Norm: A flashing sign in my gut that says, ‘Insert beer here.’
Norm: Hey I’m high on life, Coach… of course, beer is my life.
Another layer for the winter, Woody.
Norm: A reason to live. Give me another beer.
Norm: Well that’s tough to say, Coach. Let’s see I’m overweight, unemployed, separated, depressed, starting to drink too much. My problem is I’ve never been happier.
Norm: A transfusion with a head on it.
Norm: Wonders… doesn’t care… but she wonders.
Norm: If you weren’t wearing that uniform, we’d all step outside.
It’s not, Sammy, but you can.
Norm: Like it caught me sleeping with its wife.
Norm: I am going to need something to kill time before my second beer. How about a first one?
Norm: My butt cheeks on that bar stool.
Norm: The question is, “What’s going in Mr. Peterson?” A beer please, Woody.
Norm: Yeah, now let’s get Joe Beer nipping at my liver.
Norm: Boy meets beer. Boy drinks beer. Boy meets another beer.
Norm: Science is seeking a cure for thirst and I happen to be the guinea pig.