Month: December 2012

ASTROLIQUOR for December 28 to January 3—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

Aries, your finances are good and fucked. You spent a ton of money this holiday season, and you haven’t slowed down. If you don’t get yourself under control, you’ll be crying for months. Start by eliminating solid food. It costs a lot of money. Next, stop buying Skyy and Grey Goose. Stick with rotgut vodka until your bank balance looks up. Good luck!

Taurus, you’ll finish an important project this week. Don’t be shy to brag! Modesty will get you nowhere, and if you start muttering about how “it was nothing,” people will think you’re a douche. An Aquarius will ask you to be Designated Driver at New Year. Consider it a compliment, and graciously accept. Stay away from lottery kiosks, fruit, depilatories, and Kool-Aid.

That person you met in June is starting to annoy you, Gemini. As your relationship falls apart, another person steps in to console you. Don’t misread this as poaching; your new friend isn’t into you at all, and really just wants to mooch your Jack Daniel’s. The next few months will be frivolous and shallow, just the way you like.

Cancer, you’re in for a harmonious week. Communication is excellent with partners and friends; work is productive; your ideas are irresistible; and the stars aren’t calling for any bar fights. You have the boss’s ear at work, so speak up about what you want. (Leave the flask of Absolut at home.) A Pisces might give you flowers.

Leo, there’s a creepy Sagittarius hanging around. Stay sober around this weirdo. You can, however, get loaded with Aquarians. You’ll experience wild mood swings as you party with them, however; everyone knows Aquarians are constantly lit up on vodka and vermouth, and they tend to lurch drunkenly into other people’s horoscopes.

Virgo, you’re being goaded by Aries and Aquarius types. They want you to mix up a great big batch of this:

  • 1 cup vodka
  • 2 cups white wine
  • 2 cups lager
  • 1 cup blackcurrant liqueur

Hurry up and mix it, because a Pisces is going to try to talk you out of it.

Libra, take the week off work and consume nothing but vodka, gin, light rum, tequila, and Blue Curacao. Friends will drop in unexpectedly; when they see what you’re mixing, they’ll stay. This means that if you’re wearing a thong, you should put some pants on over it, just to be polite. February looks good for love, and you don’t want to scare anyone off.

You had some troubles in October, Scorpio, but things are looking better. Continue to avoid conflict, and chill out if colleagues are being lazy at work. Everything is going to improve in January, although the voices in your head might get louder. They’re asking for Grand Marnier with coffee and chocolate sprinkles.

Sagittarius, you’re entering an extra-happy phase. Only do those things you feel like doing. Make some artwork, play games, and speak your mind. A Cancer figures prominently…a crazy drinking buddy on a scale you haven’t experienced before. Who on earth would frappé red wine, Coke, tequila, bananas, raisins, and champagne? You might, this week.

Remy Martin and Mountain Dew, Capricorn—that’s what this week has in store for you, along with family cuddles, and one or two late (and weird) Christmas gifts. You are very precise at Sudoku and crosswords, even while gooned. This is very special indeed, but don’t be tempted to think your driving will be similarly enhanced this week. No car keys for you!

Aquarius, you wander in and out of a lot of other astrological signs’ lives this week, mostly being a nuisance, but also inspiring them to break out the Bacardi. Try not to panhandle outside the liquor store; better opportunities are coming up in January. Watch out for Scorpios; one of them wants to take you to an Anthony Robbins seminar.

Pisces, get ready for a week of sexy talk, or at least some graphic descriptions of potentially sexy things. What that means the stars won’t be specific about; we all know how stupid the stars are and that if we’re being honest they are just massive balls of gas exploding in space. If you listen to them, they say: apply for a loan, have a big party, give some flowers to a Cancer, and volunteer to be Designated Driver at New Year. Someone has to do it. Rent a bus and be a pal to all your friends.

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Maury Christmas!

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LB is on the road

My Fellow Inebriates,

We are on the road. This is very dire, actually, because the trip from LBHQ to my Nana & Papa’s place requires a lot of driving, and this of course means no alcohol.

Now, maybe I’m naive, but I figured as soon as we boarded the ferry we could start the party. Surely there must be a fabulous bar aboard the ludicrously named Coastal Celebration?

Well. You, being smarter than a bear, will have guessed the answer is no. BC Ferries is part of the BC Highway system. This means you can’t get blasted on the ferry, then burn off the ramp into Victoria with a headful of Bloody Marys.

When I think of this I’m actually filled with admiration for the government of British Columbia. Because I would have forgotten that, after the awesome ferry ride (which wasn’t awesome because Scary and I had to remain on the vehicle deck—”Bears are too scary for the general public,” said my dad), there was a whole other leg of driving to do on the way to our next destination:

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Butchart Gardens

Score another one for BC Highways. You really wouldn’t want to stumble into something like Butchart Gardens and its megawatt Christmas display while wrecked out of your head. Nana & Papa treated the family to a tour. The object was to find all the items from the Twelve Days of Christmas, from a partridge in a pear tree to the twelve drummers. Okay, if you weren’t the designated driver, you could probably handle it drunk, but Butchart Gardens is vast. It takes a good two hours to really see everything. You’d certainly have to pee, and you wouldn’t want to be the jerk relieving yourself against the maids-a-milking.

NOT THAT LB GOT TO ENJOY THIS!! Once again, Scary and I were confined to the car. “Bears are just too frightening for the general public,” said my parents again, which started to make me suspicious.

After Butchart Gardens…the ride to Nana & Papa’s house in Mill Bay. OMG! A half hour’s drive, and we could break out the wine! But it was not to be, my fellow inebriates. A rockslide had occurred on the Malahat Highway, closing off a lane to traffic. We sat for two freaking hours with the kids going apeshit in their car seats. We listened to “Call Me Maybe” and “Party Rock Anthem” twenty times each. We ate a giant box of SweeTarts instead of dinner, which took the linings off our tongues.

The kids passed out from exhaustion (which was good). Finally traffic moved. At last we arrived. A bottle of COPPER MOON was opened (review coming), and even though the SweeTarts had seared all our tastebuds off, we enjoyed it.

And guess what’s sitting under Nana & Papa’s Christmas tree? A little box labelled “LB.”

And guess what else??

It sloshes. 🙂