beer

ASTROLIQUOR for January 25-31

My  Fellow Inebriates,

Once again, because my typist is fucking me over of a curious confluence of star clusters, nebulae, and other drivel, you get an abbreviated reading consolidating the star signs and giving you no proper guidance for the week ahead (or at least five days of it, because this horoscope is late).

Wow! You’re thinking: That’s awesome. LB’s readings are usually so thorough and spot-on that they freak me out. I’d much rather have this vague analysis of ALL SIGNS TOGETHER so I don’t have to hide this week or invest all my money in some email-based Ugandan network-marketing scheme and/or artisanal gin collection.

All you really need to know this week, MFI, is that Mars, that shit-disturbing, bar-fighting planet, is in several aspects with our planet. I don’t know what the hell that means therefore urge you to stay away from knives, guns, tools, Home Depot, and any Martha Stewart–inspired crafts involving hot glue. You don’t want those kinds of weapons on you this week, because Mars is all about fucking your shit up. This is an excellent week to stay AWAY from bars lest you stumble into a fight. I know, I know…that seems counterintuitive, but think about it, MFI: you can buy at least three times the alcohol at the liquor store that you could in a bar. Here’s what to shop for:

Aries:

Grey Goose and Alize Bleu liqueur. Maybe some cranberry juice to go with it, but only if you have a urinary tract infection.

Taurus:

Bacardi Big Apple and butterscotch schnapps. Whatever you do, don’t dissolve a bag of gummy bears in the rum. (Why would you?)

Gemini:

If you’re going to stay home, take the time to make something interesting. Vodka with fresh lemon, freshly ground pepper, olives, and soda.

Cancer:

Stock up on obscure liqueurs with all that cash you save by not going to the bar. Do you have Midori Melon and Leblon Cachaca? No?? However do you drink gingerale without those things?

Leo:

Of all the signs you will have the biggest urge to go to the bar and punch someone. Make yourself a silly drink instead: Malibu, Stoli, and Midori Melon with whipped cream in a hollowed-out pineapple. Will concocting that increase or decrease your frustration?

Virgo:

You are at moderate risk for scurvy. Solution: orange vodka with orange juice and soda. Or just orange vodka.

Libra:

Here’s a weird one for you. Brandy (carefully) blended up with grapefruit juice, honey, and an egg. Sounds like a damn fine breakfast.

Scorpio:

Tequila is still working for you, Scorpio. This time mix it with Kahlua and add enough half-and-half to turn it sort of a Scarybear hue.

Sagittarius:

Spiced rum, Blue Curacao, and Squirt. No worries.

Capricorn:

I know I said no tools but you need the blender…so be very careful. Vodka, Blue Curacao, raspberry schnapps, melon liqueur, and margarita mix. DON’T STICK YOUR HAND IN WHILE IT’S RUNNING! THAT’S THE PLANET MARS TRYING TO GET YOU TO DO THAT. DON’T LET THE PLANET MARS MESS WITH YOU!

Aquarius:

Chill out with some Cachaca. You don’t even need to combine it with anything.

Pisces:

My neighbors still have a pumpkin sitting on their porch. Do you have neighbors like that? Take the pumpkin, hollow it out, and put some rum, gingerale, and apple cider in it. Party for one (until the cops come).

You had me at “Boozecycle”

My Fellow Inebriates,

El Pedalero had me at the word “Boozecycle” with this fantastic article about the place (there is a place) for alcohol in adventure cycling.  Check it out…amazing photographs, and the “most extensive Latin American beer label collection yet displayed online.”

Latin American beer labels

Click it! Click it! There are so many more, my fellow inebriates.

LAGUNITAS LITTLE SUMPIN’ WILD ALE—Bend over

My Fellow Inebriates,

As annoyed I am that no drinking is occurring at LBHQ these days, Scarybear is even madder. Not that he gives a rat’s ass whether we have any beer in the house. His big gripe is the lack of cake at (or since) my mum’s birthday last week. Nobody even thought of cake; that’s how busy they are. And Scary lives for cake.

He also lives for TV, and yesterday my dad decided to put our plasma out to pasture. As he took it off the bracket, Scary’s funk became even more funereal than it had been for Glen Bear (whom V says “might be in the stuffie box” at kindergarten—but will she ever remember to check?). And we know who broke the TV.

"You've just crossed over into the Fluffy Zone."

“You’ve just crossed over into the Fluffy Zone.”

This is what Sylvia Browne says about the whole thing.

Sylvia Browne auto reply

OMG, Sylvia Browne called me a “customer.” Sylvia Browne won’t solve the Fluffy problem unless we send her some cash.

Sylvia Browne pic

But Sylvia Browne predicted that Mitt Romney would win the 2012 US election. Why would I trust her to tell me why/how Fluffy broke the dishwasher, clogged the toilet, made the air too cold at LBHQ, possibly disposed of Glen Bear (unless Carnivorous Duck ate him), and zapped Scary’s beloved plasma TV with his mind??

57912I wouldn’t even trust Sylvia Browne to review a bottle of LAGUNITAS LITTLE SUMPIN’ WILD ALE. She’d never, even on her wildest predictive run, guess that it weighs in at 72.5 IBU and 8.8% alcohol. This shit is hoppy with a capital H. If you like beers that beat you up, LITTLE SUMPIN’ WILD is for you. But Sylvia Browne would never know that, because she probably never even predicted the Twinkie’s demise.

Incidentally, we have Twinkies up here in Canada. They are on the shelves at Walmart the way they always have been, with their zillion ingredients and infinitesimal vitamin profile. They do not seem to be an obsession here, unlike the apostrophe-less Tim Hortons coffee, which is crappier than all the Twinkies, Ding Dongs, and Cupcakes the Hostess factory can spew out on its very worst day.

But why would you have a weak, acidic Timmy coffee when you can have a hop-thrashingly strong ale from Lagunitas Brewing Co.? It pours a golden hue with a coarse, clingy head. From the get-go it assaults you with citrusey, piney, earwaxy hops and a honey-nut pulse behind. Those fumes don’t lie, my fellow inebriates, LITTLE SUMPIN’ WILD packs a wallop. You get spice, pine, grapefruit, and biscuit in gratuitous lashings. Bend over as it kicks your ass; it is a surly item with a crisp yet creamy mouthfeel and plenty more punches where the first ones came from—which is to say, it will stick around in your mouth.

The verdict? Let Scary eat cake, and let Fluffy duel Sylvia Browne on PPV. Let me have LITTLE SUMPIN’ WILD—preferably for breakfast.