Extra-oral imbibing

I always enjoyed the following Ben Jonson lines as a classy prelude to John Denver’s Please Daddy, don’t get drunk this Christmas:

Now it turns out that there’s more of this bastardly bevying going on. Here, from Benito Pérez Galdós’ Zumalacárregui (1898), a liberal army has been lured to certain slaughter in the mountains of Navarre by the Carlist general of the title:

Some pillock has started up a chain of English theme pubs around here called The City Arms, one example of which I was dragged into last night. Even more miserable and inadequate than their “Irish” predecessors, I hope he’ll be able to find an orifice in which to stick them.

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