bacardi 151

ASTROLIQUOR for March 22 to 28, already in progress—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Your booze horoscope is going all to hell, the way I can’t manage to round up a typist, week after week. And here you are, making all sorts of decisions without astrological guidance, which makes me feel like an absolute bastard. Even if you are getting along fine without it (are you? omg, don’t tell me, it got me out of bed today)…here it is:

Aries, do not listen to any Journey songs this week, especially the ballads. They’ll get you down and make you feel lonely, plus the neighbors won’t appreciate the sound of you moaning out the window like a sick Steve Perry. They’ll suspect you’re constipated and peer inside, only to get an eyeful of you lurching around in filthy underwear sporting stains of Kahlua, Bailey’s, Cointreau, and who knows what.

Taurus, you’ll get a letter from the bank this week increasing your credit limit—and you didn’t even have to ask! How lucky is that? Now you can take an online course (what about currency trading?), expand your tequila collection, or visit some betting sites and leverage that illusory new windfall. But don’t compromise your principles! Don’t sell out to anyone! Every shooter you drink this week should have a gummy worm in it.

Gemini, when you receive unexpected praise from someone, you find yourself liking that person a whole lot more than is warranted and, more importantly, letting down your guard. Beware! Find a Scorpio you trust and go for a long walk. Explain everything and then wait for your Scorpio friend to serve you up some harsh truth about those insincere compliments and the douchebag who delivered them so blithely. The truth will hurt, and you’ll want vodka. Mix it with amaretto and Kahlua so you look like a connoisseur, not an alcoholic.

Cancer, you might experience a psychotic break this week. In retrospect you’ll realize it was all your fault (well, you and bourbon). In the aftermath your mind will go off on all sorts of tangents. One particular obsession will be the future (1000+ years); you foresee being able to manipulate lottery numbers and make yourself rich, but only if you can cryogenically freeze your head, which sounds like a chicken-and-egg problem. Spend your money on gin instead.

Leo, all kinds of things happen when you combine Jagermeister with Mountain Dew, but earning more money is not one of them. Take steps to create an income source. The lottery might win you a few bucks, but it won’t supply a comprehensive answer. Nope—you might have to actually work. Start networking; even if it doesn’t make the cash pour in, you’ll meet someone, and by August you’ll have seen their underwear.

As a Virgo you’re good at playing your cards close to your chest. Most of your most weirdo secrets will stay with you until you die, but don’t let secrecy get in the way of relationships. You’ll meet a “friend for life” this week (Leo or Taurus), so try and open up a bit. This will help:

  • 3 oz rum
  • 1 oz sloe gin
  • 1 oz Southern Comfort
  • 1 oz peach schnapps
  • Orange juice to taste (I’m having “none”)

Libra, give your brain a rest this week; it’s getting confused. Try not to multi-task—let’s face it, your resumé may say you can do it but you can’t pee and wipe your nose at the same time without an accident. Plan a holiday (carefully! make a list) or at least stock up on limoncello and vodka and have a mental holiday. Ahhhh!

Mars is exerting some apeshit influence on your chart, Scorpio. Try not to throw a punch at relatives or colleagues this week, and be nice to that friend who needs your advice. It concerns embarrassing personal stuff (the stars say money problems, or maybe something to do with genitals), and if you react kindly, you’ll bank some good karma. In other news, you have an undeterrable stalker (it’s a Cancer—don’t give this person any vodka).

Sagittarius, electronics will give you grief this week. Read the manual(s) before beating the shit out of your computer or toaster oven. Your dishwasher will fail several times to get a dried noodle off one of your pots. The stars have no solution for this, although they recommend Gordon’s gin (for you, not the Jet Dry compartment). Tuesday and Thursday are good for love and nudity.

Somebody’s gotta do it, Capricorn, and this week you are the designated driver. You’ll spend many evenings watching drunken friends get extraordinary amusement out of stupid board games, stupid movies, and yes—barfing in your car. If this sounds thankless, the stars apologize. You don’t have to listen to them; they are just balls of gas. They have no idea what Stoli vomit does to upholstery.

Aquarius, someone who’s gone unnoticed until recently becomes a hot-and-heavy love interest. Be careful! This person is a freak. Don’t mistake eroticism for ice-cold insanity; the stars are worried you could end up getting shivved with a broken bottle. Ease up on the vodka and keep your wits about you.

Pisces, you’re out of work again and you feel sorry for yourself. But your friends are jealous…spring is here and you’re free. Wake up whatever-the-hell-o’clock appeals to you, get the coffee going, and spike it up with Bacardi 151 and Kahlua. Have a few mugs and then phone your old boss.

ASTROLIQUOR for March 1–6—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

Aries, an insurance issue will require your full attention. Make sure you read the small print—preferably before you go on a Yellow Chartreuse bender. In any case, your coverage will probably screw you over, leaving you to wonder why you bothered buying insurance at all. The good news is it doesn’t involve driving and/or your car. Give yourself a pat on the back for confining your drinking to your home and public transit. Take the money you’ve been wasting on premiums and buy a present for a Scorpio. Maybe a bottle of Yellow Chartreuse.

Taurus, you’re brooding over old issues. Colleagues wonder why you haven’t gotten over ancient slights, but Taurus personalities are excellent at balling up those hostile emotions until they explode. Release them before you go critical. Remember: booze will free you of your inhibitions. Use anything…cognac, Cointreau, Yellow Chartreuse… Are you drunk yet? Good. Now go talk to your boss.

You think you know yourself so well, Gemini, but others actually know you better. In fact, you can’t even remember the last five years. You’ve been awash the whole time in Southern Comfort. Little do you know, your consciousness is about to explode, providing new insights between now and May. You’ll also experience some diarrhea.

Cancer, you’ll start a drunken fight at work this week. You can’t help it; your colleagues are idiots who refuse to do their jobs. Privately you’ll feel ashamed for your outburst, but then you’ll gradually start to like your new bad-ass self. You’ll rationalize your nutbag workplace freakouts and bolster them with a flask of gin. Have a cardboard box ready.

Leo, pay more attention to your family. Don’t just listen to them; try to understand what makes them tick. What weird-ass genes influence them? What crazy relatives brought them up? Meanwhile you’ll find yourself in the doghouse with a significant other; it seems your inability to function without a headful of Bacardi 151 is a relationship dealbreaker. Don’t worry, you’ll meet someone new at the liquor store in April.

Virgo, your month is outstripping your paycheque and causing you big financial worries. Consider getting rid of your car. You never drive it anyway because you are always pissed on Malibu. You could buy discount rotting fruit and vegetables to save a few coins, or maybe even give up solid foods altogether. Or you could just wait for a raise. The stars say “maybe.”

Stop mailing your hate letters immediately, Libra. The “send” button is far too tempting for you, and you’re dissing people who are much smarter (and probably more sober) than you. If you, for instance, email the stupidest inbox in the blogosphere, you will get skewered. It’s okay to have an opinion, but try not to formulate it after marinating your neurons in vodka, whisky, gin, and a dash of tabasco sauce. That shit’ll make you mean.

The stars may be messing with you, Scorpio, but they’re suggesting you make an elaborate dinner for friends. They’ll be surprised at what a gourmand you are, and a flirtation may even ensue with a Leo or Pisces. The resultant public display of affection will probably appall your guests and scare them off, but for your superbly stocked bar. White rum, dark rum, and elderflower cordial? You’ve got it going on. And now you’ve got an orgy in your dining room.

Sagittarius, you’re hurting financially. You made some serious dents with your ATM card back in December, and you can’t even remember what you purchased. That’s what happens when you go shopping during a drunken blackout. Who knows what you bought—check and see if there’s a Prada purse under your bed. Better yet, see what’s in your bar. Let’s hope you stocked up on Tia Maria and Amaretto.

You don’t have any spare cash, Capricorn, but who cares? You’re feeling down and your house could use some new furniture. Your partner will be so surprised to see a new living room suite and a zero balance. Smooth over any arguments with this yummy drink:

  • 1 cup vodka
  • 1/2 cup cranberry juice
  • 1/2 cup mango juice
  • 1/2 cup orange juice
  • 1 cup ice cream

Blend it all up with ice…unless you have to sell the blender.

Aquarius, it’s time to take someone to dinner—maybe an old friend, maybe someone you meet in the brandy aisle at the liquor store. You’ll hit it off in a big way and end up naked. The next morning while you’re lounging around in an ill-fitting thong with your new friend, Jehovah’s Witnesses will come to your door. Invite them in. You must have some brandy left, and the conversation will be fun.

Pisces, you have a very deviant sex life, but it’s not satisfying you these days. Could you be looking for true love? The stars have lots of options for you (Capricorn, Pisces, Cancer), but they’re not all into your kinks. They don’t like that bit involving peanut butter and the dog, and they draw the line at letting your relatives watch. Cheer up, you can still pour the Hypnotiq, Malibu, and vodka, and there’ll be no hard feelings.

A toast to Star Trek—happy 46th!

For the 46th anniversary of Star Trek (which we are rabid about at LBHQ) I borrowed my friend Scarybear’s head.

At least he’s not wearing a red shirt. He looks like he could use some Romulan Ale. (Couldn’t we all?) Not that Everclear, Bacardi 151, and Blue Curacao an ale make, but we should drink it anyway.

Failing that, we should just buy some crappy blue beer. Reviewers say it tastes like ass, but just for today…

This isn’t the first time I’ve borrowed Scary’s head. I know he won’t mind seeing this again: