Speak for yourself, Jack. Maybe the women of Laff are en route to rummyhood, but around here they’re crisp and sober. This illustration looks like it came from a 1937 pamphlet on VD, and the story is mostly a downbeat piece on women who put it away, and put it away some more, then get put away for putting it out.

We see the three stages of aklyhood: the woman in the upper right hand corner still has it together, even if she’s a little preoccupied trying to figure out if she should look cruel or distant. The woman in the middle is just starting to hit the skids, and she knows it. In the lower right hand corner we see the final results of too much hooch: miniaturization. The bad news: the other women in the bar are too smashed to see you, and apt to knoc k you over as they stumble past. On the other hand, a thimblefull can get you plastered. If only those tiny cigarettes weren't so scarce.