“I’d hate to be forced to drink my own vomit without throwing up, because what if they made me drink that too?”

“I want to gather up all the ink cartridges in the universe, because somewhere, mixed in with all that ink, is the next great American novel. And I’d love nothing more than to drink it.”

“They call alcohol spirits, because it’s the spirit turned liquid. Would you drink my soul if you knew I’d use it to get inside of you? After all, most men buy women alcohol so they can get inside them too.”

“I drink screwdrivers because they help me unwind.”

“One cup contains Starbucks coffee, and one holds diarrhea. But which is which? Drink it, and the one that doesn’t make you vomit is the diarrhea.”

“I drink coffee like a civilized man—alone in a cave, wearing a loincloth, and grunting in frustration because my club is too thick to fit in my cup to stir in the sugar.”

“Whenever I drink, I always have one too many. Of course, I only ever drink one.”