Last week we revoked his Godhead; we caught him operating a life without a license.

(Insert Goaltender here) doesn't know whether to cry or wind his watch.

Goaltending is a normal job, sure. How would you like it in your job if every time you made a small mistake, a red light went on over your desk and 15,000 people stood up and yelled at you?*

I think I'm losing my bottle. I think I'm going tonto.

He’s going to get drunk now, not so much because he can, but because we can’t,” I said.

The poor can’t hold their liquor.

Korea was becoming somewhat civilized, at least for the commissioned officers stationed there. An officers' club had been established near the artillery company's camp, and a three-quarter-ton truck was en route to it carrying a supply of liquor. The truck broke down, and foolishly the driver decided to go for help. I was told that a GI named Gotch-Eye Ireland happened on that truck while the driver was away from it, examined it, and discovered its contents. Gotch-Eye hurried back to his battery, then went to the motor pool to obtain a three-quarter-ton vehicle and some help in order that he might "liberate" that whiskey. The people in the motor pool, of course, had to be involved, for the motor pool sergeant had to sign off on the truck.
The soldiers "liberated" the bourbon, scotch, gin, and vodka, leaving sissy liquor such as creme de menthe and sherry for the officers. They hid the truck, and when night fell they removed the bottles from it and took them into the hills. At daylight, MPs conducted a tent-to-tent search but found no trace of the liquor. The captain who commanded the battery called a meeting of all the noncoms. "I am upset," he said, "but I will be even more upset if I do not have periodically in my tent a bottle of bourbon. If I do not, I will take further action. I will see that another search is conducted and that the perpetrators of this incident are court-martialed."
Needless to say, the captain got his bourbon. Apparently, he thought as the dogfaces, who could only get three-two beer, did- that the liquor would be wasted on some of the shavetail second lieutenants who drank at the officers' club. The enlisted men used to say of the second lieutenants that their motto was, "We're gentlemen because we're officers." The GI's response was, "Yeah, but it took an Act of Congress to make you one."

I once had to dispense with a literary agent because she drank too much. She was very surprised but I pointed out to her, quite logically I thought, that one of us had to be sober and it certainly wasn't going to be me.

I claim that in losing the spinning wheel we lost our left lung. We are, therefore, suffering from galloping consumption. The restoration of the wheel arrests the progress of the fell disease.

For some idiot reason, the idea of going into the drink with a misspelled safety device weirded Bryce out.

Work is the curse of the drinking classes.

It was heartbreaking because I found out he played for your team, not mine.

Robert, I don't like people who bottle out. So Robert - You're fired. (to Robert Goodwin when he was fired before the final boardroom in the second task)

George was a hell-raiser, prone to drink and miss a gig,