ASTROLIQUOR for May 31 to June 6, already in progress!

Once again, MFI, your Booze Horoscope has gone sideways. My typist was apparently out on a nature walk. Nature be damned! I said, my fellow inebriates have no celestial guidance on what to drink. Here it is in short strokes.

Aries:

The stars want you to find something exotic…an Italian herbal liqueur called Strega. Got it? Mix 1 oz with 2 oz each of vodka and orange juice (for the vitamins) plus 1/2 oz banana liqueur. Shake with ice and repeat throughout the day, every day this week.

Taurus:

Typically apple cider is kind of cloying—at least the mainstream brands. Throw in an ounce of DeKuyper Sour Apple Pucker and tart it up.

Gemini:

Two parts Malibu, 1 part Blue Curacao, 6 parts OJ. Let the Curacao sink to the bottom, just like your ambitions for the week.

Cancer:

You need some moonshine—preferably some smuggled home in a suitcase from Ireland. We’re talking Poteen, and it should have a vague petroleum smell. Mix with equal parts Irish whisky and Bailey’s Irish Cream, then chase it with a Guinness. Say hi to the Leprechauns when they show up.

Leo:

It’s time to blow your budget on silly-flavored vodka…how about vanilla? Mix it up with creme de bananes and some random juices (cranberry? orange? who cares?).

Virgo:

We’re talking vodka (3 parts) and black sambuca (1 part). Incorporate this nasty mixture into every hour of your life this week. Pretty soon your poo will be an inky black color (and not solid).

Libra:

It calls itself a martini but it’s more of a fauxtini: Grey Goose plus Chambord, equal parts. Ahhh!

Scorpio:

Your life just isn’t weird enough, so try this out: 6 oz dark rum, 3 oz Kahlua, 3 oz cream, 4 oz milk. Then (get this) add a twist of lemon and one clove. Nuke it, but don’t nuke the shit out of it.

Sagittarius:

This is called a Dead Budgie: a bunch of coconut rum and banana liqueur with juice and grenadine (for the blood? OMG).

Capricorn:

Triple sec and raspberry schnapps are pretty good together, but even better with some sweet-and-sour mix and OJ. Equal parts of everything. Do, say…10 shots.

Aquarius:

The stars have bananas on the brain this week, and your drink like dessert. Blend a banana with 1/2 cup vanilla ice cream, 2 oz Godiva (OMG, yes!) and 1/2 oz dark rum. All day long.

Pisces:

Ice-cold gin in a 2:3 ratio with orange juice…ahhhh!! If the math is too hard, keep adding parts of each until you don’t care.

ASTROLIQUOR for May 24–30—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope.

Aries, your house is looking blah. You have a lot of boring colors on the walls—it’s time to go wild with paint. But how will you choose which colors? For starters, you’ll need some gin. Slosh it into a glass with an equal quantity of cheap white wine, then about half that much triple sec. Do not add club soda! You need to get away from your pastel sensibilities and into some harsh, jarring flavors. That will inspire you. Now…get a sober friend to drive you to Home Depot. Choose your paint. Shoo the sober friend away once you’re back at home and start painting. Yay! You will totally love waking up and discovering your new decor. Trust me.

Taurus, it’s time to switch gears and do something exciting. Make sure to visit bars every day after work (during, if you can get away with it). Then reel over to the all-night gym and don your spandex. Even though you’d be amazed how common acid reflux is when you’re attempting a heavy bent-over row after pounding a jug of Tequila, OJ, and Blue Curacao, it really is a good idea to get some exercise. Trust me. Any friends you lose this week due to (your) erratic behavior weren’t very good friends to start with.

Gemini, this week is all about meeting new people and widening your circles. But you’re not feeling open minded, so perhaps you’ll need to soften yourself up with some kind of gin-and-rum concoction. Once you do, you’ll have all kinds of adventures, especially on Friday/Saturday. Trust me. And take your toothbrush with you just in case you get arrested.

Cancer, this week you’ll meet someone from another planet, or at least someone claiming extraterrestrial origins. How cool is that? Try to get hold of whatever chemicals this person is enjoying. Failing that, be sure to up-end a big bottle of cheap sherry—close enough, right? A very sordid (and obviously not reality-based) relationship will ensue, with a dramatic break-up in August. And then, you’ll get a random phone call from a friend who was dying and isn’t now. How cool is that????

Leo, an old disagreement with a good friend is festering—why not fix it up this week? Once you realize how silly the whole thing was, you can go back to business as usual: i.e., drinking vats of brandy, blue curacao, and white creme de cacao (equal parts) with cream and lemon juice (trust me—also equal parts) over ice. But the two of you will have to talk first, so try to do that before you get the cocktail shaker out.

Virgo, if you’re in a helping profession, the stars forecast good times ahead. Yes, people will keep bugging you for stuff, and yes, you’ll still be underpaid. But other things—tangential things—will be good. For instance, you’ll gain a secret admirer (okay, this could be a stalker). You’ll also have a nutty yuccaflux party for all your co-workers. So find a bunch of fruit and invite everybody to bring whatever…brandy, rum, whisky, Benedictine…Trust me, yuccaflux is best with no rules.

After some drunken soul-searching you’ll discover you dislike your job, Libra. Like, a lot. In fact, you’re doing a lot of shit you never had any intention of doing. Start putting out feelers before you go apeshit; it’s far easier to get a job when you have a job. If you have a LinkedIn profile, perhaps you should tidy it up and make it more professional. If, for instance, you type a blog for a drunken bear but also want to be hired for serious freelance jobs, perhaps you shouldn’t mention that blog. Trust me. As for booze? The stars have you mixing equal parts Bushmill’s Irish Whisky and Bailey’s Irish Cream. What could go wrong?

No more relaxing, Scorpio. Key words are consolidation, responsibility, and accountability. Clear up old projects and hide any past f#ck-ups. Strive single-mindedly at least until August. Keep your buzz minimal and tone down that boozy aura by adding filling mixers like cream to your rum. Remember: If you put it in a coffee, you’re still ready for work. Trust me.

The next few months mark an exploration of your spiritual side, Sagittarius, unless of course you are an atheist, in which case you will have to stick with the (ha!) merely numinous or wig out watching reruns of Cosmos. Try not to get into any interviews with Wolf Blitzer; he will ask you why you’re not engaged in God-bothering when you’re busy trying to get the vodka/vermouth balance exactly right and debating olive vs twist.

It’s time to make a change, Capricorn, but it has to be a quick change. No thinking is called for. This is an excellent time to take over unceremoniously, insisting your instincts are bang-on and that qualifications are for pussies. You’ll exude so much energy and confidence that your whole team will applaud your coup d’etat and commence serving you elaborate drinks such as this one:

  • 4 oz Bacardi 151
  • 3 oz creme de coconut (the very stuff of a good dictatorship)
  • 3 oz Kahlua
  • 3 oz white creme de cacao
  • 3 oz cream

Yeah, they want you to pass out so things can go back to normal.

Aquarius, you’re in for a remarkable week. Constellations are swirling into place and granting you extra powers. You’ll have radar for scammers and stamina when the shit starts hitting the fan (Tuesday). Do your best to keep self-doubt at bay, Aquarius; in August you’ll realize you were right about everything. You’ll also get lucky this week. So start pouring Benedictine and brandy, because that’s what the stars say to do. And how could insensate balls of fiery gas know that? Trust me, they know somehow.

Pisces, you’re starting to feel as though you share a brain with your co-workers; that’s how tickety-boo everything is going. This isn’t like you, Pisces; of all the signs you are the Master of the Cardboard Box, but hang with it because it seems to be working. You might even persuade deadbeats who owe you money to send a cheque. That would be awesome because then you could buy two different varieties of brandy plus some Bitters. Yeah! A proper bar at last. You deserve it, Pisces.

8 ways to have an authentic St. Patrick’s Day

Have some Bushmills Irish Whisky. Bushmills is the oldest licensed distillery in the world. Made from malted barley, Bushmills has a lighter character than Scotch whisky and is delicious straight-up.

Source: Phyzome

Don’t knock yourself out looking for a four-leaf clover. Sure, it would be nice, but you’ll have to sift through 10,000 clovers to find your special mutant. And they’re only lucky if you find them by accident. Sounds like time best spent at the pub.

Guinness is good for you. Even if its “Irishness” is a relic of a less cosmopolitan past when all Guinness was brewed in Dublin, Guinness contains antioxidants, plus it’s heart-healthy. New research shows a pint of Guinness a day may be as beneficial as low-dose aspirin for those concerned about arterial plaques. It’s surprisingly low-cal too.

Give the green dye a miss. It already enters our diet in a multitude of insidious ways. You can’t even consume a tin of peas without ingesting green dye. Rest assured, very few people are tinting their beer green in Ireland today.

Do not order an Irish Car Bomb. At least not at a bar in Ireland. The drink is virtually unheard-of there, and those who do know of it find the reference to Ireland’s Troubles shocking and callous. Even worse, the Irish Car Bomb turns three delectable ingredients—Guinness, Irish whisky, and Irish cream—into a fizzing, curdled mess you have to chug quickly before the clots make you throw up. It’s a disgusting stunt drink and it won’t win you any friends at a true Irish bar.

Water your plants. What a nice gift to them for St. Paddy’s Day—at least that’s what I told my mum, who has been abusing the same oxalis plant for 15 years. This poor false shamrock, which probably has Stockholm Syndrome, flourishes despite lack of water and a cramped pot.

Chase some snakes. Round up a bunch of snakes in an enclosure and chase them out. Not that St. Patrick actually did this; in all likelihood snakes have never lived in Ireland—cold, and bounded by water, it doesn’t appeal to heat-seeking reptiles. The snake-chasing myth probably uses snakes as an analogy for pagans, whose way of life he “chased out” with Christianity. And given his family’s slave-trading background, he probably chased more slaves than snakes. Uh, why do we celebrate St. Patrick’s Day again?

Give your animals alcohol. You may have a bear of your own who needs a drink. Be kind.