staff images with EVERYONE drinking, since you could never do that now. Most students can’t drink until they’re juniors nowadays. But back when the drinking age was 18, nearly every student on campus was free to imbibe.
Until 1981 Texas had a minimum drinking age of 18. And you bet your bippy those 18-year-olds took advantage.
But it wasn’t just pints of beer. Spiked punch made the rounds at deans’ meetings. And the dean seems pleased.
These Delta Kappa Epsilons decided they needed an entire wine cellar for the night.
Such young revelry led to poor decisions regarding hairstyles.
And poor decisions regarding fashion.
They were ugly sweater before ugly sweater was a thing.
And sometimes folks just got too greedy.
‘Tis an odd image indeed, of young women in the 1890s, taking part at “a drinking bee” in White Chapel, Dawson, Alaska–a base during the 19th-century Klondike Gold Rush. I can’t say that I understand the canine/wine connection, but I’m certain that it was before this label existed.
Or this one.
But evidently, some dogs do like their ale.
Unless you like a frothy mouthful of head, do not pour your bottle into your glass this way. I watched a patron at a pizza parlor pour his pitcher (that’s a lot of p’s!) into his pint sans tilt, and he wound up with a pint o’ foam. Nasty. And he was well into his middle years, so he should have known better.
And the award for best illustration of ale with squirrels, accordions, and ascots goes to…
Schlitz! Y’all, this ad did its job. It actually makes me wants Schlitz, despite the fact that I would never order a 4.6% ABV beer because that’s just wasting my time. My mouth tells me to rebuke the “Schlitzness” but my eyes say “Carry on, my wayward daughter.”
Seriously, tell me, doesn’t this look like more fun than a barrel of monkeys?
Note the M on Mabel’s daisy dress, a precursor to Laverne’s sweater L.
In South Africa, they went in another direction, a decidedly non-Mabel direction. MANLY.
Doesn’t it look HEAVY? That must be the 22 oz mug.
And in Australia, it was even weirder.