Here's to the "noble experiment's" ignoble death.

Here's to Hell!
May the stay there
Be as much fun as the way there!

'Twas an evening in November,
As I very well remember.
I was strolling down the street in drunken pride,
But my knees were all aflutter,
So I landed in the gutter,
And a pig came up a lay down by my side.
Yes, I lay there in the gutter
Thinking thoughts I could not utter,
When a colleen passing by did softly say,
"You can tell a man that boozes
By the company he chooses."
At that the pig got up and walked away!

Source: "The Irish Pig"

To Mom's cooking:
May my wife never find out how bad it really was.

May his soul be forever tormented by fire
And his bones be dug up by dogs
And dragged through the streets of Minneapolis.

Source: Humorist Garrison Keillor

I'll drink to the Girls who do!
I'll drink to the Girls who don't!
But...I won't drink to Girls
Who say they will and won't!

Here's to Prohibiton: May it continue to reduce the number of men who think they can sing.

May the devil make a ladder of your backbone
While he is picking apples in the garden of Hell.

Source: Old Irish toast

We know it is true that we're wicked,
That our criminal laws are lax;
But here's to punishment for the man
Who invented the income tax

May you be in Heaven fifteen minutes
before the devil knows you are dead.

I'd rather have a dinner while I'm living, than a monument when I'm dead, for the dinner will be on my friends, while the monument would be on me.

On the chest of a barmaid in Sale
Were tattooed the prices of ale.
And on her behind,
For the sake of the blind,
Was the same information in Braille!

A dry heaven, and a wet hell;
So it is prohibitors tell;
But who would to a desert go,
When it's nice and wet and soggy
Down below?

Here's to Eileen O'Hara,
For her life it held no terror.
Born a virgin.
Died a virgin.
No runs, no hits, no errors.

To my bootlegger:
Here's hoping he never has to drink any of his own.