…on Mayor Mike Bloomberg’s (INDEPENDENT. Not Republican. INDEPENDENT) abortive attempt to start going after NYC’s booze…
God. The thought of a Manhattan without alcohol is… chilling. Wrong. It’d be like Gotham City without Batman.
…anyway, Caleb wrote a crackerjack post on how the damned nanny-staters can shaddap about our beer, and finished strong:
This is life. Isn’t part of life taking joy in partaking of life? Shouldn’t we have the option in our lives to enjoy rich food, drink cocktails, and occasionally throw up on our friends? Life is gritty. It’s real. It’s sometimes overweight. And sometimes it shops at Wal-mart in spandex and buys Twinkies. I may not like it when it does that, but I’ll defend to the death its right to do it. So pay attention Bloomberg. Pay attention Mrs. Obama. Keep your hands off our booze, out of our donuts, and away from our Happy Meals. We’re here! We drink beer! Get used to it!
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go dip this beer-battered Big Mac in some ranch dressing, roll it up, and smoke it. I SAID GOOD DAY, SIR!
…but it lacks something. It lacks an anthem. Fortunately, one has been written.
Moe Lane
Ah, that explains his campaign against firearms. Take away booze and there’s no outlet for regular people to delude themselves that “everything’s ok.” The left nannyfascists will never revolt, as they’re quite happy with their masters (or “betters”) boots upon their neck, but the union workers will freak the f*ck out when they can’t have a beer. You can convince a dockworker that he doesn’t need a gun… but take away his booze? You’re playing with fire Mikey.