My Fellow Inebriates,
I became very stressed out when I realized the booze horoscope is late. But then somebody told me that all the astrological signs are off by a month because they were calculated over 2,000 years ago and the earth has an axial wobble, and on and on and on, MFI, it was all very technical. Anyway, if you think you’re a Leo, you’re probably a Cancer, and so on through the zodiac. So feel free to drink whatever the stars recommend for your sign AND the one before it. You’re welcome.
You need extra vacation time, Aries. At least that’s what your psychiatrist thinks. As for your colleagues and relatives, they think you take mental holidays all the time. And the stars? They recommend downtime as long as it’s cheap. That means no Champagne—find some budget bubbly and mix it up with leftover peach schnapps (doesn’t everybody have peach schnapps left over?). What the stars don’t recommend is getting canned from your job. Ahhh, it’s so tempting this time of year, but the stars won’t hear of it. They say you’re unhireable and that you should stick with a good thing.
Taurus, it’s time to figure out your finances. Where the hell is all that money going? For the next two weeks you’ll dutifully spreadsheet every expenditure—and the news will be good. If you can just cut out a few little extras, you’ll be totally solvent. But what are those “little extras”? Well, the stars say to start with Champagne. Nobody needs Champagne when they can buy $11 sparkling wine. You do need Malibu, though.
Gemini, your playtime will change significantly this week thanks to some new people who find their way into your life. You’ll find you need quite a bit of cash to keep up with them, and might even end up seeking a loan. Geminis are pretty good at handling stuff like this, but then again, you’re not really a Gemini, are you? The stars say lay off the crack and buy a nice chocolate mint liqueur that you can savor.
Cancer, your physical fitness gets a boost this week when you declare you’ll no longer take the elevator. You got it, you’re taking the stairs, all eight of them, and before long that ass will be toned and tight. With the accompanying confidence boost you’ll attract new people, one of whom will hit you up for a loan. Don’t do it, Cancer! You need that cash for vodka and Jack Daniel’s.
If you’re feeling out of shape, Leo, perhaps you should eliminate solid food in favor of vodka. Toss some fruit into it for vitamins, shake it all up, and call the neighbors over. Voila! You have a yukkaflux party, and that’s what summer’s all about. Like Cancer, though, you’ll become a magnet for new people, and the one who asked Cancer for a loan will hit you up next. Say no! This person is a total dildo and won’t give you your money back.
You’ll spend much of the week bumping into things, Virgo, which is the usual consequence of drinking vodka, peach schnapps, and Blue Curaco without let-up. Not only will you bang up your elbows and knees; you’ll keel over on top of a delicate appliance, which will work only intermittently thereafter. Give it a good kick, Virgo, but mind your toes. You’re already a mess. You should be wearing shoes in the house anyway, because around about the time you break the appliance, you also smash a six-pack on the floor. Mellow out, friend.
Libra, that missing object you’ve been seeking continues to elude you. Where the hell did you put that thing anyway? It has no sentimental value, but it’s something useful—your toothbrush, perhaps, or some Ben Wa balls. (Don’t mix those up.) Even though tequila won’t help you find your lost item, it will make you feel less frustrated, especially if you mix 6 oz of it with 3 oz each of Blue Curacao and lime juice. Pretty soon you’ll be saying, “What thing?” or, more likely, “Waaasssing?”
If you had your druthers you’d have a stable, normal relationship, Scorpio. Cozy nights and quiet luxuries, good food and drink. But you’re Scorpio, and let’s face it, you don’t do “normal.” You thrive on unpredictability and chaos, which is why you’ll say yes to that peach vodka with 7Up. It won’t taste very good, and you know that, but it signifies a gratifying behavioral spiral that resonates with the Scorpio. Oh, wait a sec, you’re really a Libra. Maybe you can find that missing thing Libra’s looking for.
Sagittarius, communication is tickety-boo this week, and your thoughts are both coherent and compelling. For some reason you’re not getting any work done, though. Are you wanking off to the sound of your own voice? Take a holiday, Sagittarius, and spare your co-workers any more of this. If HR won’t let you book off for a week, take a mental holiday. Stock your desk drawer with bourbon whiskey, Southern Comfort, triple sec, and Blue Curacao. Ahhhh!
A Sagittarius will pester you this week, Capricorn. Just because you smiled once or twice, this person thinks you’re interested romantically. This person also probably has a headful of bourbon and other mixers (see Sagittarius, above) and won’t even remember if you tell him/her to bugger off. Just ignore, ignore, ignore. Save your own lovely drink for after work when you get home: Bailey’s and hot chocolate, because you are so much more refined than a Sagittarius. Oh wait. You kind of are a Sagittarius.
Aquarius, you’ll be the epitome of charm this week. People are drawn to you magnetically because of your nonjudgmental aura. You can even manipulate them with your charisma if you feel like it, but the stars wish you wouldn’t. These things can escalate badly, and next thing you know, you have a drunken Sagittarius hurling chunks of cafeteria lunch and triple sec all over your cubicle. Being nonjudgmental, you won’t mind, but the stars think you can do better, so stick to gin.
You’ll blossom this week, Pisces, becoming a magnet for people whose lives aren’t going so swimmingly. So willing to oblige are you that you’ll drop everything to help, to lend, and to provide emotional support. You’ll start neglecting your own needs and even your own health. Taking on the weight of the world isn’t something any Pisces should ever do. For one thing, Pisces people are never more than a few weeks away from a nervous breakdown. If you don’t look after number one, you’ll find yourself drained by the douchebags of the world, who won’t even lend you a cup of Bacardi later. (Wow! the stars are harsh this week.)
My Fellow Inebriates,
Your booze horoscope is still a mess. I have to admit, dry weekdays are totally getting me down. I can’t even get up in the mornings, never mind figure out what the stars have to say. But finally—the weekend having officially been kicked off—I have a glass of wine in my paw, and the stars are forecasting. (But they are still full of shit.)
Aries, be careful with first impressions this week. It’s fine to be nude at home, but it’s no way to greet new acquaintances. You can stay in touch with your spiritual side without swinging your thing(s) around in public. In fact, you can change mentally. People are starting to recognize depth in you that wasn’t visible before. Could it be that you’re lucid this week? You got it, Aries, you’re this week’s Designated Driver.
Taurus, we all have responsibilities, and lately you’ve been keeping tabs on everybody else’s. Let go of the urge to compare, Taurus—you know other people are often douchebags and they will get away with whatever they can. It doesn’t have anything to do with you and your own objectives. Once you stop monitoring other people, you’ll feel free to go after what you want in life—i.e., Smirnoff with triple sec and Mountain Dew.
Gemini, your week promises to be free of f#ck-ups. If you play a sport, you’ll excel in it. If you go trawling the bars for a hook-up, you’ll find it. You might even get a job this week—but only if you book your interviews for the morning (assuming you can hold off till afternoon to pound that vodka-tequila shot). Life is good.
Cancer, crappy times are finally ending and you can see the light at the end of the tunnel. As you transition to a happier, saner life phase, people will seem more warm and colorful, and sleep will come more easily than it has in months. But life won’t be perfect! Something in your house will break (the stars don’t know what; they are just stupid balls of gas so they can’t be specific). And an Aquarius will be skulking around—maybe even stalking you. Do NOT share your Captain Morgan Tattoo with this person. Pour some Dr. Pepper into it and slam it back alone.
Leo, you’ll espy something beautiful and be overcome with desire. Whether an objet d’art or a pricey Champagne, you’ll insist on having it immediately, with no regard for financial consequences. But you should save some money this week, Leo, because something in your house will go on the fritz. Maybe an appliance, maybe your computer. That’s the thing about the stars; they like to be unspecific so they can say they were right—especially if you take their prediction as license to go apeshit-drunk in your house and wreck something.
You’ll encounter a stranger this week, Virgo, but a combination of peach schnapps, amaretto, Southern Comfort, and apple schnapps will ensure the two of you do not remain strangers. And the plot will thicken as you discover mutual acquaintances, enmeshing you in a prematurely complicated relationship. Who knows—maybe the two of you are even long-lost siblings? (Ew.) Your new involvement will keep your thoughts occupied all week, and maybe that’s a good thing.
Libra, you’ve got nuthin’ going on this week. The stars have literally nothing to say about your chart—nothing out of whack, no nutjob stalkers, no strangers stepping into your steamy shower. For some people a
boring calm week is a comfort. For you…? Oh, for crying out loud, at least mix yourself a bizarre cocktail. Blend this up with two cups of ice:
- 3 oz creme de menthe
- 3 oz cinnamon schnapps
- 2 oz cream
- 20 of those little cinnamon hearts that hurt your tongue
Memory lane reaches out this week, Scorpio, especially if you are over 40 years old. Whatever age you felt best at, you’ll behave accordingly. And if you’re a young Scorpio with no drunken good times yet racked up, why not bust out this week? Either way, a lot of Scorpios will get involved in feats of immaturity this week. Mellow out afterwards with equal parts Kahlua, Bailey’s, and Frangelico (unless your drunken activities land you in jail, in which case…I once saw this movie in which a character made Merlot in the toilet, so you probably can too).
Sagittarius, negotiations look excellent this week, especially for big-ticket loans like mortgages. Don’t be afraid! You can make the payments, although you may have to settle for cheaper gin and whiskey. The stars see you sitting on your new porch drinking a Bud and telling yourself you like it. That’s awesome! It’s the North American dream. And you’ll have lots of friends too, but you must remember to phone them.
If you’re having a tough week, Capricorn, you should consider telling a stranger about it. There’s no sense laying all your shit on a friend or relative; find somebody on the subway and tell them all about your hemorrhoids. Then again, you could see a doctor, but a medical professional might tell you to lay off the Scotch. And for a final piece of astrological randomness…buy someone some flowers.
Aquarius, a nagging problem has started to seem insurmountable. Even when you read about global misfortunes in the newspaper, you still feel whiny and sorry for yourself. Perhaps you need a bizarre sexual adventure; these can be great distractions, and they tend to dovetail nicely with Cointreau and triple sec. Post the pics on FB.
Pisces, you’ll realize suddenly that you have been pretending—who knows for how long? Check yourself out in the mirror and look at all the things that have happened to you. OMG, was that bit there before? What about that pendulous thing? What is it exactly? Realizations such as these are the bane of the sober mind. The antidote is a tub of Sangria, so find some crappy Cab and throw a bunch of brandy and fruit into it. Or hell, just drink the wine.
My Fellow Inebriates,
The stars are still being dickheaded, which means you all get an abbreviated reading again, just like last week, only this week we don’t even have a proper theme, people. Yes, the stars are sucking royal ass and being totally lazy in their stupid galactic orbits, burning all that hydrogen and producing f*ck-all in the way of useful readings about OUR LIVES. We should all be livid at the stupid stars and their questionable influence. That having being said, here’s what they say you should drink.
You get apple juice and Smirnoff this week. What a perfect Sunday-morning treat while hanging out with a toddler.
Godiva, Kahlua, and small ice cubes that you can crunch while you drink. This is so you can be annoying, just in case you don’t already know how.
Do they still make Jolt cola? I think not, but if you know someone who had a bomb shelter/panic room and died, then they might have left some in there, and you could go in and get it. But do they (did they?) have raspberry syrup and vodka?
Cognac, strawberry schnapps, triple sec, and club soda. Blend it up with a couple of strawberries, weirdo.
Got a big (I mean big) container? Put vodka, gin, sweet-and-sour mix, grenadine, and—what else?—beer. Proportions you can figure out.
Dark rum, Malibu, peach schnapps, blackberry schnapps, and as many kinds of juices as you have in the fridge. Like Aries, you’ve got yourself a libation you can enjoy while hanging with a five-year-old.
Okay, this is kind of elaborate. Vanilla liqueur, some kind of blue liqueur, mint liqueur, and vanilla ice cream. Not in the blender!! Cocktail shaker, ice, shave the ice cream into it. YEAH! Shake it up. Also a good one to enjoy while regaling the kiddies about the importance of a well-stocked bar.
Got a harsh Canadian whisky? Bet you’ve never put it in a cocktail shaker with rosso vermouth, crappy sparkling wine, a splash of triple sec, and some bitters. Why would anyone do that?? But the stars are calling for it, so there you go.
Jagermeister in a coffee. It’s gonna be a bad week.
You luck out again with some hedonistic luxury: amarula, cream liqueur, peach schnapps, vodka, half-and-half, and don’t forget vodka. Mmmmmm (I think? Who knows, it might be totally gross).
Vodka and Hawaiian Snapple. You’re welcome.
You deserve a fantasy drink: Midori melon, Malibu, and pineapple juice. Ahhhh!