This bloke was so pissed, he thought his vomit had come to life!
Drunk all the time, feeling fine on elderberry wine.
I succeeded in bewitching a fair number and in being intoxicated with my mistakes.
Intoxicated? The word did not express it by a mile. He was oiled, boiled, fried, plastered, whiffled, sozzled, and blotto.
It made me high. It really did.
It's always difficult to make conversation with a drunk, and there's no denying it, the sober are at a disadvantage with him.
I was so high, I needed a stepladder to scratch my own ass.
The drunken man is a living corpse.
Some of you fellers are getting 'Whiskey Slick.'
No, Lord Maccon was riproaring, tumble down, without a doubt, pickled beyond the gherkin.
Having been familiar with "drunk" once or twice myself, that lick just came to me - and yeah, it sounded very drunk, so I presented it to Alice [Cooper]. It felt like he wrote the lyrics in about a minute.
He raised his brows. "You're drunk." "Am not!" He gave me a bland look. "A drunk's famous last words before they fall flat on their face.
A God-intoxicated man. [Ger., Gott-trunkener Mensch.]
A drunkard is like a whiskey-bottle, all neck and belly and no head.
Im too hung for womens underwear.
That was one thing you found out when you were stoned, or wasted, or feverish: that the world was always turning and that only a healthy mind could block out the sickening whirl of it.
Talking to a drunk person was like talking to an extremely happy, severely brain-damaged three-year-old.
Is he under the influence or something?
Dead drunk is the term I think of, insensible, neither cool nor warm, without a head or a foot. To be drunk is to be intimate with a fool.
I'm not going to lie to you fellas, I've been drinking
“Bella, I've already expended a great deal of personal effort at this point to keep you alive. I'm not about to let you behind the wheel of a vehicle when you can't even walk straight. Besides, friends don't let friends drive drunk,” he quoted with a chuckle. I could smell the unbearably sweet fragrance coming off his chest. “Drunk?” I objected. “You're intoxicated by my very presence.” He was grinning that playful smirk again.
Doing a life study while drunk and in the process of being seduced is never a formula for quality art.
Oh dear! A drunken infidel weaver! said Mr. Hale to himself.
I was somewhat drunk with what I had done. And I am always one to prefer being sober.
Partake of love as a temperate man partakes of wine; do not become intoxicated.
