My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

Aries, you won’t want to get out of bed this week. Your hair is matted with amaretto and coconut milk. Shake it off and take a shower. Better still, head for a public bath and inflict your funk on others. After some heavy-duty scrubbing you’ll be ready to give that work presentation the amaretto was helping you forget. Chill out, it will succeed, and then you’ll be invited to a nice restaurant. Drinks on the corporate card 🙂

Taurus, try to write down your dreams as soon as you wake up. This will be especially challenging, as pomegranate vodka tends to quash REM sleep. Do try though, and add some triple sec to shake your neurons up—it may lead to an exciting invention or piece of art, which in turn will lead to an enchanting flirtation.

Cupid aims right at you on Sunday, Gemini, although the stars like to hedge their bets by saying love/fornication could happen on any of the days preceding or following that blessed day. Vodka will break the ice, but your longterm partner may break your head when he/she sees you mating with someone new. Ouch!

Cancer, over the years your relationships have changed. While some friendships have slipped away, the alcohol-fueled ones are going strong, yet becoming less meaningful. Rather than overanalyze it, throw yourself into a creative project. Sip just enough Bailey’s to retain your presence of mind, especially if power tools are involved. Stop thinking about sleeping with that Aquarius; it’s not worth the hassle.

Leo, you’re usually good at standing up for yourself, but this week people use and abuse you. Could it be that Jose Cuervo compromises your feelings of self-worth? OMG! Seek out positive people who assist you in pursuing self-awareness. Mind your boundaries and tell the neighbor who wants to borrow a cup of sugar to take a hike.

The stars call for dangerous personal interactions this week, Virgo. They say (they say) your marriage or longterm relationship will benefit if you have a fling with a stranger. Keep in mind that the stars are really far away and pretty busy carrying out complex nuclear reactions that convert lighter elements into heavy ones. They don’t know shit about love and sex, and when they tell you to mix stout and cider they have no idea how it will turn out. That shit would evaporate on the surface of a star. It wouldn’t even exist in the first place. Stupid stars.

Libra, your loyalty is challenged this week. Be careful about excessive horniness. If you have a spouse, carefully consider the implications of straying.  Maybe you’d do better to avoid temptation and hole up with a 46er of Seagrams 7. If you need to soul-search, find an Aries to talk to, but not one covered in rancid coconut milk and amaretto.