Month: April 2013

7 life hacks, some of which are, like, totally not life hacks

My Fellow Inebriates,

If I see one more a common-sense procedure referred to as a “life hack,” I’m going to start ripping my fur out drinking (more).

Unload the bottom rack of your dishwasher first. That way, water won’t drip from the top dishes onto the bottom ones.

OMG. I mean, duh. This is less a “life hack” than “being sober while you unload the dishwasher.”

Instead of making a grocery list, photograph the shelves of your cupboards and fridge with your cell phone so you have a visual.

Right. I mean, a visual of all the stuff that’s not there—which you’ll remember. This seems less a “life hack” than “having shit for brains.”

Okay, so what are some useful life hacks?

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A good idea, sure…maybe with a better beer. Not really a hack, though.

 

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Okay, maybe. This is getting a little too close to solid-food territory, if you ask me.

 

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Now we’re talking. That, my fellow inebriates, is a hack.

 

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And that’s totally a hack. Too bad Dad didn’t think of it before the kids learned to swing themselves.

 

Still waiting for the ULTIMATE life hack… Okay, so it doesn’t really even have to be a hack. Just a good idea… A good idea that will get me loaded.

make apple cider

Bingo! And that’s what we’re doing next at LBHQ. Maybe Cider Monger will review us.

MICHEL TORNINO CUMA TORRONTES—Celebrating another Liebster

My Fellow Inebriates,

I was lucky enough to get nominated for another Liebster Award yesterday by the Lords of the Drinks.

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It’s been a long time since I was included in one of these awesome award chains—probably because I’m usually too drunk to read a ton of blogs, which makes me a real douchebag as far as the blogging community is concerned. But I do appreciate the nod, and despite already having a Liebster on my mantel, I’m going to treat it like an Oscar and put the new one beside it, with the understanding that I can stockpile as many of these damn things as I want, and the caveat that someday the Academy will hate me for it.

The Liebster comes with 11 highly topical questions formulated by the Lords of the Drinks. Here goes…

  1. What country are you from? CANADA.
  2. What’s your age? THE AGE OF REASON. YES, THAT MEANS I’M 7. BEARS ONLY LIVE TO BE ABOUT 32, AND THAT’S IF THEY DON’T GET SHOT FOR RAIDING SOMEONE’S CAMPSITE.
  3. How old were you when you first got drunk? A COUPLE OF DAYS OLD. I HAD JUST COME TO LIVE AT THE LIQUOR STORE AS A CHRISTMAS CHARITY BEAR, SO IT WAS INEVITABLE.
  4. What’s your favorite drink? GIN. AND RED WINE. AND BEER. AND SCOTCH. AND RYE.
  5. How many units of alcohol do you approximately drink per week? EIGHT, UNLESS I GET INCREDIBLY LUCKY.
  6. What kind of drunk are you (angry, sleepy, extra-social, horny, dramatic, dancing, etc.)? SOCIAL, EXTROVERTED, AMOROUS, HAPPY, SLEEPY, IN THAT ORDER.
  7. Is there any interesting local drinking custom, ritual, or game that you can share with us? LATELY I HAVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT YUKAFLUX, THE CANADIAN PRACTICE OF FLOATING CHUNKS OF FRUIT IN A COMMUNAL TUB OF HARD LIQUOR.
  8. Describe your most epic drunk night. “MOST”? I WOULD NEVER REMEMBER THE MOST EPIC ONE.
  9. Which drink (or mix) is certain to screw you up? TEQUILA WITH AN ILL-CONSIDERED WHITE WINE CHASER.
  10. Got any tips on how to have a good (drunk) night for little money? STAY AT HOME AND DRINK CHEAP HARD LIQUOR FROM A PLASTIC JUG.
  11. Is there a relatively unknown drink you can recommend us? RECENTLY AN ISLAY GIN HIT THE MARKET. I’M SALIVATING TO TRY IT.
I'd like to thank the Academy, which I hope will note the tasteful way P's kelly-green gown covers my six nipples.

I’d like to thank the Academy, which I hope will note the tasteful way this kelly-green gown (who’s dressing me? why, Miss P, of course…although I am a boy bear, damn it) covers my six nipples so tastefully.

And how do we celebrate our second Liebster? Why, with a gorgeous, aromatic Argentine Torrontés of course. Not only is MICHEL TORINO CUMA TORRONTES (2012) organic; it’s also a bargain at $13.99.

Torrontés is fast becoming my favorite varietal, with its lush, floral aromas and easy drinkability. The name Torrontés actually describes several types of grape, all originating with Muscat of Alexandria and varying in degree of fruity aromaticity. CUMA grapes come from the Cafayate region of northern Argentina, a landscape of dramatic variety situated about 1,700 metres above sea level where Tannat and Chardonnay grapes are also grown with great success.

CUMA torrontesCUMA is on the Consultants’ Choice rack at our local booze shop right now, and for good reason. Generously aromatic with apple, nectar, honey, melon, and spice, its olfactory invitation simply can’t be ignored. Even my dad, after trying a sip from Mum’s my  glass, went to the cupboard for his own glass, then matched me sip for sip until most of the bottle was gone. CUMA goes a step beyond FINCA LOS PRIMOS TORRONTES with an additional layering of flavors, firm structure, and decisive minerality. The finish is middling, so you find yourself going for the next sip sooner than you otherwise might and getting slightly drunk as a result. In other words, all good.

What makes CUMA’s value extraordinary is its organic methodology. Indeed, the word “CUMA” means “clean and pure” in the pre-Incan Aymara language. Michel Torino adopted ecological “zero farming” practices back in the 1990s, using organic material from the soil and weeds to farm the vineyards, thereby minimizing the use of chemicals and fertilizers, and achieving organic certification in 2005.

CUMA’s finesse and sophistication go beyond its modest price. It was the perfect bottle to celebrate a second Liebster, although—let’s face it—once I was half-shitfaced I had no inclination to go through the formalities of passing the torch. Go ahead, call me a dickhead.

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ASTROLIQUOR for April 26 to May 3, already in progress—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Once again the horoscope hasn’t come together on time, leaving you on your own to decide what to drink this week. Are you okay so far?  (I bet you are.)

Aries, you’ve recovered from an embarrassing ailment and now you’re feeling tip-top. Extra sleep has helped you, and perhaps even sobriety as well. But who can keep that shit up? Here’s your drink:

  • 2 oz vodka
  • 2 oz Southern Comfort
  • 2 oz grenadine
  • 2 oz sloe gin
  • 2 oz triple sec

Add a whole bunch of orange, cranberry, and pineapple juice—say, 4 oz each. Shake with ice in a cocktail shaker and you’ll be back to normal in no time.

Taurus, it’s “opposite week” for you, as you determinedly do exactly the opposite of what everyone says. Pretty normal for Taurus, only you’re in turbo mode this week. Shirk all responsibilities and run away from work. Toss your obligations in the toilet and celebrate with a Tidy Bowl: three parts vodka to one part Blue Curacao. Shake and swirl it with ice until cold, then (gratuitously enough) float four to six raisins in your concoction.

Gemini, thong season is making you insecure about your body. But your embarrassment goes beyond the physical; you are feeling generally inadequate. This happens to everybody, and the best cure is always getting drunk. But in such a self-flagellating mode, you might as well choose a punishing drink. That way you can exorcise your bad self-talk in one bracing go. I’m thinking Jagermeister with butterscotch schnapps and Coke. Yeah.

Cancer, don’t turn a blind eye to your financial strain. If you keep pissing away your paycheque you’ll be cadging drinks by June. As for July and August, thank goodness those months are warm (at least around here) because you might be sleeping outside. If you think I’m talking about my dad, who is a Cancer, I’m not. My dad needs to go out and blow all our money on alcohol right now. I’m talking about you other Cancers in the world. The stars advise you to buy a cheaper brand of bourbon. And what the hell—some cheap rum too. And maybe some Jagermeister. Say hi to my dad if you run into him.

Leo, the stars will test your relationships this week. Maybe you should just jettison the ones you don’t care about right now; it beats some of the more embarrassing alternatives. What alternatives? you ask. You know, Leo. Beating the shit out of each other on the sidewalk outside a bar, for instance. Putting away a litre of vodka and prancing around in a thong in front of someone who is not into you. Stuff like that.

Slow down, Virgo, or you’ll miss out on something monumental this week. Take time to perambulate and notice small details. The world doesn’t need you to be productive this week; in fact, most people won’t notice if you put away a few drinks behind the desk. The key is to take it slow. Here’s a luxurious libation you can sip:

  • 1 oz Bailey’s
  • 1 oz creme de menthe (buy the green kind)
  • 1 oz Frangelico

Libra, the stars hereby order you to leave the computer. Your eyes are rectangular from all your recent screen time, and meanwhile the real world suffers because you’re not participating in it. Okay, maybe it doesn’t suffer, but you could use some Vitamin D. You could also use a  Bacardi 151–inspired adventure. Mix equal parts vodka and coffee brandy, pour rum on top and light on fire (just for a second or you’ll lose too much booze).

Initiative will reward you socially, Scorpio. Don’t wait for friends to email you; most of your friends are really flaky and won’t bother. Send them a crazy message detailing some wildly irrational behavior in which you’re engaged right now—and which they’re missing out on. Now you’ve set the scene in motion, you’d better start doing something fun or your friends will arrive expecting madness and find you sitting at the kitchen table or trimming your nose hairs or something. Can’t think of anything wild to do? This will help:

  • 2 oz Jagermeister
  • 2 oz cinnamon schnapps
  • 2 oz Kahlua

Sagittarius, life will mistreat you this week. At times you’ll feel persecuted. But compare the present with, say, a decade ago. Chances are you’re much wiser and more successful now. Don’t you wish you could get into a time machine, go back ten years, and kick your young self’s ass? Ride out this bad week with lashings of vodka, Midori Melon, and Bacardi 151. You’ll need some limes with that.

Expect a message from an old contact, Capricorn—a curious message with suspicious subtext. Whether it’s harmless the stars don’t know; stars are just stupid balls of gas, after all. But do think twice about reuniting because this person has probably, over the last decade, turned into a total nutbag. Even though you’ll be hammered when you receive the message (email or text—again, the stars are too stupid to furnish details) on an elaborate concoction of Scotch, creme de menthe, Kahlua, Bailey’s, and black tea, you’re still a Capricorn, damn it, and that means you’ll have the presence of mind to ignore it. Completely as an aside, and totally unrelated, on Sunday you will score sexually.

Aquarius, the renovation bug attacks this week, but the time isn’t quite right. Maybe you should just buy one piece of furniture or a tasteful work of art. Whatever you end up doing, try to follow the Feng Shui rules, and don’t operate any nail guns, glue guns, or chainsaws you happen to find lying on the next-door neighbor’s lawn (beneath a sign that says “All Free”) if you have already consumed a bottle of Bacardi. And no, Red Bull will not sober you up; it will just make your vomit more colorful.

Pisces, the moon’s influence is optimal for making life-changing plans. Whether you follow those plans is another story. The stars think you’ll distract yourself from taking any action—perhaps with video games, or maybe the quest to make the perfect Sangria. This latter pursuit is a good one for you, Pisces. You probably have a good collection of cheap but barely drinkable wine bought on a Pisces-type budget. Or you may have vodka instead, in which case your Sangria is actually yukaflux, and that’s the best way to bring summer on.