Another butterbeer, Tom! And a cracker for Polly!
Molly's large intestine really objected to her drinking.
The name's Bland. James Bland. I'll take a regular martini. No special instructions. No olives? No problem.
If I'm old enough to work in a sweatshop, you bet your ass I'm old enough to have a drink!
Call it what you want: School time, 8am, gin-o'clock; Jill loved this time of day!
What the hell am I talking about? I'm pretty much sloshed all the time!