Þetta snýr reyndar allt að Norm :)


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

”How about a beer, Norm?“
”Hey I'm high on life, Coach. Of course, beer is my life.“

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

”What's up, Norm?“
”Corners of my mouth, Coach.“

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

”Beer, Normie?“
”Uh, Coach, I dunno, I had one this week. Eh, why not, I'm still young.“

”Normie, Normie, could this be Vera?“
”With a lot of expensive surgery, maybe.“

”What's up, Normie?“
”The temperature under my collar, Coach.“

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

”What's up, Norm?“
”Everything that's supposed to be.“

”What's new, Normie?“
”Terrorists, Sam. They've taken over my stomach. 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. Gimme another beer.“

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

”What do you say, Norm?“
”Any cheap, tawdry thing that'll get me a beer.“

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

”Whaddya say, Norm?“
”Well, I never met a beer I didn't drink. And down it goes.“

”What's your pleasure, Mr. Peterson?“
”Boxer shorts and loose shoes. But I'll settle for a beer.“

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

”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!“

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

”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, and 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.“

”How's life in the fast lane?“
”Dunno, can't get on the on-ramp.“

”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 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.“

”What's up, Normie?“
”My nipples, it's freezing out there."

CLIFF: Normie, so how is business going?
NORM: Lousy, Cliffy. I'm so damn busy painting, I haven't had time to stop in here and visit with my best friend.
CLIFF: I missed you too, ya' big lug.
NORM: Well, actually Cliffy, I meant Mr. Beer.


WOODY: How would a beer feel, Mr. Peterson?
NORM: Pretty nervous if I was in the room.


WOODY: Hey, Mr. Peterson, what's up?
NORM: The warranty on my liver.


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.


WOODY: What's going on, Mr. Peterson?
NORM: The question is what's going IN Mr. Peterson. A beer please, Woody.

COACH: What's the story, Norm?
NORM: Thirsty guy walks into a bar. You finish it.

What would you say to a nice beer, Normie?
NORM: Going down?


Little early in the day for a beer, isn't it Norm?
NORM: So float a corn flake in it.

What'll you have, Norm?
NORM: Fame, fortune, and fast women.
How 'bout a beer?
NORM: Even better.




kv.
cul-de-sac