Norm: No, I’d like a dead cat in a glass.
Norm: If you weren’t wearing that uniform, we’d all step outside.
Norm: A transfusion with a head on it.
Norm: Yeah, now let’s get Joe Beer nipping at my liver.
Norm: Wonders… doesn’t care… but she wonders.
Norm: Coach: I don’t know. I’ll have one next week… what the heck, I’m young.
Norm: Like I just ran over its dog.
Another layer for the winter, Woody.
Norm: A thirsty guy walks into a bar. You finish it.
Norm: Yeah, she has to like you.
Norm: My butt cheeks on that bar stool.
Norm: I am going to need something to kill time before my second beer. How about a first one?
Norm: Terrorists, Sam. They’ve taken over my stomach and they’re demanding beer.