The thing about alcohol, though non-drinkers, non-alcoholics and reformed alcoholics may falsely dispute this, is that each day, or night on booze, is a different journey, the destination being a mystery, but quite possibly the...

Day zero, the disaster, the serious shock, the near self-destruction.Day two, the suffering, the repentance, the depression, and the promises.Day three, the recovery, the wall, some light, and the joy.Day four, the strength, the resolution,...

And even in the open air the stench of whiskey was appalling. To this fiendish poison, I am certain, the greater part of the squalor I saw is due. Many of these vermin were obviously...

The day I became a writerit wasn’t the day a whore paid me in sexin exchange for one of my bookswhich happened often and more and moreas time went onit wasn’t the first time someone...

The battle with the bottle is nothing so novel.

A father and son walked into a bar, and the bartender didn’t serve either because the one didn’t look old enough. And he was right. Who becomes a dad in middle school?

To every party, I bring my own booze. No need to help me carry it, as I walk in with it already in my bloodstream.

I spent a lot of money on booze, birds, and fast cars. The rest I just squandered.

An empty bottle of Jack is almost just as beautiful as a new and unopened bottle…in the same sense as looking down at muddied feet, and looking back the way you came. The journey you’ve...

I’m a competitor. I once placed fifth in a bottle of whiskey.

I wish I had money now. If only I’d saved my allowance growing up, instead of squandering it on balls, balloons, booze, and floozies.

The door is crackedWe used to meetlike water does landnonot thatmore like when skin touches skinkissing fingertipsor when air escapes a lung and is felt across the worldI’ve leapt over cracks in sidewalksand swallowed away...

I just invented a device that eliminates vice. It looks like a bottle of booze, only it’s empty, because I just drank it.

My head is in another dimension. My feet are talking to their soles. My nose is detecting a hint of sweaty, overpumped poon. There’s a spider corpse perpetually hanging on the wall next to my...

You know you’ve drunk too much when you run out of booze. It’s the same with love. Also, I’m drunk.

I’d like to invent a product that’ll turn 18-year-olds into 21-year-olds, and sell it in front of bars.

Reaction timeTouch the underside of a penny you find on the streetDoesn’t feel any different unless you close your eyesI can taste the copper in my mouth nowseeping from between my teethThere’s an explanation I’m...

At church, during communion, they give out free wine. Whoa! Talk about a great place to drink and meet women.

Hemingway is overrated,Twain is even more lost at sea,And all truths point to the mouth of a woman,Where both her whispers and her screams,Are born.Pour another glass, Beer, wine, whiskey,I don’t care,So long as its...

Alcohol helps you to loosen up to make memories you won’t forget, and then it helps you to forget them completely.

The pulse of New York City can be found on the bent elbows of the patrons in Pete’s Tavern.

I never had a childhood. Not like the rest of them anyway. I had a starting point from which I have never stopped running.

I used the boos, and not the booze, as motivation. That led to applause, which I drank up like an alcoholic. I need a refill.

I decided to masturbate with shampoo instead of conditioner today. Because yolo. Things Jesus never said.

Everyone should drink of me, but I shouldn’t be drunk by everyone. I should be drunk all by myself.

The whiskey kicked like a mugger.

Being crazy, for the rest of us, is a form of sanity.

Gin is a confusing drink. It’s the only liquid that’s both wet and dry.

I’ve always felt that distant train whistles heard in the dead of night are the universe’s way of letting us know the best days are neither ahead nor behind us…they’re happening right now, cradled in...

The no-booze rule is one of several shams perpetuated by certain religious groups, presumably to keep their flocks in line. After all, what’s a shepherd to do with drunk sheep? So take your medicine, but...

Let me ask you this: How many days do you have left, if any, in the life you promised for yourself yesterday?

My love is like an empty bottle of wine. If you’re wondering, my ex wife drank it all.

Forget plastic surgery. Enhance your beauty by getting those around you drunk.

Somebody get me a bottle of booze—and a reason to quit drinking. I fell in love twice today, and I only encountered one other person.

…you’re either gonna spend your life fucking pussy, or taking it to church.

If I were an alcoholic, I’d work at a wine farm, where grape booze grows on trees, bottled and ready to chug.

I drank so much booze I was bamboozled. Alcohol makes my mind as discombobulated as love makes my heart. I’d sure appreciate it if you poured me a large glass of romance.

I didn’t chug the hairspray because I’m an alcoholic. I drank it to style my throat hairs.

All I cared about that summer were suntans, beaches, boys and booze.

Life will hack off your head and shit down your neck every chance it gets. I’ve found that consuming drugs and booze, listening to music and always having an excuse in the best way to...

She likes her wine white, and that’s how I like my clam chowder. So chuggable!

Whiskey burns—my throat, not a forest. Love burns—my heart, not a forest. As for the forest, it burnt itself. At least that’s what I told the police during their interrogation.

I drink screwdrivers because they help me unwind.

When he was dry, he believed it was alcohol he needed, but when he had a few drinks in him, he knew it was something else, possibly a woman; and when he had it all...

So you mean to tell me you won’t fuck anyone you don’t share some kind of deep emotional connection with? What a sad, depressing, truly horrible life you must lead…

If you could pour my love like it was a bottle of wine, would you have one glass or two? That was a trick question, because the answer is you’d drink it all—straight out of...

I had a dream where I drank my own grandma. What she was doing disguised as a bottle of booze isn’t entirely clear to me.

I can always say no to a bottle of booze, but only after saying yes to the alcohol inside.

A fine young man and a fine young felly he always was, except that in the old days, before you began coming in here, Mr. Witherwax, he maybe had too much money and spent too...

Only the dead have seen the end of war.” Perhaps the death of us all is called for in this time of emotional desperation. War is a product of the mind; only with the death...