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Because they are such a vindictive bunch of hens, the Mothers Against Drunk Driving must be treated with caution, much as one would approach a poisonous snake. Our contributor on this one will remain fearfully unknown, except for being from the state of Washington. Here’s what happened. A local M.A.D.D. member believed our contributor was a drunk driver because this person worked in a tavern. Our contributor was constantly bombarded with phone calls, mail and visits by M.A.D.D. zealots. Later, a mistaken identity in a local paper cause her more grief with these menacing mothers.

Late one night, our contributor called the local M.A.D.D. busybody’s home, gave a fake name and said she was drunk and needed a ride home. “I gave her the name of the bar and a generic description of myself. I waited for her nearby. While she entered the bar looking for me, I quickly spirited a half empty bottle of booze into her car, with the lid loose,” our contributor reports.

“After waiting a few minutes she left, probably figuring it was a prank. In the meantime, I had called the local DWI hotline and reported her car and license. The cops stopped her and found the bottle. We have an open-bottle law in our state, so she was had.

“You know how wonderful there-is-justice-afterall in this matter? She really was legally loaded… a .17 reading. Ain’t it wonderful? Getting even is such fun,” our contributor writes.

Meanwhile, a friend of mine, El Coronel Thomas Eructo, is starting an organization known as Drunks Against Mad Mothers, or D.A.M.N. Would I lie?

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