Apropos of Nothing

January 23, 2008

The Wisdom of Norm Peterson

Filed under: Fun Stuff,Humour,Quotes — aproposofnothing @ 11:34 pm

Remember “Cheers?”

“Hey Norm, how’s the world been treating you?”
“Like a baby treats a diaper.”

“Can I draw you a beer, Norm ?”
“No, I know what they look like. Just pour me one.”

“How’s a beer sound, Norm?”
“I dunno. I usually finish them before they get a word in.”


“What’s shaking, Norm?”
“All four cheeks and a couple of chins.”

“What would you say to a nice beer, Normie?”
“Going Down?”

“What’s new, Normie?”
“Terrorists, Sam. They’ve taken over my stomach and they’re demanding beer.”

“What’ll it be, Normie?”
“Just the usual Coach. I’ll have a froth of beer and a snorkel.”

“What would you say to a beer, Normie?”
“Daddy wuvs you.”

“What’d you like, Normie?”
“A reason to live. Give me another beer.”

“What’ll you have, Normie?”
“Well, I’m in a gambling mood Sammy. I’ll take a glass of whatever comes out of that tap.”
“Looks like beer, Norm.”
“Call me Mister Lucky.”

“What’d you say, Norm?”
“Any cheap, tawdry thing that will get me a beer.”

“What would you say to a beer, Norm?”
“Hiya, sailor. New in town?”

(Coming in from the rain)
“Evening everybody.”
Everybody: “Norm!”
“Still pouring, Norm?”
“That’s funny, I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“Whaddya say, Norm?”
“Well, I never met a beer I didn’t drink.”

“Would you like a beer Mr.. Peterson?”
“No, I’d like a dead cat in a glass.”

“How’s life treating you?”
“It’s not, Sammy, but you can.”

“What’s the story, Mr. Peterson?”
“The Bobbsey twins go to the brewery. Let’s cut to the happy ending.”

“Hey Mr. Peterson, there’s a cold one waiting for you.”
“I know, if she calls, I’m not here.”

“Beer, Norm?”
“Have I gotten that predictable? Good.”

“What’s going on, Mr. Peterson?”
“A flashing sign in my gut that says, ‘Insert beer here.'”

“Hey Mr. Peterson, Jack Frost nipping at your nose?”
“Yep, now let’s get Joe Beer nipping at my liver, huh?”

“What’s going on, Mr. Peterson?”
“Another layer for the winter, Wood.”

“Whatcha up to, Norm?”
“My ideal weight if I were eleven feet tall.”

“How’s it going Mr. Peterson?”
“Poor.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“No, I mean pour.”

“How’s life treating you, Norm?”
“Like it caught me sleeping with its wife.”

“Women. Can’t live with ’em … pass the beer nuts.”

“What’s going down, Normie?”
“My butt cheeks on that bar stool.”

“Pour you a beer, Mr. Peterson?”
“Alright, but stop me at one….make that one-thirty.”

“How’s it going Mr. Peterson?”
“It’s a dog eat dog world, Woody and I’m wearing Milk Bone underwear.

“What’s the story, Norm?”
“Boy meets beer. Boy drinks beer. Boy meets another beer.”

“How’s about a beer, Norm?”
“That’s that amber sudsy stuff, right? I’ve heard good things about it!”

“What’s going on, Mr. Peterson?”
“The question is, `what’s going ‘in’ Mr. Peterson?” A beer, please, Woody.”

“Can I pour you a beer, Mr. Peterson?”
“A little early isn’t it, Woody?”
“For a beer?” “No, for stupid questions.”

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