The first riddle I ever heard, one familiar to almost every Jewish
child, was propounded to me by my father:
	"What is it that hangs on the wall, is green, wet -- and
whistles?"
	I knit my brow and thought and thought, and in final perplexity
gave up.
	"A herring," said my father.
	"A herring," I echoed.  "A herring doesn't hang on the wall!"
	"So hang it there."
	"But a herring isn't green!"  I protested.
	"Paint it."
	"But a herring isn't wet."
	"If it's just painted it's still wet."
	"But -- " I sputtered, summoning all my outrage, "-- a herring
doesn't whistle!!"
	"Right, " smiled my father.  "I just put that in to make it
hard."
		-- Leo Rosten, "The Joys of Yiddish"

To be intoxicated is to feel sophisticated but not be able to say it.