Always do sober what you said you'd do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut.
I have absolutely no pleasure in the stimulants in which I sometimes so madly indulge. It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that I have periled life and reputation and reason. It has been the desperate attempt to escape from torturing memories, from a sense of insupportable loneliness and a dread of some strange impending doom.
I drink to make other people more interesting.
Work is the curse of the drinking classes.
Oh, you hate your job? Why didn't you say so? There's a support group for that. It's called EVERYBODY, and they meet at the bar.
The problem with the designated driver program, it's not a desirable job, but if you ever get sucked into doing it, have fun with it. At the end of the night, drop them off at the wrong house.
Be wary of strong drink, it can make you shoot at the tax collector...and miss.
In wine there is wisdom, in beer there is Freedom, in water there is bacteria.
I like to have a martini, Two at the very most. After three I'm under the table, after four I'm under my host.
I cook with wine, sometimes I even add it to the food.
There are two kinds of people I don't trust: people who don't drink and people who collect stickers.
We were not a hugging people. In terms of emotional comfort it was our belief that no amount of physical contact could match the healing powers of a well made cocktail.
Writer's block is a fancy term made up by whiners so they can have an excuse to drink alcohol.
Drinking is fun! It makes me feel horrible and sexy!
For the first twenty years of my life, I rocked myself to sleep. It was a harmless enough hobby, but eventually, I had to give it up. Throughout the next twenty-two years I lay still and discovered that after a few minutes I could drop off with no problem. Follow seven beers with a couple of scotches and a thimble of good marijuana, and it’s funny how sleep just sort of comes on its own. Often I never even made it to the bed. I’d squat down to pet the cat and wake up on the floor eight hours later, having lost a perfectly good excuse to change my clothes. I’m now told that this is not called “going to sleep” but rather “passing out,” a phrase that carries a distinct hint of judgment.
The Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy also mentions alcohol. It says that the best drink in existence is the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, the effect of which is like having your brains smashed out with a slice of lemon wrapped round a large gold brick.
I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy.
Are you there vodka? It's me, Chelsea. Please get me out of jail and I promise I will never drink again. Drink and drive. I will never drink and drive again. I may even start my own group fashioned after MADD, Mothers Against Drunk Driving, but I'll call it AWLTDASH, Alcoholics Who Like to Drink and Stay Home.
Everybody's got to believe in something. I believe I'll have another beer.
To alcohol! The cause of... and solution to... all of life's problems