Galdarned Revenuers.
“...produced fake vodka and tobacco...”
So what was the crime?
So, it’s only real vodka if he pays tax on it?
I’m confused by the wording - they call it “fake vodka” and “fake tobacco”, but it looks like it’s real vodka/tobacco, with fake packaging.
Until this sort of mindset - that not paying taxes on something is "lost revenue" that "costs" the taxman - is dealt with, we'll never see real change on either side of the pond.
Galdarned Revenuers.
Yeah, I like how they said the illegal distillery “cost” the taxman millions. It didn’t cost them anything. They just didn’t gain as much as they wanted.
Geez, why make it when it’s legal? Still an underground for it? Wait...isn’t that why we want to legalize drugs, to do away with crime and gangs?
"We're not bp"
It’s a shame really, being a bootlegger over here he could be considered the grand patriarch of a political dynasty.
I don't think they were fake, merely illegal. I wonder if so called journalists ever read what they write?
Well, I, for one, seriously doubt that the vodka and tobacco were fake......just not regulated and taxed.
He was dodging $15 per quart of liquor taxes, and labeling his booze with the labels of rival, legal sellers?!
Now let me tell the story, I can tell it all
About the British boy who ran illegal alcohol
His daddy made the vodka, son, he drove the load
When his engine roared,
They called the highway thunder road.
Sometimes into Chatsworth, sometimes Yorkshire town
The revenoors chased him but they couldn’t run him
Down
Each time they thought they had him,
His engine would explode
He’d go by like they were standin’ still on thunder
Road.
[Chorus]
And there was thunder, thunder over thunder road
Thunder was his engine, and white lightning was his
Load
There was moonshine, moonshine to quench the devil’s thirst
The law they swore they’d get him, but the devil got
Him first.
On the first of april, Twenty ten or so
A Queen’s man sent word he’d better make his run no
More
He said two hundred agents were coverin’ the shires
Whichever road he tried to take, they’d get him sure as
Fate.
Son, his daddy told him, make this run your last
Your tank is filled with hundred-proof,
You’re all tuned up and gassed
Now, don’t take any chances, if you can’t get through
I’d rather have you back again than all that mountain
Dew
[Chorus]
Roarin’ out of London, revving’ up his mill
He shot the gap at Liverpools ,
And screamed by Edinburg
With Q-men on his taillights, roadblocks up ahead
The British boy took roads that even angels feared
To tread.
Blazing’ right through Blyburg, out on London pike
Then right outside of Wimbledon, there they made the fatal
Strike
He left the road at ninety, that’s all there is to say
The devil got the moonshine and the mountain boy
That day
[Chorus]