I drink sleep, but not like I drink coffee. I chug one and sip the other.

I would pour you a glass of wine, but wouldn’t it be more romantic if you sipped it out of my armpit?

I love when my cat crushes his forehead into mine like my skull is an empty beer can. But it’s not—there’s still a sip left.

When the silent flamingo dances pink with desire, I’ll be there, sipping on owl stares and kitten curls.

Go sip on gossip, and leave the coffee talk for me to chug. I’ll be in the kitchen, giggling like a schoolgirl if you need me.

My mama is my feeding bottle… She never goes empty no matter how deep I sip! Thank you mum!

The cup had a lot of volume, so I poured in a lot of noise and sipped it up to my ears. And what I heard didn’t smell like coffee, but it did taste like...

I wear glasses. They improve my hearing, Helen Keller style. And I sip coffee like a mute orator on a meteor. Drink up the deafness.

Boxing gloves/oven mitts could be used to fight fires. My uppercut can knock you out cold, like melting ice. Sip it slowly.