Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, January 1921 · page 27 of 68
Captain Billy's Whiz Bang #16 — page 27: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page from *Whiz Bang*, a popular 1920s satirical magazine, features a advice column with humorous reader letters and responses from "Captain Billy." The humor relies on double entendres and references specific to Prohibition enforcement (1920-1933). Key jokes include: Captain Billy's claim that hard cider intoxicated him so badly in Minneapolis he hallucinated the street surface; a wife asking if it's proper to show her husband the magazine itself (playing on potential embarrassment); and a crack about Prohibition enforcers—the "first hundred years are the wettest" sarcastically suggests illegal drinking will continue despite enforcement efforts. The "seven-year itch" reference is medical (a skin condition), with a deliberately crude response. These brief comedic exchanges exemplify *Whiz Bang's* bawdy, irreverent humor that mocked Prohibition-era social restrictions through wordplay and innuendo.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Captain Billy's Whiz Bang 25 Dear **Captain Billy**—What is the proper definition of an oyster?—**G. Howie Snortz.** An oyster, Mr. Snortz, is a peculiar fish better known as a bivalve and looks like a nut. * * * Dear **Bilious Billy**—Does cider really get hard enough to cause intoxication? I have a few gallons at home and do not care to indulge in strong drink?—**Molly Coddle.** Hard? I should say it does, Molly. I drank three glasses one night last week while in Minneapolis and before long I thought I was crushed rock. Friends tell me I laid down on Nicollet Avenue and tried to pull the asphalt over me. * * * Dear **Captain**—Is it quite proper for a lady to let her husband look at her Whiz Bang?—**Lotta Ginger.** Quite right, we would say—providing, of course, that it's Captain Billy's. * * * Dear **Bill**—I have been troubled with the seven-year itch. What shall I do?—**Ticklish Tillie.** Scratch yourself. * * * The First Hundred Years Discouraged prohibition enforcers should remember that the first hundred years are the wettest. * * * When my shoes wear out I'll be on my feet again.