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Wisdom from Norm Peterson

Norm was the real star of Cheers. Below the world’s greatest beer belly shares his thoughts on his favorite quencher.

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

"Beer, Normie?" "Uh, Coach, I dunno, I had one this week. Oh, why not, I’m still young."

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

"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’s your pleasure, Mr. Peterson?" "Boxer shorts and loose shoes. But I’ll settle for a beer."

"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."

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

"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’d you like, Normie?" "A reason to live. Gimme another beer."

"What do you say, Norm?" "Any cheap, tawdry thing that’ll get me a beer."

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

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

"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.’"

"Whaddya say, Norm?" "Well, I never met a beer I didn’t drink. And down it goes."

"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, Woody."

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

"Women. Can’t live with ’em, pass the beer nuts."

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

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

"How about a beer, Norm?" "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."