Drinking metaphors

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He drank like it was okay to be dank in public. He drank like a swelling in his neck needed to be accommodated. Liquid phased out of being when he wanted it. He drank as if to fill his emptiness that was himself. He drank like there was no more blood hounding him for his duties. He drank like he had friends, who cheered him on once but who were all dead now. He drank like he had honor he never had. He drank so that he could shrivel inward into this other corpse that he dreamed of wasting in forever. He drank like it was his job to drink all the leftover beers at the comedy club. He drank like he stank: he stank good, very good.

The drunk was drinking until he was drunk.

>He drank like OP's mom when she came to terms with the walking, talking embarrassment that her stanky-ass pussy wrought upon the world

Shoveling the remains of his drink down his throat, his mouth clamped shut, shuddering as the ice desolved with the last bit of taste.

He drank like a sad man in a happy hour, like an ocean doth a river, yes, indeed he did, drink like a fraught child wrangling at the teet of le goddess of vine, like a gutter suckling down salty rain, he held his chalice toward the heavens and prayed, I reckon, frankly, he drank like there was no today, he drank like he was the distilled, returning himself unto his truest form, was he seeking purity, was he corrupted, and seeking corruption more, of a wetter kind, did he want his spirit drenched, soaked in the divine oils of the calmed nerve, or the rambunctious howls of the prowled wolf, he drank, his friends said he drank like a champ, the legends say he drank like a legend, his wife said he drank like an asshole, an asshole... sucking up the soupy poop?

I hope that was ironic

He felt the sting of the liquor passing his throat, as natural to him as a sunrise and far more frequent in its passing.

He drank as if Ganesha, the elephant-headed Hindu deity, has stuck his mystic trunk deep into his mortal bowels and was siphoning the world's liquor through his frayed intestines and into the god's unquenchable gullet with the force of seventy-four hurricanes.

He drank as if he were already engulfed in the devil's fire.