booze

ASTROLIQUOR for August 31 to September 6—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

Although bar fights are nothing strange to you, Aries, you can expect a rough one this week. You’ll beat the crap out a Libra, which will give you a sense of satisfaction, even though you’ll eventually have to apologize (possibly through some sort of restorative justice mechanism prescribed by court…OMG, what the hell are the stars saying you’re going to do to this Libra??) Is this what comes of combining tequila, rum, vodka, triple sec, gin, and Razzmatazz? Holy shit, Aries, I don’t like your stars this week.

Taurus, watch your diet this week. If you cut back on solid foods you can accommodate a big vat of eggnog. In fact, you should have an eggnog party on Sunday. You’ll need a bunch of egg yolks plus whole cream, some other stuff, and two cups of rum. Mmmmmm…totally worth skipping solids. In fact, if you really want to cut calories, leave out all the ingredients except the rum. That’s the best kind of eggnog.

You often listen without hearing, Gemini, but if you pay close attention to the stars, they’re telling you to layer equal parts of Kahlua, Bailey’s, and creme de cacao in a shot glass (or a tumbler), top with a splash of vodka, and ahhhhhhh! It won’t improve your listening abilities, especially if you opt for the tumbler, but it sure says “early weekend.”

Your persuasive powers peak this week, Cancer. Try not to be evil; you are very influential right now. 😉 Weirdly enough, the stars don’t recommend alcohol (because they’re worried about you being evil), but I trust you. So go ahead and mix up some tequila with milk. Stir (don’t shake) and slam it back, then have an orange wedge. This is all the evil you need.

Leo, someone’s crushing on you but you’re distracted and you totally miss it. It’s uncharacteristic for you to lose out on a mating opportunity, but if you pay attention, you’ll finally notice this interested Gemini. Maybe if you just lay off the cherry vodka for a while, you’ll notice all kinds of people and things. You might even remember to brush your teeth.

Try to avoid snap judgments about people this week, Virgo. Outward appearances aren’t trustworthy, and you’ve been fine-tuning your intuition for a while now, so dig a little deeper when you’re assessing someone. Meanwhile, others are assessing you. You’ve been going through a lot of mental changes lately, both positive (shedding cares about material wealth) and negative (waking up with the Jagermeister shakes). The stars suggest cutting the Jager with Red Bull (dumbass stars).

Libra, you’re feeling the weight of obligations, and noticing when others don’t step up to fulfill theirs. You have to know this makes you annoying and, depending how much you broadcast your resentment, maybe even a douche. Just don’t let the half-hearted performance of other people put you off achieving your own goals. If you must, screw other people and have a bottle of Tanqueray to yourself.

Determination is your key word this week, Scorpio. Whatever you set out to do, you can do it—even things you normally suck at. Now’s the time to ask for a raise or go after a better job. You are more powerful than Xenu this week (or at least Tom Cruise). Don’t let this special astrological power pass! Go after your heart’s desire, then celebrate with some Chambord.

Sagittarius, the hard times are ending, but not just yet. You can just see the clearing up ahead, so hang tough. Like a rotten parting shot, this bleak time will end with something in your house breaking. Don’t worry, it’s not critical; you can live without a vacuum cleaner or a dishwasher. So long as it’s not a bar shelf! OMG, it would suck if all your bottles crashed and broke. There you’d be in a puddle of glass shards and Southern Comfort, slurping your precious booze out of the carpet. (Make sure your bar shelf is secure!)

You go berserk for some art this week, Capricorn. Whatever it is—sculpture, sketch, painting—you must have it immediately. But be careful with your money; something in house house will break this week, and if you’ve spent all your funds on art, how will you pay for the repair? (And how will you maintain your tequila levels?)

Aquarius, you’ll meet a fascinating, sexually charged stranger this week, and after a couple of bourbons he/she will no longer be a stranger. In fact, you’ll discover all sort of mutual friends and interests. The more intimate you become, the more similarities will emerge. And just wait till you see each other’s photo albums. OMG! You’re related.

Pisces, you’ve got nothing going on this week. Nada. The stars used it all up on the other signs. This pisses you off, because you hoped for some action—an affair maybe, or a flirtation. Nope. Nothing. Just you by yourself. Lots of people like being by themselves. They pick up a book or watch a movie or call some friends. But you don’t feel like it, and the stars are laying on a walloping dose of self-pity. So you alternate shots of lime Bacardi with belts of Corona. (Sounds okay to me.)

CANADIAN CLUB—an appropriate response to a day at the PNE

We bears had the house to ourselves all day yesterday. Meanwhile my parents were observing carny people—not just the blue-shirted PNE ride operators, but other, more interesting people, squeezed into all sorts of unfortunate outfits, bouncing along feeding themselves corndogs. My mum saw a woman with four nipples, arbitrarily arranged beneath a stretched-to-the-limit-of-physics tanktop. And when she took the girls to the bathroom she met a new mother dressed as a stripper.

Needless to say, they had an awesome day, although they spent a great deal of our alcohol funds on PNE-priced items such as, well water, at $3.50 for a half-litre bottle.

Now who needs water?

The only time we really need water is when we buy CANADIAN CLUB instead of CROWN ROYAL. Which we did out of curiosity today. We had just chastised my dad for buying—at the PNE—a pan-flutist’s CD for $20, which was ultimately my mother’s fault because she spent 15 minutes coursing through the PNE prize home while my dad waited on a bench being wooed by the pan flute. My mother heard it too; he was playing “Unchained Melody,” and the teenagers behind her were grasping for the artist. “The Righteous Brothers,” my mother said, which they either ignored or didn’t recognize, then the girl told her boyfriend she was sure she’d heard her mom playing that song, which netted her some noises of disgust. And she added, she would never have a white kitchen, although the wine rack beneath the deer’s head was pretty dope.

My mother didn’t mean to buy CANADIAN CLUB today, but the liquor store is right beside the bank, where she had to go to spread a small cheque between two separate accounts to cover such liquor-unfriendly things as her gym membership and the car insurance. She was trying to be nice by buying a cheap mickey of rye so she could sip something guilt-free instead of getting into the more expensive CAOL ILA 12 my dad brought back from Vegas. She was trying to do a good thing, but you have to admit she just ended up looking like an alcoholic, especially when the mickey fell out of her gym bag at Steve Nash Fitness World.

I’ve come to the defense of CANADIAN CLUB many times, especially since it’s typically pitted against fit-for-royalty CROWN ROYAL, which is a nice, smooth rye. If you order a rye ‘n’ seven at the bar, the bartender will usually try to pass off CANADIAN CLUB on you for economy’s sake. And with 7-Up or gingerale, this is perfectly reasonable. CANADIAN CLUB is plenty rough compared to CROWN ROYAL, but who cares when you’re mixing it with pop? Neat, or even over ice, it’s a different story.

When I drink CANADIAN CLUB, I feel like a ruminant. I can taste grass and hay, along with some jagged alcohol, which I like. What it lacks in nuance it makes up for in straightforwardness. With a sweet, fizzy mixer, I actually prefer the rougher-edged CANADIAN CLUB; it asserts itself better, and the pop hides its earthier tones.

If I were a cow, like the one the kids observed giving birth at the PNE, I’d wonder what the hell humans were doing with grains, making things like CANADIAN CLUB. I’d also wonder why there was a set of crowded bleachers right beside me while a farmer stuck his whole arm inside me, tied a rope around my calf’s leg and yanked it out. (Miss P and Miss V did enjoy the whole business, but they thought it took too long.)

There are a lot of weird things at the PNE. It makes Walmart seem downright sedate, and apparently it takes a lot of energy to spend 10 hours there with a four-year-old and a six-year-old. I’m delighted it drove my mother to drink, even if it was just CANADIAN CLUB.

ASTROLIQUOR for August 24-30—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

Aries, you have so much confidence in your own mojo that you often wait for others to email or phone you. Take the initiative this week and call someone from so long ago that they’ve forgotten your typical bar behavior. Shut off your rational side and let your emotions guide you. Okay, so that’s hard when your emotions are usually angry…but you can loosen up with some Captain Morgan and Mountain Dew.

Taurus, you’ll hear from an old friend, but listen carefully and be skeptical. OMG, what do they want? Do they want money? Free drinks? Will they take you away from friends, family and work? Will the two of you go on a bender involving peach schnapps, white sambuca, and Midori melon? (In which case it’s okay, and the best day for it is Sunday.)

You didn’t intend to redecorate your house, Gemini, but that’s what you get when you mix up a tub of vodka and triple sec. Finish the job this week; your half-done alterations are unseemly, especially if you’ve accidentally taken out a wall. Whatever you’ve done, it’s enabled your neighbors to see you in a thong, and they don’t like it.

Now is the time to act, Cancer. Wavering hasn’t done you a lick of good, and the stars are willing to help you make good decisions this week. The key is to have a plan. You can’t just get pissed on tequila and then bring home a truckload of random electronics. Get pissed on Patron and Cointreau and lock yourself in the house.

Leo, whatever your ride is—bike, car, scooter—it’s going to need repairs this week. Be preemptive so the fix is small and inexpensive. Use the downtime to get drunk, staying out of traffic of course. Maybe you could invite a friend over and make some vodka martinis in your bathtub. Sunday’s best for me; just email me your address.

Get out of town for a few days, Virgo. You have some friends who are pissed off at you and, even though you don’t have any money, anyone who’d think of combining Bacardi 151, vanilla liqueur, and Crown Royal with Pepsi is creative enough to get by. Have fun knowing your absence will make your friends’ hearts fonder, or at least keep them from kicking your ass.

Libra, the stars are giving you a hall pass this week. Take it easy; break your more stressful engagements and plan some mellow activities instead. If you can raft along Friday through Monday on a vodka-drambuie river, you’ll get your groove back, and you might even meet a horny new friend.

Everything seems uphill this week, Scorpio. But compare now with five years ago. Chances are you didn’t have enough martinis then, but I bet you’re drinking more of them now. The great thing about aging is that we tend to drink more, and we have fewer friends to share the drinks with, which saves us money. The stars say the martinis should be vodka, but they are not always right.

Sagittarius, you’re surrounded by crud and odor, up to your neck in foul sweatsocks and filthy underwear. Rediscover that particular appliance that spins around (shudder). Put some clothes in it—especially the ones encrusted with Sheep-Dip-and-marsala vomit. Swish a cloth around; feed the toilet some Vim. You’ll feel better about your house and about yourself. Then you can begin afresh with another binge (the best day’s Sunday). Oh yeah, and no lottery tickets for you; spend the cash on booze.

The lottery’s a no-go for you, Capricorn. In fact, the week is generally unlucky, and you just don’t have the money to go nuts like you used to. Stay away from ostentatious types who rub their wealth in your face. Don’t let people pressure you to compete—at least not until October when your finances pick up slightly. For now you’re on a beer budget. Dig into your liquor cabinet and see if you can find some languishing rum. Toss it into the beer along with some gummy bears. That should put things in budgetary perspective.

Aquarius, take a fresh look at your world. Try to imagine everything is new—your job, your home, your relationships—see how much you really have. Life is good, but it’s not always easy to perceive. A simple mood adjustment might help. Good catalysts include Bailey’s Irish Cream and Southern Comfort.

Pisces, go through that cardboard box from the office. It sucks that you got fired again, but think about all the free time ahead. Especially if you’re in the northern hemisphere, this is an awesome time to get cut loose, and you can probably still afford a tequila bottle or two. Have a kick-ass party to celebrate your freedom. The stars say Sunday’s the best day, and it’s all the better because you don’t need to get up on Monday any more.