Word: grog
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...else. Whatever people say I am. that's what I'm not. Because they don't know a bloody thing about me. I'm a six-foot prop that wants a pint o' beer, that's what." With this Teddy-boyish declaration of grog-on-ice independence, the "Saxon Revolt" that is currently burning up the grass roots of British literature breaks out with brawling and exhilarant abandon on the screen. Adapted by Alan Sillitoe from his rumbustiously original first novel, Saturday Night and Sunday Morning is easily the best British movie since Room...
Still Life. In San Francisco, U.S. Revenooer Jack Courtney investigated a cache of illegal moonshine in Chinatown, emptied three 5-gal. pickle jars of the grog down a drain, found that the dregs consisted of two chickens, two hawks and a monkey...
...Dublin midnight in Groome's Hotel, a haunt of actors and other free souls, the grog flowed as from a well. Then Cinemale Robert Mitchum, in Ireland to star in an Irish Republican Army epic titled A Terrible Beauty, walked in. The facts were hard to come by, but burly (220 Ibs.) Bob Mitchum hazily allowed that he had been approached by an insistent autograph hound. Heavy-lidded ex-Truck Driver Mitchum scrawled a mild obscenity and got socked squarely in the eye for his unfriendly inscription. The story grew hazier from then on, but most agreed that Mitchum...
Cook downed his brandy and water, and later complained: "I've been sick as a cat. I do believe that damned Palmer dosed my grog, for a lark." He was dead a week later. Soon there were whispers about the deaths of 13 other people who had been connected with Palmer: patients, drinking companions, relatives, his wife (a possible suicide). The literary-minded might make cracks about "The Charnel House of Palmer." But Graves maintains stoutly that Palmer "never killed nobody," was the victim of prejudice and circumstantial evidence in the Cook case. In other hands this story might...
...carefully explained why he is only a 99 44/100% teetotaler. Though voicing distress about the "amount of pressure to have something" to drink at present-day social gatherings, Dr. Fisher forthrightly said that he tries not to offend hostesses who serve spirits. But those who place all manner of grog before him are treated to no crass bacchanalian spectacle.When the festivities wind up, the liquor level in the Archbishop's glass is never lowered by more than "one-sixteenth of an inch." Confessed Slight Sipper Fisher: "It is no virtue on my part. It happens that...