Linux Drugs

Police: Good evening, are you the host?
Host:   No.
Police: We've been getting complaints about this party.
Host:   About the drugs?
Police: No.
Host:   About the guns, then?  Is somebody complaining about the guns?
Police: No, the noise.
Host:   Oh, the noise.  Well that makes sense because there are no guns
        or drugs here.  (An enormous explosion is heard in the
        background.)  Or fireworks.  Who's complaining about the noise?
        The neighbors?
Police: No, the neighbors fled inland hours ago.  Most of the recent
        complaints have come from Pittsburgh.  Do you think you could
        ask the host to quiet things down?
Host:   No Problem.  (At this point, a Volkswagon bug with primitive
        religious symbols drawn on the doors emerges from the living
        room and roars down the hall, past the police and onto the
        lawn, where it smashes into a tree.  Eight guests tumble out
        onto the grass, moaning.)  See?  Things are starting to wind
        down.

Preserve Wildlife!  Throw a party today!

Recipe for a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster:
        (1) Take the juice from one bottle of Ol' Janx Spirit
        (2) Pour into it one measure of water from the seas of
                Santraginus V  (Oh, those Santraginean fish!)
        (3) Allow 3 cubes of Arcturan Mega-gin to melt into the
                mixture (properly iced or the benzine is lost.)
        (4) Allow four liters of Fallian marsh gas to bubble through it.
        (5) Over the back of a silver spoon, float a measure of
                Qualactin Hypermint extract.
        (6) Drop in the tooth of an Algolian Suntiger.  Watch it dissolve.
        (7) Sprinkle Zamphuor.
        (8) Add an olive.
        (9) Drink... but... very carefully...

Riffle West Virginia is so small that the Boy Scout had to double as the
town drunk.

Romance, like alcohol, should be enjoyed, but should not be allowed to
become necessary.
                -- Edgar Friedenberg

Said the attractive, cigar-smoking housewife to her girl-friend: "I got
started one night when George came home and found one burning in the ashtray."

Sam:   What do you know there, Norm?
Norm:  How to sit.  How to drink.  Want to quiz me?
                -- Cheers, Loverboyd

Sam:   Hey, how's life treating you there, Norm?
Norm:  Beats me. ...  Then it kicks me and leaves me for dead.
                -- Cheers, Loverboyd

Woody: How would a beer feel, Mr. Peterson?
Norm:  Pretty nervous if I was in the room.
                -- Cheers, Loverboyd

Sam:   What's the good word, Norm?
Norm:  Plop, plop, fizz, fizz.
Sam:   Oh no, not the Hungry Heifer...
Norm:  Yeah, yeah, yeah...
Sam:   One heartburn cocktail coming up.
                -- Cheers, I'll Gladly Pay You Tuesday

Sam:   Whaddya say, Norm?
Norm:  Well, I never met a beer I didn't drink.  And down it goes.
                -- Cheers, Love Thy Neighbor

Woody:  What's your pleasure, Mr. Peterson?
Norm:   Boxer shorts and loose shoes.  But I'll settle for a beer.
                -- Cheers, The Bar Stoolie

Sam:  What do you say, Norm?
Norm: Any cheap, tawdry thing that'll get me a beer.
                -- Cheers, Birth, Death, Love and Rice

Sam:  What do you say to a beer, Normie?
Norm: Hiya, sailor.  New in town?
                -- Cheers, Woody Goes Belly Up

Norm: [coming in from the rain] Evening, everybody.
All:  Norm!  (Norman.)
Sam:  Still pouring, Norm?
Norm: That's funny, I was about to ask you the same thing.
                -- Cheers, Diane's Nightmare

Sam:  What's going on, Normie?
Norm: My birthday, Sammy.  Give me a beer, stick a candle in
      it, and I'll blow out my liver.
                -- Cheers, Where Have All the Floorboards Gone

Woody: Hey, Mr. P.  How goes the search for Mr. Clavin?
Norm:  Not as well as the search for Mr. Donut.
       Found him every couple of blocks.
                -- Cheers, Head Over Hill