You see alchy after alchy all up and down Maxwell Street.Some alkie came in and asked for a quarter.

You're nothing but an old barfly!Some barfly staggered out of the tavern straight into the side of a car.

The barrel was full up and through for the evening.A tired and weepy barrel staggered in and fell into a booth in the corner.

Somebody give that bat a hand before he falls down.A tired old bat—still waving a bottle—met me on the stairs.

Look at the belly on that belcher!Harry is a confirmed belcher.

A couple of belchers wandered in about midnight. Other than that, the night is dead.I'm a belcher, and I know it.

This bender comes up to me and nearly kills me with his breath, asking for a match.In the dim light I could make out a few of the regular benders, but Harold wasn't there.

The guy's a blotter. He'll drink anything and lots of it.They say that Mr. Franklin is a blotter and needs treatment.

Pete was a booze artist for a decade before he realized what he was doing.A wobbly booze artist sat musing on the stool in the corner.

The bar was empty save for an old bottle propped against the side of a booth.That old girl is just a bottle. There's more booze in her than outside.

The bottle babies sat there, waiting to be thrown out at closing time.There is help for bottle babies.

Fred has become a committed brewster. He pounds one beer after another.A dedicated brewster can put away a six-pack in half an hour.

It takes a pretty good bankroll to be a real high-class bubblehead.Parttime bubbleheads go into operation at weddings and other celebrations.

You're a budhead, and you're getting worse.Here comes Charlie, my favorite budhead. How about a brew, Charlie?

Some old Christmas tree staggered by, muttering to herself.A well-dressed Christmas tree sat in the corner—lit up, of course.

Give the old crock some money, anything to get him outa here before he barfs or something.The crock wants booze, not money.

Buy the dip a drink. That'll shut him up for a while.She's sort of a closet dipso.

Poor old Jed is turning into a falling-down drunk.One more falling-down drunk in this neighborhood will not be anything new.

You are going to turn into a gargler if you don't let up on your drinking.Some old gargler froze to death last night.

Gert could have ended up a ginhead, but she went another route instead.A couple of ginheads sat in the corner booth silently.

You are turning into a regular glow worm.Gary came out of the bar and tripped over a napping glow worm near the entrance to the alley.

I'm afraid that Ernie is getting to be a groghound.I'm an old groghound from way back.

Old guzzle-guts here would like another drink.Don't call me guzzle- guts. I hardly ever have a drop.

Harry is getting to be quite a guzzler.A couple of guzzlers at the bar were carrying on a low conversation when Barlowe came in.

These hammerheads can't even hold a simple job for the most part.A couple of hammerheads stood in the alley, looking suspicious.

Two old heisters were lifting drink after drink and tossing them down.Wally is getting to be quite a heister.

Wally is a hellbender from way back.Jed is a world-class hellbender.

Jed is a classic hooch hound. He lives for the stuff.The party turned into a drinking session for hooch heads.

Ernie isn't a hoocher, you can say that for him.A hootcher staggered in and staggered right out again.

I'm afraid that Wally is becoming a hophead.Ernie is a well-established and incurable hophead.

Wally is a real horner. He has an enormous capacity.Jed is the king of horners around here.

Gary is a typical jagster. Drunk for a week and sober for three.There's not a lot that a doctor can do for a jagster like that.

Some of the jerkers have the DTs.Ask the jerker to come in and have a drink.

The jinglers have taken over the streets.Where do all these jinglers sleep?

What does this old job want besides a drink?Give the job a drink and make somebody happy today.

A couple of old juggers sat in the alley, trying to figure out how to get some more.He's a jugger, and he will never change.

Buy the jughead a drink. That'll shut him up.You don't see jugheads at parties as much as you used to.

Freddy is a juice freak. He won't touch dolls.Juice freaks end up with addictions, too.

Hank is turning into a regular juicehead.The tavern is always filled with juicers on Friday night.

The street was empty except for an old lapper staggering home.The party was ruined by the antics of a few lappers.

I was afraid of it for some time, but now I know. Tracy is a lush.There were four confirmed lushes at the party, but they all passed out and didn't bother us much.

This old mooner from up in the hills wandered into town last Friday and died in the town square.There must be dozens of mooners who beg in town in the day and drink in the woods at night.

The guy's a mop. There is nothing you can do till he decides he's had enough.The mops hang out here looking for handouts.

There is an old oilhead over there on the street corner.Paul gave the oilhead a quarter, knowing it would be spent on cheap wine.

Here comes Mr. Franklin—one of the faithful—staggering down the street.I saw one of the faithful standing at the bar.

Look at Otis over there, propped up against the wall.Have another beer, Otis?

What a pickler. He could drink all night.The cops brought in about thirty picklers last night.

Get that smelly plonko out of here!He's a plonko if I ever saw one.

Get that smelly rumdum out of here.I don't want to end up like a dirty rum-dum.

Ask that rummy to leave before he throws up.There is a rummy at the door asking for a handout.

The tavern was full of aged shufflers hoping for a handout.Some shuffler barfed in the shrubbery.

The old lady is a sipster who says she drinks a little wine to help her arthritis.Most sipsters have a really fine excuse like that.

Jerry's a skate and he knows it.A couple of skates celebrating the new year ran into my car.

Some old soak lay moaning in the gutter.Hank is getting to be a real soak.

Uncle Charlie was a soaker, and the family never realized it.Give the old soaker a drink to shut him up.

What does the old sop want, a handout?Give the old sop a buck and tell him to beat it.

The best thing you can do for a souse like John is to take away his car keys.It's hard to live with a souse.

The sozzler leaned against the tavern window. I thought he would break it.A sozzler staggered by—reeking of gin.

That silly spud thinks we can't smell what's on her breath.The old spud on the third floor fell down a flight or two and broke his hip.

She was a spunge, and she wasn't going to do anything about it.Is there treatment for spunges like her?

It's no fun living with a squiff.Is there anything that can be done for a confirmed squiff?

Who is that stew in the corner?There are three stews sleeping in the alley.

You're going to end up a stew bum if you don't lay off the moonshine.Those stew bums could use a bath.

Some stick threw up on my car.Get that stick out of here before he makes a mess.

Some stiff staggered by—belching clouds of some beery smell.The guy's a stiff, and you want to run him for mayor? Even in this town that's going too far.

Ted is a suds-swiller and Bill won't touch the stuff. What strange roommates.Wayne's goal in life is to be a professional suds-swiller.

That guy is a swizzlestick. Don't give him any more.You had better slow down, or you will turn into a swizzle-stick.

You're turning into a real tank, Harry.Who's the tank-up carrying the thermos of whiskey?

When I came into the bar, a few tankers were in the back.Who's the tanker carrying the thermos of gin?

Yes, I'd call Bill a thirsty soul—he always seems thirsty for booze.There was a long line of thirsty souls waiting for the liquor joint to open.

Uncle Ben was a tippler—a harmless one.He started drinking at fifteen and has been a tippler ever since.

The old toast stumbled in front of a car.A couple of toasts tried to get us to buy them drinks.

Hank offered the tooter a drink, which was gratefully accepted, of course.I think you are turning into a tooter.

Harry was a two-fisted drinker, a caveman, and a lady-killer.The world is filled with guys who aspire to be two-fisted drinkers.

Arthur is getting to be a regular whale. What does he drink?A pair of whales was in the corner booth tanking up.

By midnight the winos had gone into their stupors, and we got that part of town to ourselves.I gave the wino some money to help him stop the shakes.

A couple of yeasters in the back of the tavern were singing a dirty song.Who's the yeaster with the bloodshot eyes?

The zonker just can't help himself.If I had known she was a confirmed zonker, I never would have given her a drink.