champagne

MARQUIS DE LA TOUR—Sacrificed to a turkey

My Fellow Inebriates,

When we changed headquarters this summer, we lost the camera charger.

Dozens upon dozens of boxes have been searched, and it has not turned up.

But if we buy another one, it will turn up immediately. So we haven’t. And therefore it hasn’t turned up.

Where the hell are you?? Where did you go? Did my dad put you in his jacket pocket and then throw away the jacket? Did he insert you somewhere and forget about you? Arrrrghhhhhh!

Meanwhile the camera has lost its charge. This means no more drunken pictures or bear porn for the time being. And while it’s not such a loss in terms of yours truly, whose appearance follows an imperceptible but predictable trajectory from mangy to filthy, the kids in the house are aging, getting taller, growing their hair, losing their teeth. Undocumented.

They may well be teenagers by the time my dad breaks down and buys a new charger. He’ll arrive home with it, having surrendered the battle against Murphy’s Law and finally ponied up at the NCIX counter, only to interrupt Miss P necking on the couch with some scurrilous unworthy kid—because she will be 15 by the time he finally caves in. OMG!! We are dying without that little connector. The children are losing their recorded childhood, not to mention any documentary evidence they might one day proffer to Child Services. This is serious shit.

Surely not? Not in…in there?

It’s almost as awful as when my mum poured an entire bottle of MARQUIS DE LA TOUR over the Thanksgiving turkey. She does this every year, and I always cry when she does it. She says it “makes the gravy,” which seems to neglect the contribution of the gigantic dead bird being baptized by $12 sparkling vino.

Admittedly she did give me an infinitesimal sample before wasting the bottle. My thimbleful (NO PICTURES AVAILABLE) was pale gold with teeny moustache-tickling bubbles. The scent was delicate and pleasing if somewhat simple. On the tongue the bubbles danced with more sweetness than expected. While the flavor was crisp and clean, it nevertheless suggested melons and other fruits that appeal especially to the rapidly maturing kids (NO PICTURES AVAILABLE) who reside at LBHQ. Were one allowed to have a full glass of MARQUIS DE LA TOUR, the sipping would be easy and refreshing.

I don’t honestly think a small swallow of sparkling wine is adequate for a fair tasting, but my parents countered this argument by saying that Robert Parker regularly swishes as many as 50 wines around his gob in quick succession, rendering judgments within 30 seconds. Essentially they called me on my bitching and donated a bottle of perfectly good booze to a dead turkey. And then they said: “You’re lucky we’re not cooking a bear with an apple in its mouth.”

Hello, Child Services?

ASTROLIQUOR for August 17-23—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

As an Aries you sometimes have difficulty maintaining civilized relationships, and this week it gets worse. Your psyche splits in half, freaking out friends and family. One minute you’re barring the door and ignoring your phone. Next minute you’re streaking around the block in a thong. This latter behavior is just a cover-up for the tender, squishy interior you’ve been hiding. Loosen it up with some vodka.

Taurus, one of your friends is into you—and very suddenly. You, however, have your eye on someone else. You could keep your options open just in case the latter fails to notice you. Then again, your admirer could well be a stalker who drinks all your Hennessy while you’re in the shower. It’s potentially a shit scenario, but you can’t very well hide from the world. The stars say go with your gut.

You’ll meet a flirt this week, Gemini, which could make for rocky times if you already have a steady squeeze. But you’re generally lucky, so you can get away with a fair bit. Whether you take the plunge has a lot to do with how much Captain Morgan’s in your bloodstream. Your best risk-taking days are Monday through Wednesday, but don’t look at me for answers on Thursday. 😦

An old photograph or video reminds you of an old friend, Cancer. Being naturally sentimental, you sail down memory lane, lamenting your lost relationship and wishing you’d had as much sense as you do now. Don’t start freaking out about your age, though. If you get even the slightest urge to go for Botox, break out the vodka and Southern Comfort. Even if booze doesn’t shake the impulse, no doctor will inject you when you’re hammered, although you might find a tattoo artist who’s willing.

Leo, your general health is improving. You feel stronger and more competitive. You’re sleeping better and managing stress in healthy ways. You’re waking up early and going for nature walks. OMG, how did this happen? Has your bartender started watering down your Jagermeister? Better find out—it’s not normal to feel this good.

Whatever people advise, you tend to do the opposite, Virgo. You lose patience for rules and order as the stars urge you toward peach schnapps, vodka, and Hypnotiq. Depending on your baseline level of introversion, this is either good or bad. (Ain’t it great how horoscopes are correct no matter what?)

Libra, you frequently feel insecure or even embarrassed about your physique. Pasty and sallow, you get your carbohydrates from Sprite and your other macronutrients from gin, hoping like hell juniper contains some vitamins. Wallowing in shame won’t help you, Libra. Not as much as much as wallowing in a nice bath with candles and more gin.

Your third eye is very acute this week, Scorpio. You’re seeing and hearing things that aren’t actually there. Lots of people—astrologers, for example—would consider this a gift, but you are a little weirded out. So intuitive are you that you make a sordid discovery about your own private life. Any Scorpio worth his/her salt loves going down this type of bizarre rabbit hole, so pop the champagne cork and celebrate! But do it after Sunday, because the stars say you’ll end up being designated driver all weekend.

Sagittarius, you’re mowing through your finances again, with no thought for the morrow. Your bar friends love you for this, but look out—everything comes to a screeching halt in October, and the money situation won’t look up until at least December. Not only that—you’re juggling multiple projects and not finishing anything. Try ratcheting back the Kahlua in your breakfast flask.

Relationships test your mettle this week, Capricorn. You may even be forced to choose between two people—a painful decision that calls for a rational mind. This you don’t have—not with your neurons swimming in rum and triple sec—and you could end up regretting your choice in December. Try not to jettison friendships, even if you have to tell some lies. This might mean capping that rum consumption so you can keep track of what you’ve said…can you do it?

Aquarius, cool your jets, there’s nothing that can’t wait a while. Where did this crazy sense of urgency come from? The world won’t stop if you slow down. Relax; try being late occasionally; ditch an AA meeting. Bet your workplace has enough type-A personalities, at least for this week. The recipe? Two ounces amaretto, two ounces coffee liqueur, in your morning Starbucks.

Pisces, lose the keyboard and go outside. Real people are more interesting in real life, and some of them have been trying to catch your eye for a while. Even if you think nature walks are for douchebags, you can make them work for you. What about a lovely picnic in a pastoral setting with a two-liter Fresca bottle and some Crown Royal?

ASTROLIQUOR for July 12-18—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

Expect bad news concerning a friend’s health, Aries. This person used to be active but is flat on his/her ass right now. It’s serious, so you should visit soon. You never know how fast these Kubler-Ross stages can go, but try to arrive during “denial” and before “anger.” Hollow out a pineapple and sneak it into your friend’s hospital room along with white rum, spiced rum, amaretto, and pineapple juice. Be a good friend and speak frankly, and if you feel too sad, go ahead and get drunk.

Taurus, do you have a good friend you’ve been ignoring? Don’t get written off as a douchebag—at least write an email explaining how your brain’s been too saturated with Everclear and Bacardi 151 for you to leave the house. But don’t divulge too much—your friend doesn’t need to know about the three-week old vomit patch in the hallway or the reason your cat runs away from you. Just be friendly and vague.

You’re running on empty, Gemini, so kick back with some white rum and lime. Ignore requests to start new projects, update files, or come into work. Filling your head with rum will give you newfound clarity and leave you open to new experiences. Even reeling around the produce aisle could lead you to a new friend or two. It all starts with the rum.

Mind your spending habits, Cancer, or your finances will be good and f#cked. Write down your expenses to gain some insight into your patterns. This will actually blow your mind, as most of the time you have no idea where the money goes. Just think: with a little financial constraint you’ll be able to afford better tequila, and boy will your tummy ever thank you. Not only that—you’ll attract flirtatious interest from some tire-biting neighbor who thinks you must be rich because you have a nice car. Ha!

Leo, this week features strong, troubling feelings that threaten to get the better of you. But you don’t want to bother friends with these feelings. Suppress them with an awesome Molson/Malibu combo. Not only will you triumph over your emotions; you’ll remember nothing, and if you consume enough, your babbling will be too incoherent to reveal any facts. What do you mean you’ve never combined beer and Malibu? Why wouldn’t you? Two parts to one and you’re gold.

Virgos tend to write a lot of complaint letters without expecting a response. This week someone will write back to you—oh joy! But the more carefully you read the response, the more you realize you’ve been given the bum’s rush. Just be glad you got a reply, Virgo. Your original letter was almost unreadable and soaked in spilt tequila. What were you asking for anyway? Oh yeah, more tequila. And triple sec. But why were you asking your pastor?

Libra, you realize this week that it’s time to get a job. Most of your friends have them, so why not? But you don’t feel ready to actually apply for anything. Quite right. You may wish to stop drinking Zombies for a few days so the words on the wanted ads will stop moving and let you read them. But really, who applies for a job in summer?

This is a happy week for you, Scorpio. The last few weeks you’ve spent event-planning have led to satisfaction and serenity—and this calls for a drink:

  • 3 oz Bacardi 151
  • 1 oz creme de cacao
  • 1 oz cream

Shake everything and pour over ice. Ahhhhh! A structured life can be rewarding.

Sagittarius, you’re getting the urge to break the rules. You find any sort of constraint intolerable this week—even traffic rules. Solution? Park your car and ditch work. Make yourself a weird concoction for breakfast. How about blackberry liqueur with amaretto? Alternatively you could stay sober and have an energetic bike ride or an early-morning yoga class. LOL.

Harmony surrounds you this week, Capricorn. Sure, there are workaday stresses and demands, but these make you feel effective and productive. Meanwhile, friendships are ticking along nicely. Basically everything’s great, but you know how Capricorns are. Things can’t be this good, can they?! Better start examining, overanalyzing, sabotaging. Naturally, alcohol can help. I see you starting in a celebratory mode with champagne and taking it downward from there.

Aquarius, start passing out your business cards; this is a great week to meet new people—especially a Leo. Most of the people you already know are afraid of you because of that apple vodka tantrum from a while back. Only new people from outside your usual circles will be unaware of these types of behaviors. How long can you hang onto your new Leo friend without painting him/her with schnapps-scented barf?

Pisces, take the time to make someone happy this week. Don’t worry; you don’t need to spend money—just post some cat pictures on his/her Facebook page or send a friendly text. Don’t telephone, though! It’s pretty hard to talk coherently with a full bottle of bourbon down the hatch. Either that, or make the call before you crack the bourbon. But 6:00am is pretty early.