ASTROLIQUOR for March 29 to April 4—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

Aries, watch out Monday—your relationship status may change. Maybe your significant other will chuck all your stuff out the window. Maybe you’ll just remember to check “It’s Complicated” on Facebook or whatever. The stars don’t have a clue; their whole business is to make baseless, inflammatory predictions. And to suggest inflammatory drinks—try two shots of Bacardi 151 with some sort of godforsaken energy drink and you’re on your way. Who knows? This drink may be the catalyst for your relationship change.

Taurus, long-term and/or romantic relationships come under the microscope this week. Issues of loyalty, trust, and respect rear their terribly serious heads, and you may just need to escape into the bottle. Expect some embarrassing outbursts (probably from you); these could take the form of verbal outrages, or even physical diarrhea in a public place. Whoa! A delicate week, Taurus…treat yourself to some cognac and an enema kit.

Charisma is your middle name this week, Gemini, so put yourself out there. Expect lewd invitations on Monday (if you have a partner, try to make sure he/she is included). Unless you avoid human contact, you’ll find yourself in a romantic triangle—maybe even a quadrangle or other troublesome polygon jumpstarted by the combination of Ketel One Vodka and Jagermeister. Later in the week, you might find yourself left out of a will. (OMG! Who died? The stars don’t know that bit.)

Cancer, your home life looks stable and comfortable this week. You’re well rested, with energy on the rise, and no confrontations in sight. Okay, well…on Tuesday you’ll notice a minor f#ck-up you made at work and hasten to cover it up—successfully. All good, but you’ll feel some residual paranoia. Start collecting Brownie points. You got it—you’re the designated driver.

Leo, work-related emails or financial paperwork will seem extra-complicated this week, a logical consequence of a flask kept perpetually full of Cachaca. Try to add up receipts twice rather than once—let’s face it, you are one messed-up kid with some very blotto brain cells, and you shouldn’t really be at work. But new projects keep coming! OMG, Leo, this is not the time to be drunk. But of course you are.

This week you feel oppressed, Virgo. Not normally one to bitch about “The Man,” this week you let loose with some paranoid shit about business managers, bankers, and authority figures. You’ll impute a politics to your workplace that doesn’t even exist. Everybody else is trying to get their crap done, and you’re staring at the wall, muttering. You’re gonna get fired anyway, so pour yourself a Coke & Bitters. Drink it openly.

Libra, a close relationship will demand some TLC on Monday. Emotions run high until Thursday, when you’ll collapse from the strain of hand-holding and pour yourself a tumbler of Jim Beam. You’ll get a brief impulse to light it on fire first, but this is madness. You need every molecule of that alcohol. Needy friends may be a pain in the ass, but sometimes they turn around and buy a round later. Hang in there.

You’ll give up on waiting for an answer from a romantic interest, Scorpio, issuing in five weeks of uncomplicated joy completely unsullied by emotional expectations. And that’s not all. Between Tuesday and Thursday a rare business opportunity will present itself; the son of the deposed leader of Nigeria wants your help with a high-level transaction. Make sure you get in on this. If not, why not visit some sports betting sites? You’ve got the mojo this week. Pour some Kahlua and Bailey’s.

Sagittarius, the business emails will hit you so fast this week that your poor brain cells will be crying “uncle.” You’ll be scrambling to keep up with short-term tasks—blind to long-term ones. That’s what comes of including Captain Morgan, Malibu, Bacardi, and dark rum in your breakfast. Especially for Sagittarians born in December, this week will be nuts. Avoid social commitments for at least 14 days (yay! you get to drink alone).

Family and home take center stage this week, Capricorn. Loved ones will make requests for Martha Stewart–inspired home improvements and concoctions. Partners will hit you up for more intimacy. Insecure members will lean on you for emotional support. In short, you are all things to all people. But don’t ignore your own concerns. The stars are worried that if you don’t make a minimum payment on that maxed credit card, you won’t be able to buy triple sec for those Martha-style drinks.

Aquarius, relationships will be confusing early in the week (actually, everything will, because your brain will marinate in Crown Royal over the weekend). In your more lucid moments, though, you’ll realize that friends are more weirdo than usual. They will pick fights with each other. Do not try to intervene! On Wednesday you’ll have an important chance to make a good impression, and you don’t want to show up with a black eye.

Pisces, recent business or financial decisions will come back to haunt you. An ambitious business venture may well have gone to shit, and the principals are becoming confrontational. If this sounds scary, it is, but no more than usual for Pisces. Dampen your fears with some light rum. By Friday you’ll figure out what to do.

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:


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


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


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


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?


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?


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


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


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.


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


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!


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


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).

Why August is the best month to be a “freegan”

No doubt about it, August is the best month to practice freeganism. Sure, any time of year you can help yourself to the odd morsel of unlucky roadside raccoon (extra points if you bag-and-barbecue the one that clawed its way through our neighbor’s swimming pool). But even better than already-dead varmints are yummy blackberries.

Not even hard-drinking bears who eschew solid food can resist blackberries. The way they burst forth every August with their ravishing aroma…free for the taking for anyone willing to piss off a few spiders—ahhhhhh!

My cheap-ass mother swears things taste better when they’re free, and she might be right about blackberries, if not raccoons.

The berries are calling out to be taken. Today the kids put up with a whole 15 minutes of picking before crying boredom, which gave us (as it happened) half a liquor-store shopping bag of the wondrous little fruits. What shall we do with them, my fellow inebriates?

Citrus Blackberry Collins

We need citrus vodka and blackberry liqueur for this concoction. Odds my parents will do it? 4,143:1 against

Blackberry Crush

Once again, this calls for vodka. Odds? 853:1 against

Blackberry Cocktail

Photo: Jim Franco
Styling: Scott Martin

This calls for gin, which we have, although my mum is causing it to disappear. Even if there is any left by the time we get mixing, the recipe’s weirder ingredients (cucumber with mint) may freak my unadventurous parents out. Odds? 548:1 against

Blackberry Caipirinha

A long time ago a liquor representative emailed a tantalizing invitation to taste Cachaca, one of this recipe’s main ingredients. By all means, send it, I said, but alas, it’s not simple to send booze to Canada, and the hooch never materialized. Odds? Sigh.

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Screw it. My mum can make muffins or whatever the hell she wants to throw those blackberries into, and I’ll have a gin & tonic (before she takes it all).