ASTROLIQUOR for Feb. 15–21—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

Gear up for some excitement, Aries—maybe a housewrecker party or a night of bar-hopping. You’ll be out all night and end up conflating breakfast with, well, more drinking. Try blending up a cup of banana schnapps with some bananas for a wholesome breakfast. While you’re replenishing your potassium and blood-alcohol percentage, why not email that Leo you had the one-night stand with last year? He/she will be delighted to hear from you, especially in your condition.

Taurus, you’re due for an ignominious week. Expect to break a lot of bottles…a lot. Be stoic when someone attacks you for your recklessness; the criticism is less about you than it is about this douchebag’s own unhappy life. If he/she pounded the orange vodka and Cointreau the way you do, life would be sunny. Someone will make you an appealing offer this week. Lay off the vodka briefly so you can consider it—it might be too good to be true.

A friend needs you again, Gemini, but you just don’t feel like helping. Ordinarily you’re good at navigating such situations, but this particular friend gets you with a brainful of Malibu and, well, you just don’t care. The person seeking help feels very bonded to you emotionally and will be offended when you ignore the pleas, so you may have to employ some diplomacy later. That or just pour yourself some more Malibu.

The pressure continues, Cancer. Not only are your finances still #&*%^#—so are your mental faculties. Just when you think you understand a difficult concept, it slips away. Losing one’s mental capacity is one of the most frightening prospects anyone can face, especially if it wasn’t any hell to begin with. Consider visiting the doctor or, if you just don’t want to know for sure, maintain a constant buzz. How about gin, Malibu, and sour apple liqueur? That should keep prevent your remaining neurons from worrying.

Leo, you’ll get a very lucrative monetary offer, job offer, or maybe just a sales flyer from your favorite store. Listen to your emotions as you make your decision. Whether you end up taking the deal, refusing it, or just blowing all your cash at Walmart, make sure you have enough left to stock your bar. You’re running out of vanilla liqueur and probably a whack of other important liquor-store items. The stars want you to mix the liqueur with orange juice and milk. I say just drink it straight.

What happens when you combine Corona with tequila and grenadine at work, Virgo? You may just end up getting a raise, as your brash, uninhibited self takes over from your mousy daytime personality and wows your boss. Especially if your boss is an Aquarius, the stars say do it. If that doesn’t work out (and let’s face it, some people consider tequila and work incompatible),  you’ll probably end up winning some lottery cash. But don’t spend it all! The stars are malevolent about your finances in April.

Libra, a natural disaster has you in its sights. Water may well be involved, so take whatever precautions occur to you. Of course, the stars may be exaggerating—you might just have your toilet back up after your five-year-old feeds an entire roll of toilet paper to it. Either way, you’ll need to stock up on liquor. Put that crazy kid to bed and mix this number:

  • 4 parts Hypnotiq
  • 4 parts gin
  • 2 parts tequila
  • 8 parts pineapple juice (optional)
  • 8 parts Sprite (optional)

Make sure you’re well prepared for any conferences you attend this week, Scorpio. In the past you’ve arrived with a flask of gin and Dr. Pepper and only barely managed to comport yourself. Afterwards when the meeting minutes got circulated, the whole thing seemed new to you—especially the bits with that clown who made all the asinine comments. The stars don’t insist on 100% sobriety for work; but they don’t want you to be totally embarrassed either, so find the right balance.

Sagittarius, your computer will act up this week; you’ll suspect a virus, and you’re actually due for one considering all the porn you’ve been downloading, but the real problem is your computer’s age. You don’t have the greatest head for troubleshooting, especially while lit up with vodka and vermouth. Try to resist the urge to throw the whole rig out the window, cinematic as that might be. Don’t shoot at it either. Just get some fresh air and/or more vodka.

No nitpicking for you this week, Capricorn. Examining things minutely only leads to misery and subverts decision making. Your intuition is a better guide than intense analysis. If you can’t inhibit your inner critic, dose it with tequila and peach schnapps. On another note entirely, try not to be jealous. Again, tequila will help.

Aquarius, you border on stalking when it comes to a certain Leo. Other people are noticing and becoming increasingly uncomfortable with your inappropriate behavior. What you need is a diversion. Find a big jug and fill it with 3 parts Malibu, 6 parts cognac, and 6 parts Jim Beam. This is a great way to forget about Leos, and anything else for that matter.

Pisces, a friend from old times will email this week with shocking news. Refrain from responding right away; you’re far too pickled in banana rum to be judging your friend. If you can’t resist hitting the “send” button, be prepared to fix a damaged relationship or even retract what you’ve said. All of which is typical for Pisces any week, regardless of celestial influence. But don’t say the stars didn’t try to help!

V is for Valentine

My Fellow Inebriates,

Five-year-old Miss V was so delighted to receive a heart-shaped Kinder Egg box this morning that she threw a fit about not being allowed to eat the chocolate before school. Mum figured V’s class had a sugar frenzy planned in lieu of lunch and was therefore disinclined to deposit V at kindergarten prematurely overloaded with sugar. The kid was already up until 9:30 last night (“I can’t sleep, I tried for a whole minute”) and was already exhibiting hair-trigger temper.

This is exactly the type of unreasonably controlling parental crap Mum pulls on me. When I asked whether we could make raspberry martinis this morning, she didn’t even answer.

mwd105935_fall10_cocktailswithkiss_21013_xl

It had taken me considerable courage to visit Martha Stewart’s website for this recipe, she being the second most terrifying entity I know.

Fluffy still wins.

Fluffy still wins.

Stealing onto her webpage is equivalent to nudging open the door of a haunted house. What a freaky ice queen Martha is, and my mum should realize it—if Martha ever saw Mum attempting to cook lemon bars she’d probably put a pickaxe in her head.

What is society’s problem with booze for breakfast? Is it related to Mum’s problem with Kinder Eggs before 9 a.m.? Why has Mum never, for example, popped the cork on some Chardonnay before walking the kids down the hill to school? What would happen?

“Dude,” she says. “Get some brain cells.”

Just for that, V and I are dedicating a special Valentine to our mother. (This photo has cracked V up since she was four; she requests it often.)

fail valentine 4

We don’t really mean it. At least I don’t.

V…?

PHILLIPS SLIPSTREAM CREAM ALE—by the hundreds, please

My Fellow Inebriates,

Who knows whether all elementary schools celebrate “100 Day,” but it’s a huge deal here. V’s class is an all-out party with cupcakes, party hats, and prizes. Meanwhile, P and her classmates are dressing up as decagenarians and going apeshit with cupcakes, etc. With all this revelry, you may wonder if they do any work in kindergarten and/or grade 2.

They do. The grade twos had a math test, while kindergartner V was tasked with identifying 100 things she would like…

V loves marshmallows...

V loves marshmallows…

And 100 things she would not like…

But not, er...poo

But not, it seems, poo

Encouragingly, V’s teacher hasn’t called our parents in for a meeting to discuss why V was the only kid to identify excrement as something she wouldn’t like in quantities of 100. No doubt other kids chose items like broccoli and tuna casserole, but V marches to a different drummer.

So kudos go to P for declaring her math test “the best part of her day” (sarcasm?) and to V for being an original. She steals my heart the most when she says, “Do you want a beer, LB?” Then her eyes go zanily wide and she says, “HAVE A BEER!”

phillips slipstream creamaleA good idea, and continuing through the Phillips sampler pack, we next hit SLIPSTREAM CREAM ALE. Red-amber with a thick off-white foam that leaves a ring of lace around the glass, it exudes the “house aroma” we’ve been experiencing as we go through the pack—nothing offensive, just something unplaceable that ties all four Phillips offerings together. The overall scent is malty-nutty and a tad metallic, but otherwise not too differentiated from your typical cream ale—and yet, there is that Phillips redolence…

On the palate you get malt up front with some caramel and woodsy-fruity notes playing backup. The metallic quality amplifies on the tastebuds, but not obnoxiously. This is a decent beer, but with the sort of complexity that messes with your head; you wonder if that flavor is an exotic hop combination or…metal?

One thing Phillips gets right on the money is the mouthfeel. SLIPSTREAM CREAM ALE is creamy and smooth with a luxurious finish I wouldn’t have expected for all its punchy carbonation. It puts me in mind of an old-fashioned bar with peanut shells on the floor, and only an idiot bear would have a problem with that.

Of the four in the sampler pack, SLIPSTREAM CREAM ALE was close to being my favorite. That dubious honor goes, surprisingly, to ANALOGUE 78, the lightest of the bunch (although all four clocked in at 5% ABV).

I’d like a hundred bottles of SLIPSTREAM CREAM ALE. Or a hundred cases. Just not a hundred poos.