Candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker.
Golf is a terrible, hopeless addiction, it seems: it makes its devotees willing to trudge miles in any manner of weather, lugging a huge, incommodious and appallingly heavy bag with them, in pursuit of a tiny and fantastically expensive ball, in a fanatical attempt to direct it into a hole the size of a beer glass half a mile away. If anything could be better calculated to convince one of the essential lunacy of the human race, I haven't found it.
After a theatre run, it took me a long time to start drinking again during the day.
Here's a toast to the roast that good fellowship lends, with the sparkle of beer and wine; May its sentiment always be deeper, my friends, than the foam at the top of the stein. Then here's to the heartening wassail, wherever good fellows are found; Be its master instead of its vassal, and order the glasses around.
We've shared good (times) We've shared good fries We've shared good (beers) But never goodbyes... Till now Mind how you go, good buddy
The feel of the place was deep, the prehistoric heartbeat of the rocks complicating the music, the people bright, all different kinds of dancers, smilers, swayers, swirlers, smokers, beer-drinking boppers, tripsters, spinners. I looked back at the crowd...and saw the show for a moment as a jewel...like a gem in a bracelet: an ornament on the body of the country, glittering in the coming darkness.
Deep-seated preferences cannot be argued about - you cannot argue a man into liking a glass of beer.
When you win you eat better, sleep better and your beer tastes better. And your wife looks like Gina Lollobrigida.
Managing an advertising agency isn't all beer and skittles. After fourteen years of it, I have come to the conclusion that the top man has one principle responsibility: to provide an atmosphere in which creative mavericks can do useful work.
I know of a brewer who sells more of his beer to the people who never see his advertising than to the people who see it every week. Bad advertising can unsell a product.
I no longer needed a reason for my existence, just a reason to live. And imagination, free will, love, humor, fun, music, sports, beer, and pizza are all good enough reasons for living. But living an honest life - for that you need the truth.
The horse and mule live thirty years And never know of wine and beers. The goat and sheep at twenty die Without a taste of scotch or rye. The cow drinks water by the ton And at eighteen is mostly done. The dog at fifteen cashes in Without the aid of rum or gin. The modest, sober, bone-dry hen Lays eggs for noggs and dies at ten. But sinful, ginful, rum-soaked men Survive three-score years and ten. And some of us, though mighty few Stay pickled 'til we're ninety-two.
You can find examples of how little we value ourselves everywhere you look. The signs on the front of the convenience stores where Stephen lives in Florida tell the story. Beer, ice, bread and milk are the big come-ons. The order of the words varies, but beer and ice are always two of the top four staples for sale. If we were all taking care of ourselves, wouldn't the convenience stores compete for our dollars with signs that read "Fruit, Vegetables, Bread, Milk"?
Women want a family life that glitters and is stable. They don't want some lump spouse watching ice hockey in the late hours of his eighteenth beer. They want a family that is so much fun and is so smart that they look forward to Thanksgiving rather than regarding it with a shudder. That's the glitter part. The stable part is, obviously, they don't want to be one bead on a long necklace of wives. They want, just like men, fun, love, fame, money and power. And equal pay for equal work.
Ask any Ferrari, Porsche or Ray-Ban salesperson about their average customer and you will very likely hear that he is not, as the adverts would have us believe, a virile young footballer with shiny hair, a rippling six pack and a trouser pouch like a new punch bag. He is, in fact, a middle-aged bloke wearing more chins than he started life with and carrying the clear evidence of forty years of beer and pies slung across his midriff.
The administration says the American people want tax cuts. Well, duh. The American people also want drive-through nickel beer night. The American people want to lose weight by eating ice cream. The American people love the Home Shopping Network because it's commercial-free.
Is beer good for runners? Sure...if it's the other guy drinking it.
Life ain't all beer and skittles, and more's the pity; but what's the odds, so long as you're happy?
I'd give a hundred dollars for a cold beer.
Cub fans, by consensus, are the best in baseball. Year after year, in good times and (mostly) bad, they turn out in vociferous numbers, sustaining themselves with a heavenly ichor that combines loyalty, criticism, cheerfulness, durability, rage, beer and hope, in exquisite proportions.
A teenage taste of beer aside, Mitt Romney does not consume alcohol. Which begs the question, will total abstention put his candidacy, perhaps even this great nation in jeopardy?
I put my own d*ck in my mouth. I was 14 and much more flexible at the time. It was soft and required a lot of pulling. I really wanted that case of beer.
I don’t intend to use beer as a crutch and drink until I pass out. So advice, keep an eye on that so you can get in there and get yourself drunk sex before it turns unpretty and drunk sex ends with me puking and / or passing out during the act.
Design is all about relationships. Unfortunately, many designers don’t fully appreciate this. Some of the best design work I’ve ever done was drinking coffee or beers with engineers, marketing people, and business development hustlers. And I wholeheartedly mean design work.
Bad people drink bad beer. You almost never see an empty bottle of Rochefort tossed onto the side of the road.
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