Chocoboozers.

I have cracked open the Aberlour for medicinal purposes – this post might end abruptly.

First, the dirty mind test. The quicker you understand this little joke, the dirtier your mind is. Ready?

How does a Frenchwoman hold her liqueur?

By the ears.

If you’re laughing already, your mind is a sewer.

Anyway, while the non-filthy among you cogitate, have a look at the Puritans’ idea of a ‘slippery slope‘.

That’s right. They are now claiming a ‘slippery slope’ because they are dim enough to actually believe that kids will get drunk on chocolate liqueurs. Try it. You will get fat long, long before you get drunk, in fact you will never get drunk on them at all. It just isn’t possible. If you do get drunk on a box of chocolate liqueurs then you’d better avoid mouthwash, cough medicine and antibacterial hand gel. If you are really that sensitive to alcohol then all those things will get you plastered.

Kids who want to get drunk do not buy chocolate liqueurs. They buy vodka and Red Stripe and Carlsberg Special Brew and other things they are not legally allowed to buy. You will never be accosted by a band of reeling, melted-eyed chocolate-spew-coated toddlers demanding you hand over your bar of Old Jamaica.

Did you get the joke yet? Yes? Disgusting.

Last year I was astonished to find that Local Shop was not allowed to sell Christmas crackers to under-16s. Really. This was justified by the Explosives Act. I imagined a teenage Jihadi holding one in the cockpit of a plane and shouting ‘Fly me to Dubai or I’ll make you wear a paper hat and tell you a terrible joke! Twelve times!’

I was again surprised to find that there is an age restriction on booze-flavoured chocolate. Children don’t like it anyway. They just want the chocolate. They don’t want it cherry brandy flavoured or whisky flavoured or Malibu flavoured. Make it chocolate flavoured and they’ll be interested.

I remember eating a bar of Old Jamaica (rum flavoured chocolate) as a child and recall it as being pretty vile. It put me off rum for a very long time, in fact until quite recently when I tried ‘Sailor Jerry’, which I found quite pleasant. It won’t replace my whisky but it was palatable. In childhood it tasted awful. I preferred sherry back then but can’t be bothered with it now. Far too sweet.

If you’re still baffled by the joke, your mind is officially clean. Stick around, we can fix it.

To those who claimed that the measures applied to tobacco would never apply to other products, that all they wanted was a ban in public places and that would be the end of it, and more, now whining about a slippery slope, there can be only one sensible response.

There is no slippery slope. The proof is on ASH’s and all the other bansturbator websites. They all say so, there is total concensus on the matter, the debate is over, and so on.

Since there is no slippery slope (©The Dreadful Arnott), the next logical step is to abolish duty on tobacco and booze and make them available for free in kindergartens everywhere.

Actually, you know, if kindergarten kids were forced into compulsory smoky-drinky classes, my bet is that most would rebel by never touching either of those things again. Kids rebel against what they are told to do and what they are told not to do. That’s why teenagers never tidy their rooms. Try telling them, in admiring tones, that their rooms look just like yours did when you were a teenager and watch the transformation.

Drum into them that drinking and smoking and burgers and salt and sugar and whatever are things they can’t have and they will go all out to get them.

Tell them they have to smoke and drink to fit in with the adult world and they won’t do it.

Of course, if we were to do it that way around, all those Righteous would have to get real jobs, wouldn’t they? Who would employ such pompous, self-important, arrogant paragons of moral turpitude who mostly resemble the resulting effluence (in sight, stench, sanity and self-awareness) of an intemperate consumption of Vindaloo?

They could try the BMA. As far as I can tell, those are the entrance requirements.

 

 

 

(sigh) There’s always one. Look, you say the word ‘liqueur’ as if you are saying ‘licker’ in a really bad French accent. That’s why it has to be a Frenchwoman. Well, if you still don’t get it, a life of tedious purity is yours.

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10 thoughts on “Chocoboozers.

  1. I got the joke before the punchline. Oh well.

    And here’s an undoubtably racist, (and sexist), variation on the theme.

    Three large black women sat on a porch in Alabama:

    LBW1: “I calls my man whisky ‘cos he’s so frisky.”
    LBW2: “I calls my man brandy ‘cos he’s so randy.”
    LBW3: “I calls my man Drambuie.”
    LBW1&2 “Ain’t that some kind of fancy foreign liquor?”
    LBW3: “That’s my man!”

    Like

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