vodka

ASTROLIQUOR for October 26 to November 1—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

Aries, you’re back to your pissed-off self, and some poor sap is irritating you. He/she isn’t even doing anything! It’s all you, Aries, so get your anger management on. Mellow out with some apple brandy or rum. Call a Capricorn friend to chat (don’t yell). Buy a small present for someone. Whatever you do, stay away from rowdy bars; you don’t need any more stitches.

Taurus, you’ll have a three-way with a married couple on your next holiday, a moral lapse preceded this week by an unfortunate mixture of Jagermeister, Monster, Sunny D, and root beer. This combo makes you lose your mind and throw away all your discretion, paving the way for a holiday orgy so publicly lewd that you’ll never live it down. Nice going.

You’re preoccupied with mating this week, Gemini, and love is optional. Another Gemini grabs your attention, but you don’t have much luck with same-sign hook-ups. This one’s no exception; it will fizzle quickly, leaving your mind abuzz with prickly resentment. Nothing helps this problem more than Wild Turkey with Drambuie.

Cancer, your calendar feels packed, but is your problem a full dance card or just disorganization? If you take a look you’ll realize you’re not planning properly. You’re saying yes to every trivial thing that comes up and letting people waste your time. No wonder you have no time to get loaded. Take time out for a luxury Champagne this week and tell everyone to get stuffed.

Leo, the stars are vaguely predicting an enriching experience for you…say, sometime in the next three weeks. Expect to become more attuned—not just to your five senses but to the paranormal. The portal to enlightenment is, perhaps predictably, Blue Curacao with Malibu. Although you’ll perceive all kinds of crazy shit this week, your mental state is surprisingly healthy.

Melon liqueur, white creme de cacao, and milk. Your mixology continues to reveal a slight mental imbalance, Virgo. Consider hitting the psychiatrist’s couch, taking up yoga, or getting on a plane to Tibet. Or maybe just go and observe the People of Walmart. They won’t harm you and they’ll probably go out for drinks with you. Open your mind.

Libra, the stars like you this week. You have a lot of influence over people, which increases your social sphere. Ties with your partner are strong, with Thursday your best day for communication. Your power week takes you to the heights and then drops you like a rock. You descend into a binge featuring red wine and vodka—combined. Yikes, the stars are mean.

Someone is pressuring you, Scorpio, but you don’t have to give in. Did you give in when they told you not to make a big vat of white rum, tequila, peach schnapps, triple sec, and Bacardi 151? Did you give in when they said you couldn’t have that big vat in the office lunchroom? Did you give in when they said you couldn’t sleep beside the photocopier? Hell, no.

Sagittarius, your work is in the doldrums and you don’t know why. (It’s boring.) Your brain checks out of meetings, pondering cocktail onions and the comparative merits of sweet and dry vermouth. Perhaps you should talk to your colleagues. They might be able to make your days more interesting, or at least recommend a good gin for your flask.

You’ll have a drastic change of opinion about a work project, Capricorn. You’re horrified at how sluggish your pace has been, the slackers who surround you, and the dried vomit in your third drawer down. This is what happens when you do the unthinkable, Capricorn. You’ve dried out, and the world looks ugly. But at least you can be the DD for your friends.

Aquarius, there’s no use freaking out at coworkers, even if one of them is trying to destroy you. Half the time they’re just as messed up as you—riding the highs and lows between gin-and-tonics and Red Bull. Level out your brain chemicals with some solid food. If you hold it together for the work week, Sunday won’t let you down. But keep your eyes trained at work for that backstabber!

Pisces, a not-unexpected meeting occurs this week. It’s one of those dreadful interventions in which your most beloved relatives and friends tell you what a douche you are. They’ve made a big gathering of it; they’ve got hors d’oeuvres and somebody’s carved pineapples and bananas into special shapes. Your head hurts from this outpouring of love and self-righteousness. But it’s better than that time you spent a night in jail after pissing against a wall.

ASTROLIQUOR for October 19-25—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

Aries, friends seek you out this week for physical and mental help. Be careful not to overtax yourself; your reserves of both are limited. Who will help you when you’ve strained every muscle and lost your mind? Maybe a Libra, but then again maybe not. Most likely you’ll dive into the gin, civilizing your bender with Cointreau, Campari, and bitters over ice. Your stomach and bowels will not like this!

Taurus, you are gradually establishing your goals and learning about your own nature. Weeks of introspection and self-analysis are teaching you who you really are. We astrologers like to call this “narcissism.” Enjoy it until December, when work issues pull you out of your navel-gazing. Do not buy a new cellphone! You need that money for vodka, peach schnapps, melon liqueur, and raspberry liqueur.

You’re talented at dodging unpleasant tasks, Gemini, but this week the stars effectively clamp a toilet brush in your hand. Get to work so you can be done quickly. Mindless jobs are a great opportunity to think, and afterwards you can have a cookie (or liquid facsimile):

  • 2 oz Bailey’s
  • 2 oz butterscotch liqueur
  • 2 oz cinnamon schnapps

Cancer, your natural cheer is misconstrued by a horny friend. As fun as this sounds, it will not end well if you pursue it. By December your horny friend will show actual horns, and you may need a restraining order. OMG! Flirting is so much fun; how can you restrain yourself? You’re just too charming, and you have the self-control of a chimp. You need other measures. Start by eschewing showers for a while. Load up on amaretto and peach schnapps. Lose your toothbrush indefinitely. That should chase away your friend before any of this shit goes down.

Leo, you face an age-old conflict between mind and emotions that will carry on through January. You’ll become tiresome telling  friends about this amazing hemispheric brain schism that prevents you from exercising common sense and allows you to behave like a douchebag. You waste piles of money on therapy. Does your therapist know your brain cells are marinating in triple sec? You should mention it.

The stars call for a charmed week, Virgo. Big problems will seem negligible, and small problems will vanish. You’ll sort out past issues and ponder intellectual matters. So confident are you that you become overly acquisitive, straining your bank account. Do you need a new leather couch? You could just purchase a bottle of Stolichnaya and still get that rush from hitting the “buy” button.

Libra, you feel shy this week, which makes you seem sensitive. This attracts people to you, which makes you more self-conscious. Your gut instinct is to hide at home drinking creme de menthe, but it’s a mistake—your carpet can’t take any more green barf. Go out with some friends. They like you, they really like you.

Your feelings fluctuate this week, Scorpio, and friends wonder about you. A paranoid Scorpio with a Cointreau-pickled brain is not a thing to mess with. Someone tells you a secret. You start to think they think you’ll divulge it. You think they’re going to hurt you for divulging it. Freaky stuff, Scorpio, get a grip! Your friend knows you won’t tell. That’s why he/she told you.

Sagittarius, your thoughts continue in a futuristic vein, with November looking promising. Try to interview for jobs on either the 10th or the 25th so you can be sure to nail something. In between you can break out the Grey Goose all day long. Your liver is surprisingly robust this month, so make it work!

Your sensitivity skyrockets this week, Capricorn. Who’s talking about you?! Who’s talking about your partner?! Do they like you? Do they hate you? Your brain overloads with paranoid thoughts. This sort of synaptic noise is the bane of our society. Lashings of whiskey with Grand Marnier should take care of it.

Aquarius, you have a power week ahead as long as you involve other people and resist being a cowboy. Privately and professionally you’ll make gains, although you’ll forget to hit the gym. The stars encourage you to frequent bars; you’ll meet nice people who’ll buy rounds of lemony cocktails.

Pisces, you have a brawl with a colleague this week over something you said. Tactfully, he/she tries to clarify, and you throw a punch! Wow, Pisces, way to get a holiday! You’ll have a lovely week at home in bed, alternating between strawberry cream liqueur and sambuca, and drinking wine when you need to rehydrate. This is what you’ve always wanted.

How Smirnoff keeps us young

Our bank is right beside the liquor store.

For some people this would be a problem, and for us it is. How does one deposit a cheque and then walk or drive past the liquor store without stopping in?

Today there was the added draw of a Smirnoff sampler table featuring Fluffed Marshmallow and Whipped Cream vodka.

OMG, I have always wanted to try these silk purses made from the jaggedly nasty sow’s ear that is Smirnoff.

Don’t get me wrong—I totally love Smirnoff, my fellow inebriates. If my parents ever kick me out and I have to live on the curb beside the liquor store (beside the bank), Smirnoff will be my brand. With its compulsive diversity and unfailing appeal to sophomoric binge drinkers, Smirnoff enraptures attention-deficient vodka lovers everywhere. Why have a different Smirnoff every day of the week when you can have a different one every day of the month?

So, needless to say, I was totally pissed that my parents’ banking errand turned into a bear-less vodka-tasting adventure at the Smirnoff counter. Even when they described the shot measure (or “dosage,” as my mother called it) as minuscule, I felt totally burned. You see, we’re never going to buy these products for our home, so unless I get invited on some future liquor-store foray, I’ll never taste them, people.

But wait, let’s back up. This wasn’t my dad’s first tasting of Fluffed Marshmallow and Whipped Cream Smirnoff. He had it last night when he was in the store and came back raving about it. He totally loved it. He said if it had been available in mickey size he would have bought it. But today he went there with my killjoy mother, who compared both varieties unfavorably with liquid antibiotics and poisoned his mind against frivolous vodka flavors.

I had no idea my mother could be influential at all. I mean, my dad bought our last car without consulting her. How could she possibly have changed his mind about Whipped Cream and Fluffed Marshmallow Smirnoff?

Last night my dad said these products were creamy and smooth—delicious enough to be enjoyed straight-up and (particularly the Whipped Cream) perfect ingredients for a Creamsicle cocktail.

Today he said they were TOO SWEET.

“What the hell?” I asked, and he said:

“Last night my tastebuds were in a different place.”

Like, not with my mum! His tastebuds were in a good place! In a place his tastebuds should have stayed until he felt ready to complete a transaction and bring some silly-flavored vodka home. OMG!!

Here Smirnoff does this awesome thing: It takes its crappy bottom-shelf base product and adds exciting, ridiculous flavors to it then markets the shit out of it, effectively transforming caterpillars into bright, beautiful butterflies in Blueberry, Cherry, Citrus, Coconut, Cranberry, Dark Roasted Espresso, Grape, Green Apple, Iced Cake, Kissed Caramel, Lime, Mango, Melon, Orange, Passionfruit, Peach, Pear, Pineapple, Pomegranate, Raspberry, Spiced Root Beer, Strawberry, Vanilla, Watermelon, Fluffed Marshmallow and Whipped Cream…and using vibrant packaging and savvy marketing, Smirnoff persuades a guy like my dad that its product is actually yummy, so much so that he’s considering going back to buy a bottle…and…and.

My mum comes along and wrecks it.

I was bereft, so I got one of my hobo friends to take me to the store for a sample. (This might have been a hallucination, but I still came away with tasting notes.)

“Confectionary” flavors raise obvious concerns because of their attractiveness to underage drinkers and bears. I bet five- and six-year-old V and P could put away a shot each without complaint—that’s how sweet the vodkas are.

Whipped Cream Smirnoff is much more redolent of Cool Whip than whipping cream; its production couldn’t possibly have taxed any cows. It’s is suitable for shots, special coffee, and cake flavoring, as, despite being an indubitably chemical creation, it suggests food.

Whipped Marshmallow Smirnoff isn’t much different although it has a bit more complexity. The marshmallows are s’more-like: toasty campfire marshmallows rather than plain marshmallow fluff or Peeps. Either way, this product suggests childhood. On a 0-10 sweetness scale it gets an 11.

Despite the sense of being trivialized as a consumer and manipulated with the illusion of product diversity, I love knowing the Smirnoff people are always thinking creatively. But, just like in V’s favorite Robert Munsch story about the 500 marker colors, one day they will run out of ideas and resort to a vodka flavor like “cow plop.” Until then, there’s definitely a place in everyone’s liquor cabinet for stupid vodka flavors like Whipped Cream and Fluffed Marshmallow.